“Nay, my lord, ye but surprised me. I am no fool. It is obvious ye have been disappointed by beautiful lasses. I am not beautiful, but if I were I should still endeavor to be a good wife to ye,” Annabella told him.
He raised to his lips the small hand he held, and kissed it. “Madam, I apologize, for I have offended ye. It is not a good way for us to begin. Will you forgive me?” He smiled a little smile at her.
Unable to help herself, Annabella smiled back, showing him a row of perfect little white teeth. How many women, she wondered, had given in to that smile? “Ye’re forgiven, my lord. This walking and talking was a wise decision. Now tell me what ye have planned for today. I am anxious to conclude the formalities so I may bathe. I stink of the road and of my horse. I want a hot bath more than anything.”
“I had planned to have the ceremony immediately, but ye cannot be wed to me in that gown. Whoever chose such a color for you did you no kindness,” the earl told her. “Yer pale skin needs clear, bright colors, not this dull gray. Duin has its own church, and my people will be crowded into it to get their first glimpse of their new lady. I would have them see ye at yer best, madam.”
“I fear my other two gowns are as drab,” Annabella informed him. “One is brown, and the other is black.”
“Ye will find a complete new wardrobe in yer apartments, madam,” he told her. “Yer mam was kind enough to send me the measurements I required. There may be some small adjustments needed, but ye shall have a fine gown to wear at our wedding ceremony. Ye will have yer bath first, and then Jean will garb ye in yer new finery.”
“But how did ye know which colors would suit me?” Annabella asked him.
“I was told ye were as pale as the moon, with hair like ebony,” he said. “It was enough. Tell Jean to choose something particularly festive.” He smiled down at her again, and she felt her knees weaken. “Now we are almost home, madam, so let us hurry.”
They continued on down the castle road, finally crossing over the broad oak drawbridge. There was no moat, Annabella saw, but rather beneath the drawbridge was a chasm that fell to the sea itself. Duin Castle, she now realized, stood upon a great cliff separated from the land. “Where is yer village?” she asked him, curious.
“Look to yer left,” he said. “Ye can see the church tower from here. The village was built around St. Andrew’s. Ye can inspect it in a few days. Our people farm and fish.” He led her beneath the great iron portcullis and into a large courtyard. “Welcome home, madam!” he said to her. “Welcome to Duin!”
Looking about her, Annabella could see the lines of the original house that had become a small castle. Her curiosity aroused, she looked forward to exploring it and learning all about it. “Thank ye, my lord,” she said, accepting his welcome.
Jean came forth from the house, smiling.
“The countess will bathe and change into something more suitable,” the earl told his half sister. “Help her choose something festive, Jeannie. When she is ready we will celebrate the formalities at St. Andrew’s.”
“Aye, my lord,” Jean answered him. Then she said, “My mother is here to meet yer bride. She’ll want to help.”
“Ye’ll like old Jeanne,” the earl said. “She is a second mother to me.” He raised her hand to his lips once more, kissed it, and then released it.
Annabella felt suddenly and strangely bereft at the loss of the strong fingers that had wrapped themselves about hers just a moment before. “I will try not to keep ye waiting too long, my lord,” she said as she curtsied to him.
He smiled a brilliant smile at her that seemed to light his whole face. “A woman preparing for her wedding cannot be faulted if she takes her time,” he said.
“Bothwell is in the hall, and he’s in a rare temper,” Jean told her brother before she turned away to escort Annabella to her apartments.
The earl nodded and hurried off.
“The Earl of Bothwell?” Annabella asked as they hurried into the castle and up the stairs to her apartments. “James Hepburn?”
“Aye,” Jean said. “He and Angus have been friends since they were lads. His da, the fair earl, fell in love with Marie de Guise and divorced his wife so he might woo her. Of course, it was useless, for Marie’s sole reason for living was her daughter. Eventually Patrick Hepburn betrayed Scotland. I think that is why his son is so loyal to it. It’s as if James Hepburn is attempting to make up for his father’s treason. His sister, Janet, is married to John Stewart, another bastard son of King James V. He controls and has the income from the priory of Coldingham.”
They walked down a hallway lined in windows on one side. They had reached their destination. Jean flung open one side of a double door and ushered her mistress into her new apartment. Annabella was enchanted. The dayroom was paneled in warm wood. There was a stone fireplace flanked by stone greyhounds that was blazing with a bright fire. The leaded windows overlooked the sea and were hung with burgundy-colored velvet draperies. The furniture was warm golden oak, the settle and straight-backed chairs cushioned. There was a red-and-blue carpet upon the wood floor. Her mother did not have a dayroom, although they had heard of such chambers, and she had always believed a dayroom was for the rich. Then she recalled that her husband was a wealthy man. And as his wife, she now had a dayroom. She could not help but think that Myrna would be very jealous.
An older woman resembling Jean came forward. She curtsied politely to Annabella. “I am Jeanne, my lady. I served the earl’s mama until her death several years ago. If I may be of service to ye at any time, ye have but to ask. I live in a cottage in the village, tending to my two grandchildren.”
“Thank ye, Jeanne,” Annabella said. “I didn’t realize Matthew was wed and had two bairns of his own.”
Jeanne chortled. “I doubt I shall ever live to see my son wed. The bairns I care for are Jeannie’s. Both she and her man are in service to the earl.”
“But I should not take ye from yer bairns,” Annabella said to Jean.
“Aye,” Jean replied, “ye should! Mama is much better with them than I am.”
“All here is as it should be, my lady,” Jeanne told Annabella. “I have served my time with my mistress, Madame Adrienne. We were girls together in Brittany. I chose to come to Scotland when she married the laird. Now it is my daughter’s time to serve ye. My grandsons are my joy. Now, having met ye, I will leave ye, for it is past time for ye to prepare for yer wedding to the earl.” She curtsied and departed.
“Ye have a special chamber for bathing,” Jean said to her. “I can pump cold water into it, but we must send for hot water.” She reached for the bellpull near the fireplace and yanked on it. A maidservant immediately appeared, and Jean gave her instructions. The girl hurried off. “Let’s choose yer gown,” Jean suggested. She led Annabella to a small windowless room off the dayroom. There were two large wooden wardrobes against a wall inside the chamber. Jean flung open the doors to the tall chests. “Here are the gowns the earl had made for ye. There is a burgundy velvet I particularly like, but ye must pick yerself.”
Annabella caught her breath as she looked at the beautiful gowns hanging from pieces of carved wood within the cabinets. What luxury! At home, their gowns had been packed in their trunks until needed and set out the day before wearing to air and lose their wrinkles. The colors were wonderful. Bright and clear. Scarlet. Rich deep green without a hint of yellow or blue. Sea blue. A sunny gold, tawny orange, deep bright pink, lavender, violet, apple green. But it was a cheerful yellow velvet skirt that caught her eye. She looked about for a bodice to go with it and found a cream velvet one embroidered with copper silk butterflies and fat bumblebees.
