Chapter 23 #2
of words. She was making it as plain as possible that she was not
here of her own free will.
Both of them were unaware that Mary was
watching them with great interest.
“Jamie,” Mary said imperiously, “you and
Lindsey will sit to my right. Brice and Meredith will sit on my
left side.”
All bowed and took their places when the
queen was seated.
Mary’s confessor, Bishop Edmund Grant, led a
prayer of thanksgiving, which went on endlessly, as he praised the
queen, the Highlanders and all loyal to the throne. At last dozens
of servants, recruited from nearby villages, helped serve the
feast.
The meal was a festive affair, with silver
trays of whole roasted boar, partridge and pheasant, mutton and
venison. There were baskets filled with breads and trays of
puddings, tarts and pastries of every kind. Tankards and goblets
were filled with ale and hot mulled wine.
There were toasts to the queen’s beauty, and
to her wisdom, and to her unborn child. And there were toasts to
the men who had left their homes to see to the queen’s safety, and
toasts to the men who led them.
Through it all, Jamie and Lindsey sat silent
and awkward in each other’s presence.
This was not, Jamie brooded, the reunion he
had planned. He detested the prying eyes, the knowing looks that
passed among many in their company. Worst of all, he was aware of
the tension in the lass beside him.
For Lindsey, the hours seated beside Jamie
were the longest she had ever spent. She was achingly aware of the
muscled thigh that brushed hers, of the callused fingers that
closed around the stem of his goblet.
When the banquet was finished, they retired
to a great hall, made festive with fires blazing on the hearth and
a velvet throne on a raised platform.
When all had assembled the queen took her
seat upon the throne and announced, “I command Jamie MacDonald to
come forward.”
Bewildered, Jamie made his way to the throne
and bowed before the queen.
Robbie stepped forward and recited stirring
verses about Jamie MacDonald, and his loyalty to his beloved queen.
When he had finished, many in the crowd were openly weeping.
At a signal, Brice handed the queen his
jeweled sword. “Kneel,” Mary whispered.
Jamie knelt.
The crowd fell silent.
In loud, clear tones the queen intoned,
“James Devin MacDonald, I pronounce you the Queen’s Champion and
Sir Knight. Along with your title, I award to you the lands that
stretch from Callender in Perthshire to the land from Sterling to
the Clyde, and I appoint you laird of all the MacDonald clans in
Glengarry, who have long been without a leader.” She touched each
of his shoulders with the blade of the sword, then said, “Arise,
Sir James Devin MacDonald, and accept the acknowledgement of a
grateful queen and her people.”
Stunned beyond belief, Jamie stood and felt
the queen’s hand upon his arm. When he turned, the crowd burst into
cheering. For long minutes he acknowledged their applause. Then he
turned to where Lindsey had been standing with her father and
brothers. How proud he was to share this with her.
His heart fell. Her place was empty.
As soon as he could do so without undue
notice, he slipped away from the festivities.
* * *
The night air was cool, the darkened
courtyard deserted. It was the perfect place for Lindsey to hide
the tears that spilled from her eyes. She was overcome with
emotion.
Sir James Devin MacDonald. Jamie was now a
man of title and privilege. A legend among her people. And a legend
would never be satisfied with a mere Highland lass.
She had always been a foolish dreamer. But
now she must face reality, no matter how painful.
She had seen how easily Jamie slipped on the
mantle of authority. Now he would become part of the queen’s court
in Edinburgh, where beautiful women would vie for his
affection.
It mattered not, she consoled herself. He was
a cold man. Cold and cruel. Look how easily he had banished her.
And though they had been apart all these long days, he had greeted
her as though she were a stranger. Aye. He would have no difficulty
walking away from her again. Her mother had been right all those
years ago. The tears started afresh, and she was helpless to stop
them.
* * *
Jamie was grateful for the bite in the air.
He wanted nothing more than to walk off his frustration and to
think without interruption. As he walked, his hands balled into
fists at his sides.
This day had been the culmination of every
warrior’s dream. Knighthood. The leadership of a clan. A castle of
his own and lands enough for generations of MacDonalds to work and
rule. And yet it was all empty.
The lass who owned his heart had made it
plain that she would never forgive him for sending her away.
He cursed the fates that had brought them
together. His life before Lindsey had been uncomplicated. Now life
had lost its flavor. He would be well rid of this place. He needed
a new challenge.
With an angry oath he rounded the corner,
then stopped in mid-stride. A lone figure, wrapped in a hooded
cloak, stood alone staring at the towering peaks in the
distance.
She whirled at the sound of approaching
footsteps, and he felt his heart stop.
Lindsey swallowed, brushing away the
incriminating tears that clung to her lashes.
“Well, my lord.” She stiffened her spine as
he approached. “Your legend has grown. You must feel very proud.
Even my brothers boast to all who will listen that they fought
beside the Heartless MacDonald.”
He flinched, hating the name. “I do not know
what I feel. It has all happened too quickly.”
“When you return to Edinburgh, you will be
acclaimed a hero. You will surely have your choice of celebrations
to attend, my lord.” Not to mention, she thought dismally, his
choice of women.
“I will not tarry in Edinburgh. Mary now has
enough soldiers to assure her safety, thanks to your father’s
efforts.”
“You will journey to your new castle
then?”
Jamie glanced away, unable to look at her.
The sight of her beauty caused his heart to lodge in his throat.
With his gaze fastened on the moon he said, “It is expected of a
new laird. I will have to inspect my lands and get to know my
people.”
“You will want Wolf to accompany you to your
new home.”
“Wolf lives?” He turned to her with a look of
astonishment. By the gods, she had wrought a miracle, and all
because of her persistence.
“I thought my brothers would have told you.
Wolf awaits you in my chambers.”
“Your chambers? You have turned him into a
pet, my lady?”
Lindsey bristled, feeling her temper return.
“I did not force him. It was his choice. He is very content to walk
by my side, to eat from my hand and to sleep beside my bed.”
She had just described heaven. Jamie knew of
another who would be content with that, but he kept his silence and
turned away.
Slowly she turned to study his proud profile.
“Mayhap he tired of the battle and yearns for a life of ease.”
His voice roughened. “It is what all warriors
yearn for. But they fool themselves. The battles never end.”
He drew his cloak around him and began to
turn away.
“Aye. Especially if the warrior is the
Heartless MacDonald, who stirs battles wherever he goes.”
Jamie turned on her, his eyes blazing. “I
have told you how I hate that name. Why do you persist in trying to
goad me, my lady?”
Lindsey drew herself up to her full height
and faced him. “The name suits you. I cannot forget that you coldly
sent me away. You ordered me around as though I were a servant. You
shamed me in front of my family.”
His eyes darkened. Without thinking he caught
her roughly by the arms. “Shamed you? God in heaven, I wanted to
spare you any further pain. I sent you away because I could not
risk having you harmed. Why can you not accept that?”
Too late, he remembered the jolt that always
accompanied the mere touch of her. He felt it now, swift and
jarring. His fingers tightened, drawing her near.
“I will not stand here and allow you to shout
at me.” She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grasp and
dragged her roughly to him
“Damn you, woman. Why must you always fight
me?”
Lindsey struggled to push free of his arms.
“I will not be bullied by—”
“I had forgotten. There is only one way to
stop your curses.” His lips covered hers in a kiss, cutting off her
protest.
Each of them reacted as though they had been
struck by lightning. Fire raced through them, heating their
blood.
“God in heaven.” Jamie lifted his head and
framed her face with his hands, staring deeply into her eyes. “You
may think me a bully and a...”
“Son of a viper,” she added, watching his
lips draw closer.
“Aye.” Perhaps, he mused, he could perform a
miracle himself, if he but persisted. “Will you at least admit that
you missed me?” He brushed his lips over hers, feeling a wild
pulsing deep inside.
She could go on being kissed like this all
night. She had never forgotten the fire, or the needs that surfaced
each time he kissed her. “Aye, I did miss your kisses. Though at
times you are an overbearing brute. I missed the fighting.” She
parted her lips. “And the making up.”
With his lips a fraction above hers he
muttered, “Admit that you love me, Lindsey.”
She swallowed, anxious for his kiss. With a
little sigh she muttered, “Only if you say the words first.”
He brushed his lips lightly over hers and
felt the flames begin to lick along his spine. The miracle was
within his grasp. “I love you, Lindsey Gordon. With all my
heart.”
She moaned and drew him close. “And I love
you, Jamie MacDonald.”
With a laugh he lifted his head. He dared not
kiss her again. Not yet. He knew that this time, once the
floodgates were opened, there would be no stopping the outpouring
of passion he felt for her.
Suddenly grasping her hand, he began to run
toward the castle, forcing her to race by his side to keep up.
“Stop. Whatever are you doing?”
“You will see.”
When they reached the great room, he hauled
her along beside him as he searched among the guests until he came
to Douglas Gordon.
“I would have a word with you,” Jamie said,
interrupting Douglas and Brice as they talked with the queen.
Everyone looked up in surprise of his brusque behavior.
“Aye. What is it?” Douglas asked.
“I seek your permission to wed your
daughter.”
Douglas turned a startled gaze on his
daughter and saw, despite her breathlessness and disheveled
appearance, the dazed expression of love in her eyes. “Aye, Jamie.
I have long known how the two of you felt. You know I approve. But
why must we discuss this here, now?”
“Because the bishop is her to speak the
words. And the queen is here to give witness. And if truth be
told,” he added with a smile, “I do not wish to give your daughter
time to change her mind, my lord.”
Brice threw back his head and roared with
delight. “Spoken like a true strategist, Jamie lad.”
Mary clapped her hands in delight. “A wedding
tonight? Aye, I approve. In fact, it is as I had hoped when I
arranged that the two of you be thrown together. You know how I
love romantic entanglements.” She turned to the bishop. “What say
you, Excellency? Will you waive the banns and see the lad wed to
his true love?”
Pursing his lips, the bishop thought a
moment, then nodded gravely. “If you so command, Majesty, I will
see to it.”
“A gown,” the queen said, turning to Meredith
and her sisters. “Lindsey must be wed in a gown fit for such a
grand occasion.”
Amid much whispering and giggling, Meredith,
Brenna and Megan hauled Lindsey away to their chambers.
At Brice’s command, the servants began
preparing the chapel for a wedding. Wine flowed, and the guests
began eagerly awaiting the surprising ending to the queen’s
feast.
Jamie, for the moment, had been forgotten. He
slipped from the great hall. Like a caged panther he paced the
upper hall, waiting for a glimpse of his bride-to-be. Surely going
into battle was easier than this.
What were the women telling Lindsey? Perhaps
they were advising her against the match. Would they fill her head
with stories of the dangers of marriage to a warrior, or the
terrors of bearing his children?
When the sisters finally slipped from
Lindsey’s chambers, their faces were unreadable. They kissed
Jamie’s cheek, then went below stairs to join the others in the
chapel awaiting the arrival of the happy couple.
Staring at the closed door to Lindsey’s
chambers, Jamie could bear the waiting no longer. With a quick tap
he entered. For a moment he paused just inside the doorway. Lindsey
turned from the looking glass, and he caught his breath at the
sight of her.
She wore a gown of dazzling white shot with
silver threads. At her throat was a necklace of diamonds that
burned with the light of a thousand candles. Her hair was worn
loose, tumbling in a cascade of curls down her back, and entwined
with ivy and wildflowers.
On her face was a look so filled with love he
felt his heart stop.
“Oh, my lady,” he said, taking a tentative
step toward her: “You are so beautiful, words fail me.”
“And you, my handsome warrior, make my hands
tremble.”
He caught her hands in both of his and drew
her close. “I love you, Lindsey Gordon. More than my own life.”
“And I love you, Jamie MacDonald. For now,
for all time.”
He lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a
kiss to each palm. And then he gathered her into his arms and
brought his lips to her temple. The fire started, low and deep, and
slowly built until they were consumed by it.
“I cannot wait. You must kiss me.”
“I will not be ordered around like a
servant,” she muttered against his lips.
His words were warm with unspoken laughter.
“Aye, my love. I will learn not to shout orders like a—bully.” The
flames burned higher, until they were a raging inferno.
“Will we stay together even in battle?”
“We will ride together, and love together.
But as to battle, who knows what the fates have in store for us,
love.”
“But—”
His lips closed over hers, silencing her
protest. As he lingered over her lips his fingers found the buttons
of her gown, and he slipped it from her shoulders.
“Jamie. What are you doing? The queen awaits
us below stairs.”
“Aye,” he murmured against her lips. “We will
simply have to keep the queen waiting a little longer, love.”
They dropped to their knees, still clinging
fiercely to each other.
And as she drew him to her, Lindsey was
filled with so much love she feared her heart would explode. At
long last, her noble warrior had come to claim her for his bride.
But this was not some childish dream. As his lips and fingertips
moved over her, she knew that this was better than any dream. The
love they shared was true. And if she lived a hundred lifetimes,
she would never tire of the brave, noble warrior who had won her
heart.
With a sigh she gave herself up to the
miracle of love.