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Highlander’s Lost Pearl: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance Page 9

Hendry needed to act, and he needed to do so fast before there could be any more unpleasantness between the two women.

  “Peigi . . . thank ye, but I think I’ll take Lady Gordon outside for some fresh air,” Hendry said, standing up and hauling Beitris along with him. “Perhaps the wine is a little too strong for her.”

  “Aye, m’lord,” Peigi said. “Ye must wish to be alone with yer future wife.”

  It was the only indication of bitterness and resentment that Peigi had shown all night, and it took Hendry aback. It seemed to take her aback too, her own words surprising her as she blushed furiously and turned around to leave, scurrying away and retreating to the kitchens.

  Hendry’s first instinct was to follow her, to try and make her understand, but there was nothing left for her to understand. He knew that Peigi was well aware of their roles in the castle, and any mean-spirited comments in the next few weeks would be natural.

  He couldn’t even imagine what he would end up saying if Peigi were to marry another man.

  Besides, Hendry had bigger problems on his plate, namely a drunk Beitris leaning against his shoulder. Thankfully, Laird Gordon was still busy talking to the General, so Hendry took Beitris outside to the courtyard for some fresh air.

  “Ye ken that I can drink more than any man in here,” Beitris said, as she clung onto his arm. The courtyard was empty, save for the guards that were keeping watch, and Hendry was grateful for that. Despite what Beitris was saying, the last thing that he wanted was for her father to know that she was not being perfectly ladylike.

  “Aye, I’m sure ye can,” Hendry said. The two of them walked slowly around the courtyard, enjoying the crisp air. It had stopped raining a while ago, but the air still smelled of petrichor, and the dew lingered on the leaves of every plant around them.

  All in all, it was a romantic night, the perfect setting for a first kiss, but Hendry doubted he could kiss Beitris, even if she wasn’t drunk. There was something inside him that stopped him, a constant, nagging thought that he couldn’t shake.

  Beitris herself didn’t seem that interested in any romance either. She was perfectly happy to enjoy the fresh air, breathing in deeply as she perched herself on a bench at the edge of the courtyard. Sitting beside her, Hendry watched her as she gazed at the sky with the millions of stars peeking through the grey clouds.

  “I ken why we are here,” Beitris said suddenly, and she did, indeed, sound soberer than she looked. “I ken why my father brought me along. It wasnae because he wanted me to see the friend I had missed.”

  Hendry stayed silent, not knowing what to say. It seemed to him that she sounded displeased, almost, at the thought of being married to him, something that certainly came from the reveal of his feelings towards Peigi.

  “Beitris, I want ye to ken that once ye’ll be my wife, I willnae do anything to disrespect ye,” Henry said. “Peigi . . . she doesnae mean anything.”

  It was a lie, but it was one that was necessary. Hendry couldn’t bring himself to do anything that would displease his wife, even if he loved another.

  Beitris laughed then, deep and loud, as though Hendry had said something ridiculous. Hendry could only frown at her in confusion, wondering how she could even be in such high spirits after her realization that there was something between him and Peigi.

  “Ach, but she does,” she said. “Ye are my dear friend, Hendry, ye ken that. “And I had always kent that one day, we would be married. I suppose back when I was a wee bairn, it had sounded nice, being married to a good friend and spending every day with him. But I am no wee bairn anymore, and neither are ye. I suppose I have come to realize that there is more to a marriage than a good friendship. Not much more, but something more, at least.”

  Once again, Hendry stayed quiet for a long time, at a loss for words. In the end, he only spoke when Beitris finally turned to look at him instead of the sky.

  “Do ye not wish to be married to me?” he asked her.

  “No.”

  It was a simple, honest word, and Hendry appreciated that. A lesser woman would have gone through with the wedding, allowing the two of them to be miserable for their entire lives and looking for affection in other people, constantly risking the gossip of the clan.

  “Is it my eye?” Hendry joked, and his joke made Beitris snort rather unflatteringly, but also endearingly. There was a little bit of truth in his question though, the constant, unshakeable fear that people would always avoid him because he was different.

  “I had made up my mind long before I set foot in this castle and saw yer eye,” Beitris assured him. “With one eye, ye wouldnae be able to see me well in the morning, when I look my worst. Yer one eye is almost enough reason to marry ye.”

  Hendry joined her then, the two of them laughing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so freely, the last time that he didn’t have a weight on his chest that dragged him and his entire mood down.

  “Besides, I ken that ye have no interest in me,” Beitris said, and her words made Hendry frown. She laughed once more, the same laugh that she had given him in the hall, the one that Hendry could never hope to decipher. “I’ve seen how ye look at the servant lass. I’ve seen many men look at their servant lasses, but none of them look at them how ye look at Peigi.”

  Hendry had hoped that his feelings for Peigi weren’t so obvious. Now he could only hope that it was Beitris who was particularly observant and that no one else had realized that his affections lay with Peigi. If he were to go against his father’s plan and marry a servant girl, he wanted the reveal to happen in his own terms, even though he knew that no one in the clan would protest or judge him for his decision.

  They wouldn’t judge their Laird, but some of them would, perhaps, judge Peigi, and he didn’t want that to happen.

  “There is something about that lass, Beitris,” Hendry said, shaking his head a little. “I dinnae ken what it is, but there is something about her that I cannae—”

  “Hendry,” Beitris interrupted, the corners of her mouth curling upwards in a mischievous smile. “Ye dinnae have to explain anything to me. She’s a beautiful lass, and if I ken anything about ye, then I ken that if ye love her, she is a good person.”

  Hendry couldn’t help but smile at Beitris then, and he reached for her hand. He didn’t know how to express his gratitude to her; he didn’t know what he could say to thank her for her kind words and for giving him a chance to be truly happy.

  Perhaps he didn’t even have to. Perhaps Beitris understood, like she seemed to understand everything else about him.

  “What about ye?” Hendry asked. “Who is the lucky lad for whom ye rejected me?”

  “There is no lucky lad, Hendry,” Beitris said. “I dinnae wish to marry ye, and I dinnae wish to marry anyone else either . . . at least not the noo. I dinnae wish to marry for a political alliance, and I dinnae wish for my father to decide my fate.”

  “How will ye tell him such a thing?” Hendry asked. Laird Gordon wasn’t known for his tenderness, after all, even though he could have his tender moments, which always surprised the people around him. His word was the law, and to go against that would take a lot of courage from Beitris’ side.

  “Precisely as I told ye,” Beitris said. “I am not afraid of my father, and neither should ye. He is a kind man, he truly is . . . I suppose he never lets anyone see it because he considers it a weakness, but I see him for who he is. He willnae go against my wishes, and he willnae do anything to ye either. His offer to help the Dunbar clan will still stand, I guarantee that.”

  If it were anyone else, Hendry would not have believed those words about Laird Gordon, as the man was notorious for being a fair, yet harsh, ruler. He believed Beitris, though, as not only did she have no reason to lie to him, but she also knew her father better than anyone else.

  Perhaps Laird Gordon was only truly gentle with her, after all. Maybe she was his only weakness.

  “Ye seem to be doing quite weel on yer own though,” Beitris added wi
th a small frown. “Last I’d heard, the Dunbar clan didnae have enough food for all its clansmen. What happened?”

  With everything that had been going on with Beitris and Peigi, Hendry had not had the time to think about his mysterious benefactor. Now, though, he couldn’t help but wonder once more who it could have been that had the money and the desire to help him so much.

  “I dinnae ken,” Hendry admitted. “I thought it was ye, at first, yer father. I thought that since we’d be married soon, he wanted to have the Dunbar clan in as good of a shape as possible, but noo I ken that it wasnae him. I canna think of anyone else.”

  Beitris frowned at that but then gave Hendry a small shrug. “Weel . . . whoever it is, it was a good deed. Perhaps it was yer uncle, Eanraig?”

  It was possible, Hendry thought. His mother’s brother was a wealthy man, after all, and he was the most likely to help, after Laird Gordon. Perhaps he had heard about the Dunbar clan’s hardships, and he had decided to help his late sister’s son.

  “I havnae seen him since I was a wee lad,” Hendry said. “But it must be him, no?”

  “Aye,” Beitris said, as she stood up with a sigh, offering her hand to Hendry. He took it and followed her back to the castle, the two of them walking side by side. “It doesnae matter. Ye have a bigger problem to worry about.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as how ye’ll tell Peigi that ye love her,” Beitris said, giving Hendry a teasing nudge on the shoulder. “I’m thinking . . . I’m thinking a grand gesture. Perhaps some roses and a troubadour?”

  Hendry listened to Beitris as she rambled on and on about the perfect declaration of love, and smiled as her plans became grander and grander, including extravagant gifts and things that Hendry could never afford.

  Whoever ended up marrying Beitris had a lot to live up to. Then again, she deserved nothing less.

  Chapter Twelve

  After Peigi had helped clean up the hall once all the clansmen and women had left for the night, she, too, headed to bed, eager for a good night’s sleep. She knew that it was unlikely she would sleep at all though, since she simply could not stop thinking about Hendry and Beitris together.

  She should be happy for him, of course. She knew that. She should be pleased that he was going to be married to a woman as beautiful and as noble as Beitris, a woman who was meant for him and could make him happy.

  Still, Peigi couldn’t simply push the jealousy deep inside her, where it would never see the light of day again. At least for that one night, she would allow herself to mourn for the love that was never meant to be.

  Just as she was about to slip under the covers, the door of her bedroom was flung open, and Hendry jumped inside her room, hastily closing the door behind him and leaning against it to catch his breath. Peigi could do nothing other than clutch the blanket from her bed against her chest, covering what her nightshift couldn’t hide.

  “Hendry!” she hissed, her heart pounding in her chest. “What are ye doing here? Leave! Leave before Glenna comes back!”

  “Glenna isnae coming to this room tonight,” he said, though he kept glancing at the door, as though he feared that someone would burst right through it, just like he had. “Och, I was almost caught by Edan and Grier, but I dinnae think they saw me . . . and if they did, I doubt that they kent who I was.”

  That did not answer Peigi’s question. If anything, it only made her even more confused.

  “What do ye mean? Where is Glenna?” she asked. “And what are ye doing here? Leave!”

  “I saw her with Irving. Trust me, she willnae be coming back tonight,” Hendry assured her, as he walked towards her and clasped her hands in his, even as she was still holding onto the blanket. “Peigi I . . . I love ye. Yer in my dreams when I sleep, and in my heart when I wake. I search for ye in every face, I ache when yer not near. I tried to deny it, not once, but many times. No matter what I say or do, nothing can change how I feel about ye.”

  Peigi sighed at that, her hands holding onto Hendry’s own tightly as she gave him a small, sad smile. She took a step forward until their foreheads were touching and spoke softly as she closed her eyes.

  “Hearing ye say that, Hendry, it’s . . . it’s everything I wanted. I love ye, too,” she said. “I love ye in a way that I thought no human could ever love.”

  Hendry leaned closer to press a kiss on Peigi’s lips, but she pulled back, letting go of his hands. It was simply too much for her. She couldn’t bear hearing those words, not while knowing that they could never be together.

  “But ye’ll be marrying Lady Gordon soon, and . . . and that is good. We canna be together, and ye canna love me. Ye must love her, do ye hear? She’ll be yer wife.”

  “No, she willnae be my wife,” Hendry said. “She doesnae love me either, not like that. We are good friends, Beitris and I, but we could never be husband and wife. We could never be in love with each other. She doesnae wish to marry me, and I dinnae wish to marry her.”

  The news startled Peigi, who froze on the spot, simply staring at Hendry with her mouth wide open. She could hardly believe that Lady Gordon could even make such a decision for herself. Peigi had never had the luxury of deciding for herself, at least not until she had left her father’s keep.

  “What about . . . what about Laird Gordon?” she asked. “Willnae he force ye to marry?”

  “No,” Hendry said. “Beitris assured me that he willnae do such a thing. She says that her father wouldnae force her to do anything that she doesnae want to do.”

  It was good news, of course. And yet, Peigi could not bring herself to be happy. Even if Hendry and Beitris would not marry, after all, that did not change the fact that she was nothing more than a servant girl, and that she carried too much guilt inside her to be able to be with Hendry. The only way that she could be with him would be to tell him the truth, but she knew that once she did, he would never look at her the same way.

  Still, when Hendry tugged the blanket out of her hands and leaned closer to kiss her, she did not resist. Perhaps it was wrong. Perhaps it was immoral, and she should have told him to stop, but when she felt his lips against hers, soft and gentle, as though Hendry was asking for permission to make her his, she could only respond in kind.

  The blanket fell on the floor as her arms came up to wrap around Hendry’s neck, pulling him close to her. Peigi sighed against Hendry’s lips, giving in to him and to her own desire that consumed her like a flame, urging her to take everything that Hendry offered her.

  She didn’t know who pulled the other to the bed. They were moving together like a unit, synchronized, both having the same desire to be lost in each other.

  She ended up under Hendry, whose hands were now sneaking under her nightdress, one gripping her thigh as the other snaked its way up her torso and rested on her breast. Peigi bucked against him, mad with desire, as a breathy moan escaped her lips, one that Hendry hushed with a kiss.

  He was right, she thought; it would do no good to be heard by the other servants. The walls on that side of the castle were thin and brittle, and the last thing that Peigi wanted was for everyone to gossip about that night and wonder who her nightly visitor was.

  Peigi’s hands began to roam all over Hendry’s body, fumbling with the buttons on his garments. Her hands were trembling just slightly, partly from excitement and partly from the fear of the unknown, but Hendry was right there, undoing his own clothes when Peigi hesitated, not knowing what to do

  Soon, all of his clothes were strewn around the floor of Peigi’s room, and Peigi could finally feel his skin under her hands, warm and smooth.

  Her fingers trailed over Hendry’s chest, and her nails scratched his skin gently, leaving goosebumps behind. Hendry seemed just as gone as she felt, and his gaze never wavered from her face as he finally undressed her completely.

  Then he stopped. He pulled back just a little, looking at Peigi, at the curves and the lines of her body. Peigi shuddered as his hand traced the contours of her body, caressi
ng her skin from waist to thigh. She couldn’t look at him anymore. She felt too exposed, too embarrassed to meet his gaze, and so she closed her eyes, tilting her head back as Hendry lavished her with attention.

  It seemed that Hendry had different ideas though, and he brought a hand up to cup her face.

  “Open yer eyes, Peigi,” he whispered to her, and she did as he wanted, meeting his gaze once more. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than ye.”

  Peigi’s face was on fire, and she was certain that she was bright red, but she didn’t close her eyes again. There was no reason to be embarrassed, she realized; Hendry wanted her as much as she wanted him. She pulled him closer, and Hendry went easily, covering her body with his.

  Then Hendry’s hand was suddenly between her legs, his fingertips caressing her sensitive flesh there ever so gently. Peigi’s entire body stiffened up, like a taut string, the feeling of Hendry touching her there so strange yet so welcome.