Authors: Patricia; Grasso
Gordon placed one finger across her mouth and ordered, “Say ‘thank ye,’ angel, and then shut yer temptin’ lips.”
Rob smiled in spite of herself. “Thank ye, my lord.” She made a gesture as though she were buttoning her lips together.
“Yer so sweet,” Gordon said, leaning close to plant a chaste kiss on her lips. “I believe I’ll keep ye around forever.”
Chapter 5
December the twenty-third . . . the Great Blank Day with the secret of the unhewn stone . . . expect the unexpected.
Rob shivered as she recalled Gordon’s words. Anything could happen today, and she knew for a fact that she didn’t possess enough inner strength to survive more of the unexpected.
Since that day three weeks earlier when the Marquess of Inverary had barged into her life, Rob had felt her emotional fortitude slipping away slowly but surely. She’d passed the better part of each day with him and, thus far, had managed to keep him and his oh-so-inviting lips at bay; but she lacked the necessary strength to guard her heart from him indefinitely.
In spite of his arrogance, Gordon Campbell attracted her like no other man ever had. Rob knew that as surely as she knew that she had to marry Henry Talbot and remain in England forever.
And yet, the past three weeks had been pleasantly exciting. No court would ever find the Marquess of Inverary guilty of inciting boredom. Rob never felt so wonderfully alive than when she was in his presence.
Gordon and she rode in the morning and golfed in the garden during the afternoon. Each evening they sat in front of the hearth in the great hall and played a spirited game of chess while her five cousins watched.
Immediately following their chess game, which he always won, Gordon would disappear into her uncle’s study to discuss business ventures. He insisted their clan’s interests needed diversifying.
Rob felt certain her uncle was trying to maneuver her into the untenable position of being unable to refuse the marquess when the first day of spring arrived. His forming alliances with the man she planned to reject was risky business.
On the other hand, perhaps Uncle Richard believed that James Stuart was destined to succeed Queen Elizabeth. If the Scots king sat on the throne of England, then those Englishmen who enjoyed high-ranking Scots friends would secure their positions at the new court. How like Uncle Richard to solve problems before they arose.
Rob shivered in spite of the fire that blazed in the hearth, grabbed her black cashmere shawl, and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then she crossed the chamber to gaze out the window.
The weather, springlike until a few days ago, had taken a turn for the worse. A raw, bone-chilling rain fell steadily; and the angry, east wind beat against the windows, making them rattle. Its lonely howl reminded her of the Highlands and made her homesick. Though she never wanted to live there again, Rob missed her parents and her brothers.
And how would she entertain Gordon Campbell on such a miserable day? Rob wondered, giving herself a mental shake. She’d probably pass the next ten hours fending off his kisses. How could she survive a whole day of that tender torture?
She wasn’t immune to his charm, and her firm resolve was weakening. Shielding her heart against his amorous advances was becoming more difficult with each passing day, even more draining than ignoring the taunts of the MacArthur clan’s children.
The Great Blank Day . . . expect the unexpected.
Rob sighed, squared her shoulders, and started for the door. She might as well venture downstairs and meet whatever was destined to happen that day.
When she heard the knocking, Rob stopped short and stared at the door as if it had suddenly become a living entity. Apparently, the “unexpected” had wearied of waiting and had decided to come looking for her.
“My lady?” The voice on the other side of the door belonged to Jennings, the earl’s majordomo. “My lady, are you there?”
Rob opened the door. “Yes, Mr. Jennin’s?”
“A guest awaits you in the great hall,” he announced.
That surprised Rob. “Is Lord Campbell aboot?”
Jennings shook his head. “The marquess rode out this morning and hasn’t returned yet.”
“He went ridin’ in this weather?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Thank ye, Mr. Jennin’s.” Rob walked past him and hurried down the corridor to the stairs.
Reaching the foyer, Rob hid her stained left hand in the pocket of her gown. A smile of pure joy lit her face when she stepped inside the great hall.
“Henry!” she cried.
In her excitement, Rob pulled her hand from her pocket and rushed across the hall. She leaped into Henry Talbot’s open arms and hugged him as if she’d never let him go. Her gallant knight had returned to rescue her from a life in the hostile Highlands.
Rob looked up in time to see his handsome face descending to hers. She quickly turned her face away, and his kiss landed on her cheek.
“Am I to assume your annulment hasn’t been granted?” Henry asked, his voice tinged with amused irritation.
“’Tis been delayed,” Rob lied, stepping back a pace and taking his hand in hers. “Ye must be terribly chilled, my lord. Come and warm yerself in front of the hearth. How long can ye stay?”
Ignoring her question, Henry let himself be led to one of the chairs in front of the hearth. He grasped her wrist as he sat down and pulled her onto his lap.
Rob giggled. “Henry, please. ’Tis unseemly.”
“I’ve been gone for six weeks and still you refuse to kiss me,” he complained. “The least you can do is perch upon my lap.”
Rob hastily moved her right hand to cover her left hand. She was almost as concerned with hiding the ring Gordon had given her as she was with masking her devil’s flower.
For a long moment, Rob gazed at Henry’s handsome face. He was the same man she’d known and loved for more than a year but, somehow, not quite as irresistibly appealing as he’d been two months earlier. She knew without a doubt that he wanted her, but her aunt’s probing questions slammed into her consciousness.
Did she want to remain in England because she loved Henry? Or did she love Henry because she wanted to remain in England?
“Darling, tell me how much you missed me,” Henry said, drawing her attention from troubling thoughts.
“Ye know I amna free to tell ye any such thin’,” Rob chided him gently, a flirtatious smile touching her lips.
“God’s balls, lass,” drawled a familiar voice behind them. “Surely ye can tell the man how little ye missed him?”
“Great Bruce’s ghost,” Rob exclaimed, leaping off Henry’s lap. She whirled around and saw a grim-faced Gordon Campbell advancing on them.
Wearing a puzzled expression, Henry rose from the chair and turned around. “Who is this?” he asked.
“Gordon Campbell, the Marquess of Inverary,” Rob said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “Gordon, this is Henry Talbot, the Marquess of Ludlow.”
The two rivals stared at each other in hostile silence. Watching them, Rob furiously ran a finger back and forth across the devil’s flower staining her hand.
“Has Campbell ridden the long distance from Scotland to deliver the betrothal annulment in person?” Henry asked, flicking a glance at her.
“Well, no,” she hedged, mentally squirming. “But all I need to do is behave agreeably until the first day of spring. Then he’ll give me the annulment if I wish.”
Gordon caught Henry’s attention and then insolently perused Rob from the top of her head to the tips of her dainty feet, his heated gaze lingering on her more interesting curves. “Rob’s been ever so agreeable,” he said, his tone of voice implying more than companionship. “Why, ye canna imagine how verra agreeable she’s been.”
“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” Henry said in a clipped voice.
Gordon merely smiled at him.
“Annul your betrothal,” Henry threatened, “or we’ll see you in court.”
In a flash of movement, Gordon pulled his last resort from his boot. “Courts are for cowards,” he said. “Draw yer dagger, and we’ll settle this here and now.”
“No!” Rob screamed as Henry pulled his own dagger from his belt.
“Sheath your weapons,” ordered the voice of authority.
Rob whirled toward the hall’s entrance. Much to her relief, Uncle Richard and Aunt Keely hurried across the chamber toward them.
“Campbell is trying to steal my intended,” Henry complained, sheathing his dagger.
“She belonged to me long before ye ever met her,” Gordon shot back, returning his blade to its hiding place. “The lass played ye for a fool, man. Ye’d be wise to forget aboot her.”
Ready to argue, Rob began, “Now just one minute —”
“Silence,” Earl Richard ordered.
“Arguing is so futile an activity,” the countess added, casting both marquesses a reproving look.
Lady Keely took Rob’s hand and led her to the chairs in front of the hearth. The three men followed and stood nearby. Earl Richard began to question Henry about what was happening at court.
Feeling horribly awkward, Rob refused to meet either suitor’s gaze. She stared at her lap and rubbed a finger back and forth across her devil’s flower. The conversation about court life swirled around her; but, so immersed in her own misery, Rob was unable to focus on it.
What if Gordon Campbell broke his promise? What if he told Henry that they were already married? Her dream to remain in England would be destroyed. She’d lied to Henry, and never again would he trust her once he realized how unworthy she was.
Rob stole a peek at Gordon. His attention was fixed on the movement of her hands. She instantly dropped her gaze and hid her deformity behind her right hand.
Unexpectedly, a hand offered her a linen-wrapped package. Rob snapped her gaze up.
“I’ve brought you a gift,” Henry said with a smile.
“Thank ye, my lord.” Accepting it, Rob flicked a nervous glance at Gordon and then slowly unwrapped the linen. Relief surged through her when she saw the wonderfully innocuous book. She flipped through the first few pages and realized the words were written in a foreign language.
Was she now required to admit to being ignorant in addition to being deformed? Rob thought as humiliation stained her cheeks pink. How could Henry gift her with this? Didn’t he realize that her education could never equal that of a sophisticated lady of the Tudor court? Well, she would pretend to read it.
“French love poems,” Henry was saying for the benefit of the others.
“Apparently, my sweet betrothed is unschooled in French,” Gordon remarked with obvious satisfaction. He offered her his gift, saying, “I rode into Londontown this mornin’ to fetch these for ye, angel.”
Crimson with angry embarrassment, Rob wondered how he’d known she was unable to read French. She squelched the almost overpowering urge to toss Gordon’s gift into his face; instead, she managed an insincere smile and reluctantly opened the box. Inside lay at least a dozen pairs of lacy gloves — fashioned without any fingers like his golf gloves — in colors that matched the gowns in her wardrobe.
“How lovely,” Lady Keely said.
“The merchants cheated you, Campbell,” Henry said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “You’ve purchased gloves without any fingers.”
Gordon said nothing.
Ignoring their byplay, Rob stared in misery at the fingerless gloves. Old Clootie’s mark disturbed Gordon. He would never admit it, but his actions did speak louder than his words. Her husband had purchased these gloves so that neither he nor anyone else would be forced to see the devil’s flower staining the back of her left hand. How embarrassing it would be if others discovered how flawed his bride was.
“Did you hear me, sweetheart?”
Rob raised her gaze to Henry. “I beg yer pardon?”
“We’ve business to discuss in the study,” he said. “I’ll see you again before I return to Hampton Court.”
“Yer leavin’ today?”
Henry gave her an apologetic smile. “The Lord of Misrule presides over all the holiday entertainments. You wouldn’t want me to shirk my duties to the queen, would you?”
“I understand,” Rob said. Glancing back over her shoulder, she watched him follow Uncle Richard and Gordon out of the hall.
Bleak melancholy and aching regret mingled within her breast. Rob sensed that her relationship with Henry would never be quite the same after that day. Even if she did manage to rid herself of her arrogant Highland marquess, happiness would elude her, and misery would follow every step she took in life.
Absently, Rob fingered the beggar bead necklace and stared into the hearth’s hypnotic flames. Glistening tears welled up in her eyes and then slid slowly down her cheeks.
Great Bruce’s ghost, what a coil! Was she falling in love with the man she refused to marry? Would she never find heart’s ease?
Rob looked at the two gifts that sat in her lap, a book of love poems she was unable to read and a dozen pairs of fingerless gloves to hide her shame. Ignorant and deformed, a vile freak to be cast out. That’s what she was.
“Do you wish to talk about it?” Lady Keely asked, her voice soothingly gentle.