Chapter Eleven #4
“Still not enough time has passed.”
Mary groaned long and loudly. Philipa rubbed her forehead. She was sick unto death of the demands of men, no longer caring if the church preached that it was her place to shoulder such. Mary huffed and sat in a puddle of wool skirts, her expression unhappy.
“Don’t fret, my lamb. We’ve almost bested this marriage your father negotiated. A few weeks more is all.”
“What if Anne isn’t with child?”
Philipa frowned. “She had better be.”
She had better be.
Philipa felt her temper heat. Oh, she would enjoy letting her wrath fall on Ivy Copper and her litter of bastards.
She’d wanted to drown them all the day they were birthed.
Anne had better be with child. A son. She didn’t dare risk leaving the girl with the Scots household too long.
Servants talked. Even when you whipped them.
Philipa sighed. It was certainly difficult to make it through life’s hurdles.
She would just have to endure like her daughter for a few weeks more.
She frowned, considering how long Anne had been treated as the mistress of a house.
It was possible the bastard might forget her place.
Even the threat against her family might lose its sharp edge when she was safe and pampered so far from Warwickshire.
Something would have to be done about that. Something to drive it deep into her heart. Philipa paced, considering her methods.
Yes…something very frightening to a girl.
Sterling, one month later
Surcoats were evil.
Anne snarled as she tripped on the edge of her loose gown.
Grabbing two handfuls of the fabric, she lifted it out of the way of her feet.
Now that her belly was swelling large, she could not wear her skirts.
Without a waistband, the fabric puddled on the ground every time she bent over, even a little bit.
It was frustrating because she felt wonderful and didn’t want to be slowed down by the loose garments needed for her ripening figure.
“Get on the other side of the flock, Ginny. Hurry.”
Anne ran the opposite way, flapping her surcoat in the wind to get the geese into the pens.
It was time to wash them and remove the thick down that had grown over the winter.
Now that it was full summer, the feathers could be thinned.
There would be enough time for it to grow back before winter returned.
Anne ran and headed off a large gander. The animal honked at her, flapping his wings.
“Get on with you. I want a down comforter to keep me warm. You will never miss the feathers, I promise.” Raising her hands, she sent the bird back toward the pens on the riverbank. Water made it much easier to remove part of the down.
Her baby kicked. Anne lowered her arms to softly stroke her rounded tummy.
She was as ripe as a fall pumpkin, her child pushing her womb out.
The bells began to ring. Her heart accelerated as she looked toward Sterling.
A cloud of dust was rising on the road and she peered at it, willing her husband to ride out of it.
“Mistress, ye need to get within the castle walls.”
One of the captains was always with her when she left Sterling. Anne looked up to see the man frowning at the approaching riders.
“Forgive me, ma’am, but we needs to go now.”
There was a solid ring of duty in his voice that didn’t hint at any argument from her.
He reached for her hand and helped her into the cart the man insisted she ride in.
Her mare having been denied her the second Helen told all at Sterling that she was with child.
Ginny and the others were left to deal with the geese.
But for her, she was returned to Sterling in haste.
Brodick had kept his promise to have her accompanied anytime she left the imposing walls.
They rode through the gate well before the riders reached them.
Helen stood on the steps waiting for her.
“There ye be, ma’am.”
“Is it the earl returning?” Her voice was full of anticipation.
Helen shook her head. “The lord doesnae have the bells rung on his return. He claims ’tis an honor he has yet to earn.”
A shiver went down her spine. Her babe kicked hard as she lifted her chin and watched the gate.
The riders drew in close enough to see and the banner of Warwickshire flapped boldly in the afternoon sun.
Horror flooded her, stealing her breath as they filled the inner yard.
But the worst was yet to come. The man leading them yanked his helmet free and shook out his long hair.
It was a face that she wished she might forget.
Cameron Yeoman was an evil man. One of a handful of men Philipa employed to keep the staff in hand at Warwickshire, the man often gained compliance with his brute strength.
He flashed a sneer at her, his gaze settling on her distended belly.
The tip of his tongue appeared on his lower lip, swiping back and forth across it a few times.
“Good day to you, ma’am. Your Mother, Philipa, sends her greetings.”
Anne paled. She felt the blood draining from her face. Cameron waved a horse forward and she heard a faint tinkling of laughter. Her sister Bonnie rode confidently up beside Philipa’s strong man. Her cheeks were red, a haunted look in her eyes.
“I brought you a letter. The mistress commanded me to bring it to you.”
Anne moved down the steps as fast as possible with her belly so large, unable to see her sweet sister so close to such a monster.
More than one maid at Warwickshire had suffered his rape.
The man was a monster, often beating a girl even after she bent to his will.
Bonnie reached into a leather pouch and pulled a folded parchment out.
She shuddered but hid it almost in the same moment that it shook her slight frame.
Anne took the letter, but was more intent on getting her sister away from her escort. Cameron stared at her belly, a twisted smile on his lips.
“Dismount, Bonnie.”
“Hold.” Cameron held up a hand. Bonnie flinched but froze with her hands tight around the saddle horn.
Captain Murry, charged with her protection outside the gates, had shifted away, leaving her at the mercy of her visitors.
Work was resuming around them. Even Helen had joined several women working on washing wool.
Everyone seemed to be granting her privacy to talk to her guests, thinking it a kindness.
Cameron swung a leg over the head of his horse. He moved close enough to keep his words between them.
“Your sister stays on that mare.” He reached into his leather doublet to pull another letter from it. His smile grew. “This is a proxy marriage, giving me full rights to your sweet sister. You can say anything you wish but no man in this castle will deny me the rights to my wife.”
“No…She’s but fifteen.”
“Aye, you heard correctly. I confess that I like the young ones best.” Depravity danced in his eyes. He licked his lower lip, enjoying the horror the gesture bred in her.
“Find a way to take a ride with me and leave your guardians behind or I’m going to enjoy the trip back to Warwickshire. Your sister won’t.” He sniffed. “But every wench has to learn to take a man inside her at some point.”
“I think I shall just have you thrown out like the filth you are, while keeping my sister safely at my side.”
Cameron raised an eyebrow at her. “Maybe you’d better read that letter in your hand before you open your mouth.
I really don’t care. Your sister is mine if you choose to stay.
You can’t keep me locked away forever, and slapping me in shackles won’t dissolve my marriage.
My men are really looking forward to getting to watch me consummate it. I might even share.”
Anne ripped the seal open. She didn’t want to read Philipa’s words, didn’t want to give the woman any of her time ever again. But seeing Bonnie in his care was too much. She could not abandon her to Cameron. He’d do it, all of it and more.
“Your brothers will be sailing for the New World if you don’t return with me.”
That was a death sentence. All of the brave men and women who had set out to found Roanoke had disappeared, their fate unknown in the vast wilderness that was Virginia.
But the Privy council was determined to see an English colony in the new world.
They sent ships every few years, and few of them returned.
The letter in her hands confirmed Cameron’s words but it went on snagging her attention.
Do you really believe that your child will be welcomed any more than you are at Warwickshire?
Return and let your babe be accepted as Mary’s.
The world will see the child as legitimate.
It’s a gift that will see him enjoying all of the comforts that you have sampled as the mistress of Sterling.
Think about that before hiding behind the Scottish border.
Philipa was horrible, but she wrote the truth. Even if Brodick did not cast her out, her child would bear the stain of being born bastard.
It didn’t have to be.
She trembled, rubbing her belly with a soothing hand. Her throat had tightened, making it difficult to breathe. Anne forced the lump down. She had to do the best for her baby. The innocent growing inside her could be as respected as his father or as scorned as she.
She could not place her own life above her child’s. There could be no joy in her heart if she knew her happiness was purchased through the sufferings of her siblings.
“There is a valley below the castle, out of sight of the walls. Wait for me there.”
Cameron grunted, but Anne stepped away from him, not wanting to hear anything else he had to say. Climbing the steps, she lifted her chin.
“I am sorry to hear that you cannot stay for supper. Thank you for your service in bringing Bonnie to me.”
Cameron scowled but covered his displeasure when Helen moved up beside her.
“The young miss is staying?”
“Indeed she is. Captain Murry, will you help her dismount?”