Just Beyond Tomorrow. Bertrice SmallЧитать онлайн книгу.
was an audible hiss of breath in the hall at the very substantial offer.
“ ’Tis nae gold I’m wanting for Brae, my lord,” Lachlann Brodie finally said. “There isna enough gold in the world for ye to buy Brae.”
“Then, what do ye want, sir?” the duke inquired. “If it is in my power to gie it to ye, I will, for I mean to hae Brae.”
“If ye want Brae, my lord, then ye must take its heiress as well,” Lachlann Brodie said. “Marry Flanna, and Brae is yers.”
“Damn me!” Aulay Brodie said aloud, as surprised as the rest of the audience in the hall. Gold was his father’s God, yet here was the old man actually attempting to do well by his youngest child.
“I dinna want to marry anyone, least of all him!” Flanna exploded.
“Shut yer mouth, lass,” her father said calmly. “I’m a hard man, and ’tis true I’m tight wi’ a merk, but I loved yer mam. She was the joy of my old age. I promised her I’d see ye wed well, and the truth is, lass, ye’re nae likely to hae a better chance ever again.” He turned back to the duke. “Well, my lord, how badly do ye want Brae? She’s nae a bad-looking wench, although a trifle big boned. She gets that, I fear, from me and nae her mother. She’s young enough to be a good breeder, although at twenty-two she’s almost past her prime. She’s got a fierce temper, I’ll nae lie to ye, but ye could nae hae a better wench at yer side in a fight. She’s a virgin, I’ll guarantee ye, for none can get near her, so ye may be certain yer heir is yer own blood. If ye want Brae, ye must take my daughter to be yer wife. Ye dinna hae a wife, do ye?”
He thought about lying to the old man, but it would be a lie easily discovered. “Nay, I hae nae wife,” he answered.
“I will nae marry him!” Flanna shouted, but she was ignored. This business was between her father and the duke, it would seem.
“Hush, ye stupid little ninny,” Una Brodie hissed at her. “Yer da is going to make ye a duchess if ye’ll keep quiet.”
“I’ll nae have him!” Flanna attempted to make her wishes known once again.
Patrick Leslie looked at the girl. He needed a wife. The truth was he didn’t care if he loved her or not. He needed a wife who could give him heirs, and Flanna looked strong enough. Love was an unpleasant complication, he had already decided. The girl was pretty enough. The dowry was something he badly wanted. He didn’t need gold, for he was a wealthy man. His family wanted him wed. Who else was there? True, the Brodies were hardly equal to the Leslies of Glenkirk. They were rough and rude Highlanders, but it didn’t matter. It was unlikely he would see them often once Flanna was at Glenkirk. Unless, of course, he needed their aid in a fight. Looking about at the hard-eyed Brodie men, he decided they would be an asset in a battle. In that moment he realized he had made his decision. “I’ll take her,” he said.
“Nay!” Flanna stamped her foot and looked about the hall for some small support. There was none.
“My lord, this decision is ill-advised,” Colin More-Leslie murmured to his master. “Surely there is another way. Would yer father, may God assoil his good soul, approve? And what of yer princess mother?”
“I need a wife,” the duke said implacably, “and I want Brae. It seems the perfect solution to me, Colly.”
“Go down to the village and fetch the minister from the kirk,” Lachlann Brodie commanded his eldest son.
“Ye want me to wed her here and now?” Patrick Leslie was very much taken aback, but then it didn’t really matter, did it?
“Ye’ll wed her, and ye’ll bed her, my lord, so my sons and I may be certain ye canna repudiate her on the basis of nonconsummation, while keeping Brae for yerself. I dinna trust nae man.”
“He’s a canny old devil,” Colin More-Leslie said softly.
“As ye will, Lachlann Brodie,” the duke said. “Send Aulay for the minister. ’Tis as good a time as any for a wedding.”
“And ye’ll remain the night,” came the veiled order.
“Aye, and breach the lass so all may see her innocence on the sheets come the morrow before I take her back to Glenkirk. The deeds to Brae safely in my possession then, eh?”
Lachlann Brodie nodded. “Agreed,” he said, spitting in his palm and holding it out to the duke.
Patrick Leslie spit in his own palm, and then the two men shook hands. “Agreed,” he responded.
“Nay,” Flanna Brodie said softly, but no one was listening to her. She might as well have protested to the wind.
“Five hundred gold crowns lost, and ye’re to be a duchess,” her sister-in-law Ailis murmured enviously. “What luck!”
“Luck?” Flanna said bitterly. “I see nae luck. At least ye love my brother Simon, and he cares for ye. All this Leslie of Glenkirk wants of me is Brae. Whether he buys it, or weds it, it makes nae difference to him at all. What the hell do I know about being a duchess? I’ll shame myself and my husband wi’ my ignorance. There is nae luck here.”
“Ye can surely learn how to be a duchess,” Ailis said. “Besides, I doubt ye’ll ever go to court. The English, I am told, hae already killed one royal Stuart. Ye know how to manage a household, for we’ve all struggled to teach ye the rudiments of housekeeping. Despite yer stubbornness ye’re quite clever. Whatever else there is, ye’ll learn.”
“Take my daughter to her chamber and see that she’s properly prepared for her wedding,” Lachlann Brodie ordered the women.
Immediately her brothers’ wives and their daughters gathered around Flanna and led her off. Her maidservant, Aggie, pressed near Flanna.
“Ye’ll take me wi’ ye, mistress, won’t ye?” she said nervously.
“Aye, ye and Angus will come to Glenkirk wi’ me,” Flanna replied. She turned suddenly, speaking directly to the duke. “I may have Aggie and Angus, may I nae? I’ll nae go wi’out them.”
“Of course yer servants may come wi’ ye,” he assured her. She had given him a very determined look when she importuned him, although the truth was she had no authority in the matter. Still, it was little enough, and all the brides who came to Glenkirk had come with their own personal servants.
Flanna felt numb. She stood, unprotesting, as her sisters-in-law pulled her clothing off her and hustled her into a hot tub. “We’d best start wi’ my hair,” she said low to Aggie, who nodded in agreement.
“We’ll pack yer things for ye,” Una said, “though I doubt much of it will be good enough for Glenkirk Castle. Still, ye know how to sew. Ye and Aggie can make some pretty new gowns, I’m sure. The duke will nae be tight wi’ a bride. Ask right away before he grows bored wi’ ye, Flanna. I’m certain he’ll gie ye the key to the storerooms where ye’re certain to find silks and other fine stuffs.”
“I want nothing from him,” Flanna said coldly. “He will hae the only thing I ever truly wanted, and that is Brae.”
“Dinna be a fool,” Una said sharply.
“The old man should hae taken the five hundred crowns,” Ailis said. “Imagine Flaming Flanna a duchess,” she tittered.
“Shut yer mouth, ye mean shrew,” Una snapped. “If old Lachlann had taken the gold, do ye think ye or any of us would hae seen any of it, Ailis? I’ll remind ye that my Aulay is the old man’s heir. Yer Simon is but the next to youngest son. The land belonged to Flanna, through her mam. The luck is hers, nae ours, although I’m as surprised as any of ye that Lachlann Brodie passed up five hundred pieces of gold. Still, he loved Meg Gordon dearly, and she loved him despite the disparity in their ages.”
The chamber grew quiet then. Una was the matriarch of the family. Though a hard woman with little patience for fools and a quick temper, she had a good heart. There was