In Bed With A Stranger by Mary Wine
Chapter Fourteen
The bells rang near noon the next day. The riders approaching rode with the banners of the Earl of Warwickshire. Brodick boldly met the man on his own front steps. The older man didn’t lack any strength. He dismounted and yanked his riding gauntlets off with a snarl.
“Where’s that bitch I’m married to?”
His voice bounced off the walls. Everyone froze, never having heard the master of the house publicly curse his wife.
The earl looked up. “McJames, I owe you a great deal for ferreting out this scheme. I swear I’ll do right by the dowry.” He climbed the steps, stopping to offer his hand to Brodick.
Brodick stood for a moment, feeling the eyes of the estate on him. He clasped the man’s wrist and there was a mutter of approval from those watching.
“I suppose ye’ll nae be cross with me for locking yer wife and daughter up. I wanted to make sure they didnae manage any more mischief before ye arrived to deal with them.”
“I’d not have cared if you drowned them like the demon felines they are.”
“I’ll leave that task to you.” Brodick walked into the castle with the earl. They climbed the stairs to the mistresses’ chambers where two of Brodick’s men stood guard.
“But there is someone I’d like ye to meet first.” Brodick opened the door slowly, taking care that the hinges didn’t squeak. The Earl of Warwickshire followed him inside frowning when he faced Ivy.
His leman smiled as bright as summer. She lifted a hand and motioned him forward. “Come my dear and see our first grandchild.”
The color drained from his face but Brodick didn’t think the man weak. He understood.
“Anne has a babe?”
“My wife has given me a son.”
The earl suddenly smiled. He slapped a hand on Brodick’s shoulder that sent him forward a step.
“Well now, that’s grand news!”
Ivy shook a finger at him. “Hush. Anne needs her rest.”
“I’m not sleeping, Mother.” Anne shouldered her way through the curtain drawn across the doorway. She cradled her child, a soft smile curving her lips.
“Here Father, come and meet your grandson.”
Tears shimmered in her father’s eyes. Anne gently placed the baby in his arms. Brodick slid an arm around her waist, taking up some of her weight. She patted his hand reassuringly. “I am well.”
He didn’t listen. Her husband scooped her off her feet in one smooth motion. “I did warn ye that I intend to drive ye insane with my protective attitude.”
He carried her back to the bedchamber. Anne frowned at him when he settled her back into bed.
“I have never been idle.”
“And ye have never had a babe before either.”
Anne wanted to be cross but she looked past Brodick at her parents. The earl cradled her son while his forehead touched her mother’s. Joy radiated from them, warming the entire room. Her throat tightened and so did the arm Brodick had around her.
“Love is a beautiful thing, lass.” Brodick’s words were thick with emotion.
Her father turned to look at her, his gaze touching on the man that held her.
“Well now, Anne, my girl, you have made me proud.”
Her father walked into the room. He settled the baby back into her embrace.
“Young Brodick, I see you make a good husband for my daughter.”
“I intend to spend many a day trying, sir.”
Her father nodded. “Glad I am to hear it.”
No one would let her out of bed, so they spent the afternoon talking and getting to know the new baby. It wasn’t until the sun began to set that her father’s expression turned dark. He placed a kiss on Anne’s cheek.
“I must see to my wife.” His words were grave but sad as well. His body was tense as he left the room. Brodick followed.
The Earl of Warwickshire shoved open the door to the chamber where his wife and daughter were imprisoned.
“Philipa…”
The chamber was silent. Brodick scanned it, looking for the women. They were already in bed. Moving closer, he and the earl peered at the pair of unmoving forms. There was only a whisper of breath in them, the skin of their faces pasty white.
The earl touched Mary’s face, moving her eyelid up to look at her eye.
“Poison, if I’m not mistaken.” His voice had the unmistakable ring of familiarity with that evil vice of assassins and taunted lovers.
“Nae by my hand.” Brodick shook his head. “I’d have run them through and taken credit for my own deed.”
The earl looked pensive. “I believe you.” He searched the room, lifting the used goblets and sniffing them.
There was a cough from the bed. Mary opened her eyes. The earl walked toward her.
“Tell me, daughter, what ails you?”
Mary drew a deeper breath in order to speak.
“Mother got the hemlock…from the village…for Anne.” She sighed. “It was left on the table and…the…boy took it…by mistake…for our afternoon…wine.”
Her eyelids fluttered but she lifted them and stared at her father. Mary reached for his hand.
“It was not his…fault. Mother…plotted murder…and…I agreed…We have…reaped…what we…sowed.” Her fingers clutched at her father’s hand. “Forgive me. I repent…my…sins…please, Father…bury me in hallowed…ground…I…beg for your pardon…I repent…God have mercy…on me…”
Her voice trailed off as her eyes closed. The earl laid her hand on her chest, slowly shaking his head. He reached out to stroke a hand over her head.
“I’m sorry I failed you, child. I knew your mother was bitter but I didn’t think she’d turn you so spoilt. I thought her love for you would keep her sane. I was wrong. Forgive me, Daughter.”
Mary’s hand clutched at the bedding. She held it tight for a moment before her fingers went lax and her breathing grew soft once more. She never opened her eyes again. Her mother died before she did, but Mary followed before sunrise. The Earl of Warwickshire sat by their bed, slumped in his chair.
Ivy appeared at dawn. She stood in the doorway, the rising sun illuminating her. Henry Howard, fifth Earl of Warwickshire, stood up and went to her. A woman of common birth, she was the keeper of his heart. He took her hand and pressed a kiss onto it.
“Will you marry me, Ivy?” He squeezed her fingers. “Make an honest man of me and bring legitimacy to our children?”
“I will.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes but one fell down his cheek first. Tucking her hand onto his arm, he strode from the chamber leaving his blue-blood marriage behind.
“Get back in that bed, Anne.”
His wife scowled at him. Brodick sent her a stern look in return.
“I am going to my mother’s wedding, Brodick.”
And nothing was going to stop her. “For every time that I have heard the word bastard flung at me, I will crawl to church if I have to, Brodick.” Her entire body ached but she kept moving. She suddenly frowned.
“But I need some money to bribe the clergymen since I haven’t been churched yet. They won’t let me into the sanctuary.”
Brodick scowled. “This country has traditions that are insane.”
Anne grinned. “I suppose it is a good thing we plan to live in Scotland.”
He didn’t look amused by her words. “’Tis a good thing that all yer countrymen will be getting a Scots king. No allowing ye into church just because ye had a babe? What is the point of marriage, might I ask ye?”
Anne flinched when she bent over to pick up her shoes. Her husband swept her off her feet a moment later, placing her back on the foot of the bed. Brodick lowered his large body to one knee and slid her shoe into place himself.
“Och well, I can see why ye need to be there.”
He didn’t sound very contrite. But he placed the second shoe on her foot and helped her into her loose grown and surcoat.
“But no dancing.”
He turned to pick up their son. Brodick refused to allow the infant or herself out of his sight unless Druce or Cullen was with her. The man was keeping his promise to have her guarded but it wasn’t something she could become angry over. He did not trust Warwickshire and its staff. She could not blame him.
She took solace in his presence, enjoying every second of it. The burdens of life would steal him away soon enough. For now she would cling to his arm and watch her mother’s wedding. Ivy made the most beautiful bride Anne had ever seen. The reason was simple.
She was in love.
Be it curse or blessing, Anne did not know. But she suffered the same affliction, cheerfully following in her mother’s example. Brodick held her heart and if fate was kind, she would never cease loving him.
Never.
