Page 16 of Highlander’s Lust

8

Rumors and Conjecture

Charlie was pacing in front of the fireplace like a caged lion. He could not wait for Jean to come downstairs so that he could drink his fill of her beauty once more. When he heard the door open, he twisted around, eager happiness on his face.

“Who’re ye expecting, a visit from the king?” It was Gavin.

“What the hell are ye doing here?” Charlie snarled.

Gavin stepped back in shock; he had never seen such raw frustration in his friend’s eyes before.

“We were to meet up at the tavern, or don’ ye remember? Has yer wee betrothed got yer leg shackled already?”

Charlie was in no mood for his friend’s levity. “If I forgot, can ye blame me? Jean arrived today, and I’m in torment. It’s all I can do to keep me hands off the girl. I cannae sleep or eat. The image of her in my mind consumes me every waking moment.”

Gavin chuckled. “Hoots, lad! Ye’ve been bitten bad! I’ve never seen ye so distracted over a wench before.”

Charlie strode to the side table, pushed against the wall, and poured himself a generous drink. After gulping it down in one, he refilled his glass, saying, “She’s cast a spell over me, Gav. Maybe a visit to the tavern later will clear me mind of her glamor.”

Gavin shook his head. “I agree wi’ ye, Charlie. The lass is exquisite, with a face and figure that promises a man much fun and frolicking in the bed—” He saw the ferocious look in Charlie’s eyes, and stammered, “That is to s-say, no offense intended that she’s about to be yer wife, an’ all. She’s lovely, and I-I wish ye both very happy.”

Charlie remained decidedly unmollified. He paced the room from side to side and was about to tell his friend to go on to the tavern without him when Jean entered the room. It was as if time had frozen. Both men stood immobile as she walked in, trailing the soft scent of jasmine behind her. The long hair that proclaimed her maidenly status fell down her back, and past the waist of her gown, like a blanket of red velvet. She smiled, her face a question, looking toward Gavin MacTavish.

“I don’ suppose ye were here long enough to meet Gavin before, Jeannie,” Laird Brisbane said to her, “but ye’ll most likely be seeing a lot more of the rogue in the future. His faither’s a chieftain of some importance once ye cross over the mountain.”

Jean curtsied, and Gavin gave a flourishing bow. With the formalities over, Jean gestured toward the satin-covered settle and armchairs. “Shall we sit down?”

The men felt ill at ease making polite conversation with Jean in the front room. They were used to more convivial surroundings.

Charlie used this opportunity to take Jean by the hand and guide her out of the room, not even bothering to see if Gavin was following. “Ye must be famished, Jeannie. Let us rather go and sit in the dining room; ye have nae seen it yet, and me faither used to call it a fine example of medieval architecture.”

He heard Gavin chuckle and had to fight back the urge to turn and cuff the side of his friend’s head. How dare he mock his efforts to make Jean more comfortable inside the castle! The fortress of Brisbane was hundreds of years old and a labyrinth of corridors and chambers branching off into towers, turrets, and halls. Charlie was proud of his family home and wanted his betrothed to learn all its hidden passages and dark cellars.

As they traversed the great hall, Jean was distracted by an enormous portrait of a beautiful dark-haired lady placed high above the clan badge plastered over the fireplace. It dominated the room. The lady’s dark blue eyes seemed to follow them as they walked past.

“Whoever is that divine creature?” Jean wanted to know. “She looks more like a Greek goddess or maiden from the tales of auld: Aphrodite or Helen of Troy.”

Charlie stopped and looked up at his mother’s portrait, as though he were seeing it for the first time.

“Aye, ‘tis me mither, Jeannie. She passed away when I was a wee lad, as I told ye.”

They moved closer to the wall holding the portrait.

“She’s very beautiful,” was all Jean could think to say, feeling sorry for Charlie losing his mother at a young age. He sounded sad when he spoke of her.

He took her by the arm and pulled her closer to the clan badge under the portrait.

He read out the words etched onto the encircled belt. “‘Here is our emblem. Fill the fetters when e’er ye furth. Find fortune.’”

“How barbaric,” Jean commented, her eyes wide. “Fight yer enemies, bring them back in chains, and gain riches by doing so! I would hate to meet any of yer ancestors on a dark an’ lonely night!”

Gavin chuckled behind them. “Nothin’ changed, Miss Macanroy! Ye would still shudder to meet Charlie on a dark an’ lonely night, but for other reasons.”

Laird Brisbane frowned his friend down. “Don’t bring rumors and conjecture to me betrothed’s notice, Gav,” he growled.

They entered the dining room. Jean’s eyes widened when she saw the magnificent bronze sconces burning dozens of candles. The place was as bright and glittering as the gold plate set out on the dining table, which was long enough to seat over sixty diners all at once.

He went to the ornately carved armchair at the head of the table and pulled out the chair on its right, waving the footman away who had stepped forward to do it.