“You will see, Patrick. And I would not harm that sweet wife of his for the world, but you will see. He will glower at me and make cruel remarks. She is not stupid, and she will wonder what it is all about. And his roughneck brothers and their wives will tell her I am flirting with him to take the onus off of him.”
“Is there anywhere else we might stop?” he asked her.
“No,” she admitted glumly.
“Then we have no choice but to stop at Claven’s Carn.”
“I shall say I am weary and must go to my bed immediately,” Rosamund decided.
“Aye,” Glenkirk agreed, “that would be best. Slump in your saddle and feign great exhaustion, sweetheart. I will speak for our party. And we have Annie and her belly, too.” He chuckled. “ ’Tis a sad group we are.”
The earl had hired a group of men-at-arms in Edinburgh to accompany them to Friarsgate. Now, Rosamund, Annie, and the others behind him, he hailed the closed gates at Claven’s Carn. “Ho, the castle!” he shouted.
“Who goes there?” a voice from the heights demanded.
“Patrick Leslie, Earl of Glenkirk, the lady of Friarsgate, two servants, and twenty men-at-arms. We request shelter for the night. The lady and the servant girl who is with child are wearied and can travel no farther. We ask the hospitality of Logan Hepburn and his wife.”
“Remain there while I seek my master,” the voice from the darkened heights said.
They waited and they waited. The minutes passed while the wind began to come up, and there was the smell of rain in the air.
“He would refuse,” Rosamund said, “but his wife prevails upon him to remember that courtesy must be rendered to a traveler who asks it.”
“You seem to know him well,” Glenkirk said dryly.
“He is not a complex man,” Rosamund replied sharply. Then she laughed softly. “He will have to give in to Jeannie’s pleas or seem quite mean-spirited. If he had not this young wife, he would refuse us. As it is, he will make us wait outside his gates like beggars, wondering. He knows we would not ask shelter of him had we any other choice.”
“Tomorrow you shall be home,” Glenkirk soothed her.
A light rain began to fall, yet they still waited. Finally, they heard the creak of the portcullis as it was slowly raised, and the double wooden entrance doors began to slowly open, but just enough to allow them entry, one by one, into the courtyard. There they found the master of the house awaiting them with his pretty wife, who was very great with child. Patrick dismounted and then lifted Rosamund down from her horse. She slumped against him as if she were barely able to stand.
“I appreciate your hospitality, Logan Hepburn, and yours also, my lady Jean,” the earl said in gracious tones. “Is there somewhere my lady might lay her head, for she is spent with all our travels? We were too eager, I fear, to reach Friarsgate today, and the darkness caught us.” He smiled.
“Oh, the poor lady!” Jeannie said sympathetically. Her blue eyes went past Rosamund to Annie. “Come lass, you and your mistress,” she said. “I will see you are bedded down. Have you eaten?” She bustled about them clucking.
“I fear I must carry the lady,” the earl said, as Rosamund began to crumble to the ground by his side. He caught her up, murmuring as he did so, “Vixen! If there are stairs, you will have to carry me.”
Rosamund swallowed back her laughter, pushing her face into his big shoulder to muffle the sound of it. But her amusement was cut short when Logan spoke.
“Give her to me, my lord, for there are stairs, and the lady has not a child’s weight.” He took Rosamund from the earl and strode purposefully into his house with Annie and the others following in his wake.
“He is so thoughtful,” Jeannie said, taking the earl’s arm to bring him inside. “He will put her in the guest chamber. Follow after him, lassie,” she told Annie.
Logan took the stairs to the second floor of his house two at a time. He stamped down a dim hallway, kicked open a door, and entered a chamber. Dumping her on the bed, he snarled, “Did you have to come here, lady? Did you have to torture me once more with your perfidy?”
“I would have sooner bedded in hell this night,” Rosamund snapped back at him.
“So,” he said, “you are not as weary as you pretended to be. Is there no end to your duplicitous nature?”
“Do not speak to me that way, my lord,” she told him. “I simply wished to avoid the scene now ensuing between us. You have a good wife, and I actually like the lass. I would not have her learn of your deceitful nature, especially as you seem to have gotten her so quickly with child. When is the bairn due?”
“It should be our child, Rosamund,” he said softly. “I love you, and I always have. They forced me into this marriage because you fell so publicly into bed with Lord Leslie. This child should be ours!”
“Villain!” she cried. “Get out! Get out! Oh, I pray the Holy Mother that your wife never learns how cruel you really are.”
“I am never unkind to Jeannie,” he quickly responded. “She is as much a victim as I am, though she knows it not. She is like a small helpless kitten. You cannot be cruel to such a creature. You love it, and you protect it.”
“Then why do you speak to me so?” Rosamund demanded of him.
