Highland Heat (29 page)

“I will attend the lady when I have finished seeing the Cameron women who have come seeking settlement this day.”

The two women in front of her nodded firmly with approval, but the lady’s attendant sniffed again.

“Ye are no’ the Countess of Drumdeer, and yer word should nae carry any authority,” she announced.

“The laird said it did,” Amber insisted.

Deirdre stood and placed a gentle hand on Amber’s forearm to quiet the girl. Amber closed her mouth, but she made a low sound beneath her breath that made it plain she was not happy.

“I am attending to the duties given to me, and my answer has no’ changed. I will attend yer lady when I am finished with the things that need doing for the clan.”

The attendant narrowed her eyes. “Ye had best make haste. The Countess of Braunfield is yer better and should nae be kept waiting on the likes of you. It is yer duty to answer her summons promptly.”

Amber sputtered, but the lady’s attendant swept from the chamber with another sniff. The two Cameron women both shook their heads.

“There’s no respect in that one for her elders, and that’s a solid fact,” one of them muttered before turning back to look at Deirdre. “I’m right happy to see ye are no’ impressed with that sort of arrogance.”

The compliment was approved by the other woman, and Amber nodded as well, but Deirdre couldn’t dismiss the feeling of dread that had begun churning inside her stomach. Mary Ross was a countess, and many would give her deference without question. Quinton’s words surface from her memory, and she stood because connection did mean a great deal among the nobles. Mary had shunned Quinton in favor of wedding a more connected earl.

“Forgive me, but I would no’ give that lady cause to speak ill of Laird Cameron because I failed to answer her summons.”

Deirdre nodded with respect toward the two older women. They contemplated her for a moment before one of them pointed a finger at her.

“Aye, ye’re a clever one, and that’s for sure. The earl needs to be thinking of his reputation among all those titled lairds at court. For sure that’s why he’s placed ye here to oversee Cameron issues.”

Deirdre left the chamber with Amber trailing her.

“Ye shouldn’t do anything that horrible woman says.”

“Yer laird made her welcome. I cannae do any less. Besides, some things are best done quickly so that the thought of them does nae fester.”

Amber scoffed at her. “He did nae tell her she might be Drumdeer’s mistress. He gave that honor to ye. That woman has been saying the most awful things to everyone. She’s no’ happy about any service offered to her, and she’s taken over the solar like it is her own.”

Quinton had prepared it for her…

Deirdre had to force the lump that formed in her throat down. She refused to cower in front of the woman who had hurt Quinton so deeply. Mary Ross was a whore, just like any woman who took coin for her favors on the waterfront. She’d peddled her beauty for a title that she obviously enjoyed very much.

But love was more important. The only thing Deirdre felt was envy, because she yearned to have Quinton’s love. She only felt scorn for the woman who had plunged a dagger into his heart.

Amber went to knock on the door of the solar, but the Sinclair retainers who guarded it refused to allow her close. Amber propped her hands on her hips.

“Yer countess summoned my lady, in spite of the fact that Lady Deirdre has responsibilities to see to.”

The retainer nodded and backed up to clear the way to the door. Amber stepped forward to knock. The same attendant opened it a moment later. She sniffed when she identified who was waiting to see Mary Ross.

“Just ye.”

“I go everywhere with my lady Deirdre,” Amber argued.

The attendant raised one of her manicured eyebrows. “My lady does nae allow her private conversations to be overheard by anyone in whom she does nae have the deepest trust.”

Amber scoffed. “Ye mean witnessed by those who will tell the facts plainly without worrying that their pay might be subject to their lady’s displeasure.”

The attendant drew in a stiff breath. “Why, ye little peasant.” She flipped her hand in the air. “Be gone before I have ye removed.”

The Sinclair retainer looked at Amber, but Deirdre stepped between him and the Cameron girl. Amber reached out and gripped her wrist.

“Come with me, Lady Deirdre. Ye should no’ stay here. The laird would no’ like it. Not with such conditions that ye be seen alone.”

Deirdre looked at Amber. “There is nothing I fear from Mary Ross. I’ll see what she wants and be down to join ye soon. We couldn’t have the Sinclair thinking the Camerons and the Chattan do nae teach their daughters manners.”

Amber didn’t look appeased. The girl frowned, but Deirdre gently lifted her hand away from her wrist. “Besides, I refuse to think there is anything to fear from being summoned by Lady Braunfield.”

Amber smiled. She nodded. “As ye say, Lady Deirdre.” She drew out the “lady,” and the waiting attendant hissed.

“Peasant,” she muttered when Deirdre entered the solar.

Deirdre didn’t get to see Amber’s response, but the attendant made a snorting sound before she shut the chamber door with a little too much force.

“Alice, have ye taken leave of yer senses?” Mary Ross called from across the solar. “Ye know I do nae care for loud noises.”

The attendant turned in a swirl of silk velvet and lowered herself quickly. “Forgive me, my lady. The Cameron girl was insisting on following her mistress in.”

“Ye mean Quinton’s mistress, for that is all she is. Deirdre Chattan is a shamed woman who has found herself another man to whore for.” Mary Ross spoke as though Deirdre were not standing in the room. The Countess of Braunfield eyed her expectantly. Deirdre offered a nod only, refusing the arrogant woman a courtesy.

Mary Ross frowned. “Ye are foolish to tempt my displeasure.”

Deirdre moved forward with her chin held high. “I think ye are presumptuous to demand such currying of yer favor here. This is the Highlands, no’ the royal court.”

The countess surprised her by smiling. When she did, her face became radiant, until Deirdre looked into her eyes. In spite of the beautiful blue shade, they showed just how calculating Mary was.

It was quite an ugly sight.

“I know where I am, Deirdre Chattan.” Mary Ross stood and began walking around the chamber. “I am in the solar Quinton prepared for me.” She sounded smug as she stared at all the fine things. At last she came back around to where Deirdre stood watching her.

Mary spread her hands out wide. “Everything in this chamber was bought for me with only one purpose in mind—to please me.” She pressed her lips into a small pout. “It was simply too bad Quinton wasn’t the most titled man at court that season, but since ye are the daughter of a laird, ye should understand a daughter must catch the best husband possible.”

“So ye told Quinton. Personally, I think ye a fool for wedding another.”

Mary clicked her tongue. “But I did nae ask ye for yer thoughts on the matter. I would never take any advice from ye. Ye’re the foolish one, spreading yer thighs before the wedding. Little wonder ye have naught to show for the two lovers ye’ve had, except that bastard growing in yer belly.”

All the attendants stared at her belly, while Deirdre covered it with her hands. Confusion swept through her as she considered whether she might be carrying a child. She hadn’t thought about it, not since the first morning after sharing Quinton’s bed. “What are ye talking about?” She tried to resist the urge to feel her abdomen, but she couldn’t recall the last time she’d bled either.

Mary went over to the desk and picked up several letters. “I may have married Gower Sinclair because he had more holdings than Quinton, but I assure ye I have always kept myself informed of what Quinton was doing, because he is the man I wanted most of all. It’s a desire I have no’ abandoned, nor shall I.” She looked at the letters. “A very reliable source at Strome reports ye did nae bleed there.”

Mary clicked her tongue again and shifted the letter to the bottom of her pile while reading the next one. “Ah… and here I have a report that ye never bled here either. Nae before or since yer return. So…”

Mary laid the letters aside. “Ye are carrying Quinton’s bastard.” Her tone became menacing. “The first one never shows early on, but yer waistline is thicker, and yer tits are plump. Since ye came in early spring, ye might be as much as four months along now. Do nae be so stupid as to think ye might fool me into believing ye do nae know. Why else would Quinton be suggesting marrying ye?”

Rage coated Mary’s words now. Her face flushed as she shot a glance full of hatred toward her. All her attendants lined up behind her, aiming similar looks at Deirdre.

“Quinton needs a son, but I shall be the one to give it to him, not ye.”

Deirdre forced her surprise down. It was possible she was with child, and it was slightly embarrassing to admit she had not thought upon the lack of her monthly cycles. But even the hint of possibility made her suddenly protective of the life that might be sleeping inside her belly.

“Ye are wed to another man, Mary Ross, so yer words are sinful.”

Mary suddenly changed her expression. Instantly, her face became a mask of sadness, but once again when Deirdre looked into the woman’s eyes, she could see the cold, calculating look that betrayed her.

“It’s really very sad, but Gower died last week. Of course, he was old, and it was to be expected.” She sighed, but her lips lifted into a smile mere moments later.

“So, ye see… I will be wedding Quinton Cameron. Why else do ye think he has gone so long without contracting another bride?” Mary laughed, soft and menacing. “Why, the answer is very clear. He has been waiting for me.”

“I do nae believe that.” She refused to accept it. She laced her fingers over her belly, protecting the precious life that might be growing there.

Mary scoffed at her. “Believe? Oh aye, ye have quite a history of men in whom ye believed, but what did that gain ye?” Mary reached over and shuffled the letters again before picking one up. “According to a Sinclair girl who is doing her duty as a nun, ye arrived in shame, yer lover Melor Douglas having renounced ye for the whore ye are.”

Mary tossed the parchment down. “But I am no’ completely unkind.” She picked up another letter. “I know ye tried to prevent Quinton’s seed from taking root in ye. Men can be such selfish bastards when it comes to forcing women to bear their babies. Even ones whom they will no’ honor with their names.” She looked up from the letter and smiled with glee. “Do nae worry. I will help ye get rid of the nuisance.”

“It’s a babe—”

“It is a bastard,” Mary insisted. She snapped her fingers, and one of her attendants came forward with a mug with steam rising from the top.

“Drink that, and ye will lose it tonight. Ye cannae be further than four months along, so it will nae be so difficult to hide.”

“No.”

Deirdre spit the single word out and backed away from the offered mug. Her hands flattened over her belly, guarding it as she felt the rise of her temper and an urge to strangle the woman who suggested such evil.

“I may have asked for a brew to prevent a child from being created, but I will no murder one who already lives.”

“Even if that means birthing a bastard?” Mary came toward her. “I won’t have it beneath my roof, I promise ye. Once Quinton returns, he’ll forget ye even live. I swear that to ye.”

Deirdre lifted her chin, defiance filling her. “Try if ye will, but I believe ye shall fail.”

Mary laughed, as did her attendants. “I will nae fail. Men are always besotted by my beauty.” She opened her eyes wide. “I assure ye, I know how to apply it well. Quinton has fallen beneath my spell before, and now I know so much more about how to keep a man’s attention… it will be simple to regain his favor.”

Mary’s ladies laughed, narrowing their eyes in a knowing manner. “Do what I say, and I’ll make sure ye have an escort to where the queen is. But if ye stay here and let yer belly round, I swear I will have revenge against ye and yer brat.”

Deirdre scoffed at the woman. “Ye disgust me.” And she refused to remain in the room with her another moment. Deirdre turned her back on Mary Ross.

But a splintering pain shot through her head a moment later, and she fell to her knees as her vision went dark.

***

Deirdre felt urgency pounding through her. She needed to wake up but couldn’t remember just why. Still the urge persisted, needling her until she opened her eyes. Her vision was nothing but wavy lines. She blinked and blinked several more times as she tried to restore her sight to normal.

“Alice… get around and tie up her mouth before she wakes up…”

Deirdre tried to sit up, groaning as pain filled her head.

“I told ye to hurry…hit her again so we can get her away from here without her crying out…”

Mary was issuing orders in a hushed tone. Deirdre could hear the attendants’ robes swishing as they hurried to obey. Her thoughts cleared in a moment, and she rolled over, hitting Alice’s legs as the woman took another swing at her. The long piece of firewood hit the floor, because Deirdre had moved. Alice went headfirst over her and cried out when she tumbled head over heels across the Persian carpet in the middle of the solar.

Deirdre rolled over and struggled against whatever bound her hands behind her back.

“Are ye insane, Mary Ross?”

Deirdre rolled over again and slipped her feet through the bound circle of her hands to bring them up in front of her. A silk veil was knotted around her wrists; although delicate, it held very well.

“I am determined…” Mary hissed. “Ye are an ignorant peasant, and I will split yer skull open before I allow ye to have Quinton’s son.”

She swung an iron hook that was used to move logs around in the hearth toward Deirdre’s head. Deirdre ducked and struggled against the binding on her wrists. The other ladies all circled her, and true fear began to seep past her anger. There were five of them and only one of her. She kept moving while she struggled to free her hands. At least she wore simple clothing, unlike Mary’s attendants. They all had to pick up their overrobes to avoid tripping.