“Velvet, dammit! When will ye learn that I will be master in my own house?”
“ ’Twas you who kidnapped me from court and stole me away to Scotland, my lord of BrocCairn! I have told you a hundred times: There will be no wedding until my parents return home!”
About them the men in the hall had grown quiet, listening with keen interest. Here was something that might prove to be amusing.
“Velvet de Marisco, are ye or are ye not my legally betrothed wife? Do ye mean to wed wi’ me or nae?” Alex asked her, and Francis Stewart-Hepburn suddenly realized just what his cousin was doing. He looked to the English beauty.
“Aye, Alex, I am your betrothed wife,” she answered him angrily. “And well you know it! You infuriate me beyond all, but, aye, I will wed with you. Not, however, until my parents return home to England!”
“Ye heard her?” Alex looked to his cousin.
“Aye,” came Bothwell’s level reply.
“And ye?” Alex looked to Pansy, Dugald, and Hercules Stewart. “Did ye hear her?”
“Aye,” they chorused.
The Earl of BrocCairn turned to Velvet and said quietly, “Under the laws of Scotland, Velvet, we are now married. Ye’re now my wife.”
She paled, then shrieked at him,“What?What trick is this you play on me, Alex?”
“No trick, sweetheart. The law of handfast requires only that a man and woman publicly state their intentions to wed in order to be wed. We have done that in the presence of a hall full of witnesses and are therefore married.”
“Never!”she hissed, and then, with a speed that surprised them all, she snatched his jeweled dirk from his belt. “I’ll carve your heart out before I’ll let you do this to me, Alex Gordon!” She held the dirk in a distinctly threatening position toward him.
“God in His heaven!” roared Bothwell. Then he turned to Velvet. “Gie me the dirk, lass. ’Tis no use really, ye know.”
Her mouth trembled. “Nay,” she whispered.
It was a mouth meant for kissing, Bothwell thought, and he sighed. “Lassie, be reasonable. Do ye intend to hold us all here forever, for that is the only choice I can see ye have. Gie me yer weapon, and we will discuss this privately. I am the law here and along the entire border, nae my cousin of BrocCairn.”
Two bright tears rolled down her cheeks, and, reaching out gently, Bothwell took the dirk from her. “Trust me, lass,” he said softly.
“I ought to beat ye black and blue for that,” Alex snarled. “Touch me, and I’ll kill you, I swear it!” Velvet retaliated, her tears gone.
Bothwell was forced to laugh. The lass reminded him of a small, spitting kitten, while his cousin was as belligerent as a large dog. “How long have ye two been betrothed?” he asked.
“I was matched with him when I was five, but he was a man grown and couldn’t be bothered with me in these last ten years!” Velvet said indignantly. “Then his father and brother died, and suddenly he must hurry to England, for hemustmarry and have an heir.”
“It’s a reasonable request!” shouted Alex. “I am the only male left in my direct line!”
“I told you we would be wed in the spring when my parents return from the Indies, but nay! Nothing would do but that you kidnap me and drag me to Scotland, and attempt this mockery of a marriage!”
“I love ye, dammit! I don’t want to wait!”
“You love me?”She looked surprised.
“Aye, ye stubborn jade! I love ye though I don’t understand it myself.” He turned to Bothwell. “Dammit, man, isn’t there somewhere private where we might speak?”
The Border lord hid a smile. Love was a powerful emotion. With a nod of his head he led Velvet and Alex to his library. “If I leave ye alone, can I trust ye nae to kill each other?” he asked, but they didn’t hear him, for they were already too involved in their argument. He left the room, closing the door behind him.
“Velvet, I adore ye, but I can’t wait any longer,” Alex said. “I lay awake nights aching for want of ye. What difference does it make if yer parents are here to see us wed if we love each other? ’Tis a match they planned themselves.”
“I love my parents, Alex.”
“ ’Tis good that ye do, sweetheart, but ye’re no longer a child. All that sweet love ye possess should now be directed toward a man, toward me.” He moved next to her and slipped his arm about her tiny waist. She quivered and tried to pull away, but he would not allow it. “Sweetheart,” he murmured against her ear, kissing it. “I mean to have my way in this, Velvet. Ye love me. I know ye do, though ye will nae say it.”
“Without a priest there is no real marriage between us in my mind and heart, Alex.”
