Love Letters from Largs: Brodie and Celestina (Highlander Clan Grant Series Book 3) (17 page)

And now she would fight for her husband, Brodie.

Chapter Eighteen

Surprises

Over a sennight later,
Brodie lingered under an old oak tree outside the royal castle, hoping to see his brother, Robbie. Word had it the Highlanders would return after successfully sending the pillaging Norwegian men back onto their ships. Envoys from the Scottish king had been sent to King Haakon for peace talks. Now King Alexander III had called a meeting of his sergeants and chieftains to update them on the status of the supposed negotiations.

Brodie
hoped things would settle down so he could retrieve his wife and head back to his clan in the Highlands. He had only decided to leave Celestina at her father’s house in Lennox for three reasons. One was Nicol had found out that while she was imprisoned, she was unharmed. The second was the king would hang him by his bollocks if he left Ayr with a fleet of Norse ships not far down the Firth of Clyde. The third reason was Fredrik Ivarsson remained in Ayr. Brodie didn’t trust the man and hoped to catch him at something, but he couldn’t do it if he was out of town. Traitors were hanged, and he could not think of a better ending for Ivarsson’s churlish life.

He didn’t see Robbie, but his gaze caught the flowing robes of a
priest as he walked toward the gate. Brodie ran down the path and caught Father Padraig before he could enter the castle.

“Father Padraig! May I talk with you a moment?”

“Of course, my son. How can I help you?”

“Father, a source has
informed me of a traitor in the royal burgh. He was seen speaking with a Blackfriar. The man is no’ to be trusted, and I wondered if you had any idea who the rapscallion could be.”

“Nay, I can no’ help you
, Brodie. I have no idea since we have so many Blackfriars here. Many are involved in the negotiations with the Norsemen. A traitor, you say?”

“
Aye, and I was hoping you could tell me it was Fredrik Ivarsson.”

“Still
taken with our lass?” Father grinned and winked at Brodie.

Brodie fidgeted before he spoke. He had to trust a
priest of the Celtic Church; he was a man of the cloth, a Culdee, which was one of the most respected professions in the Highlands. He also clearly had a special relationship with Celestina. “Father, I love Celestina, and she feels the same. We…um….handfasted the night before her marriage to Ivarsson. I know Ivarsson is no good. He beats her, and I need to get her away from him and bring her home to my clan. I do no’ care about any official script that says she is his wife. She is no’ his, she is mine. And I mean to claim her soon.”

“Och, lad,” he reached inside his robe and pulled out a piece of parchment, “do you mean this
script?”

Brodie took the deed and stared at it.
Baron Lunde had signed it and so had Ivarsson, but it made no sense. It was in Latin and Gaelic, his language, but the Gaelic words were nonsense words, not a declaration of marriage. He stared at Father Padraig.

“This
part is in Gaelic, Father. And it states nothing.” He shook his head in confusion.

“Och, I know that
, and you know that because we both speak Gaelic, but neither Celestina nor Ivarsson know it.” Father Padraig broke out in a huge grin. “Och, lad, do no’ look so surprised. The wealth and the galleys had to pass hands. I needed to make the king happy, but I did no’ need to ruin two young people’s lives, now, did I?”

Brodie hugged the
Culdee priest and chuckled. “They are no’ married, is that no’ right, Father? ‘Tis what you are telling me?”

“Och, you tell me.
Tha am pòsadh sin an aghnaidh an fhacal Dhè
. Those were my last words at Ivarsson’s wedding to Celestina.” Father stared at him, one eyebrow quirked as he waited for Brodie to translate.

“This marriage is no’ legal in the eyes of God? Am I no’ correct, Father Padraig?” Brodie stared, unable to believe what the priest was telling him. Celestina was not married to
Fredrik Ivarsson after all!

“You have it right, my friend. ‘
Tis exactly what I said at the end of that foolish ceremony. Unfortunately, the lass did have to stomach the kiss, but I have worked verra hard to prevent aught else from happening.”

Father’s smug expression told him all he needed to know. He grabbed the
priest’s arms, wanting to hug him again, but he wasn’t sure if it was quite appropriate. She was free!

“Aye, they are no’ married. I am a guardian of sorts to Celestina, and I could no
’ in good conscience allow her to marry that cur. I still keep track of where she is, and I realize you can no’, but do no’ worry overmuch about her. She will be there for you when the Scottish are no’ at war, but until then, you need to fight for your beloved country and your clan.”

Brodie
nodded, ecstatic with the news. He and Celestina could be legally married as soon as this war was over.

“Lad, I’ll take that parchment back, if you would. I may have need of it later. There is something else you need to know.” Father Padraig searched the area to be sure they would not be overheard as he tucked the
deed back into his frock.

“Aye, Father?”

“Baron Walter Lunde is not her real father.”

“What?
” Brodie was speechless. The implication of this news was almost too much for him to handle on top of the revelation about Ivarsson. “How do you know this, Father?”

“Trust me, my son. I know.”

“Is Celestina aware?” The bastard that beat her was not her father?

“Nay, she does not know yet. But there is more.” Father paused as he stared at Brodie
. After a long moment, he heaved out a sigh. “I trust you to keep this information private.”

“Aye, Father, you have my word of honor as a Grant. What is it?”

“Celestina’s father is Scottish and still lives. He wants to meet her.”

“I do no’ know what to say. Should
it not be her choice, though? Still, I think I know what she will say.”

“There’s more. Her mother still lives as well. When this war is over, you will have to allow her to meet her parents. The child needs to step out of the horrific life she has lived
with Baron Lunde and get to know her true blood family. There is much to explain, but that can wait. I need you to promise me you will see this through for her. Do I have your word of honor as a Grant that you will no’ speak a word of this to her until I give you permission?”

“Aye, you have my word.” Brodie
knew how much it would hurt her to find out he had kept such information secret, but what choice did he have?

“And do I have your pledge that you will do whatever is necessary to see
that Celestina is reunited with her true parents?”

Brodie nodded, “Aye.”
It was a man of the cloth who posed these questions to him. He had no choice but to respect his wishes.

“
One last thing, my son.” Father Padraig placed his hand on Brodie’s shoulder. “I thank you for all you have done for my niece. I am her uncle.”

Brodie stared at the priest. Of course, it made perfect sense; he just wasn’t quite ready to
process it all.

Father Padraig chuckled. “I see I have given you enough information for one day.
All right, let’s go inside, lad, and see what update the king has for those of us still in the village. I do appreciate these open meetings. Please do no’ fret so. Her heart is in your hands.”

The priest and the warrior
silently strode down the castle walkway together and stepped inside. As they were ushered into the solar, Brodie was still massaging his brow in an attempt to process everything he had just discovered. He was ecstatic that she was not married to Ivarsson, but a new worry niggled at him. If she knew her mother and father were alive, would she still come to him willingly as his wife, or would she choose to stay with her parents?

King Alexander the III entered along with Alexander of Dundonald. They stood together, but the king spoke first. “King Haakon of Norway has gained Rothesay Castle on Bute and is demanding that his overlordship of th
at island along with many other of the Western Isles be recognized in a formal treaty. I will never sign such a document. We have spent several weeks sending Blackfriar envoys back and forth through the Firth to negotiate with no success. He will not release any of our Isles and I am no longer willing to recognize his power over them.

“I suspect
Haakon still plans to send ships our way. I have delayed negotiations as long as possible, but it is almost the end of September, and I doubt he will wait much longer. I am hoping that a few of our wonderful Scottish gales will swoop in at just the right time and plow a few of his galleons under, but only the lord knows if that will happen. He presently has his fleet anchored off Arran, and has taken over several castles there, but I suspect he will send a crew of ships straight for the royal burgh. The Highlanders are on their way back to us and will stand to protect all of Ayrshire; we just are not sure exactly where the longboats will land. We must be alert for any movement in the area.

“Gentlemen, prepare for war and prepare for the worst.
The Norwegians are on their way.”

***

A fortnight after finding her mother’s letters, Celestina paced in her chamber. Early dawn was her favorite time as this was when the memories of her mother’s puttering in the small room were strongest. She had reviewed everything in the letters one more time. The truth freed her spirit in ways he would never understand. Now she understood why her unrelenting quest to please her father had fallen on deaf ears.

S
he was in almost the same position her mother had been in all those years ago, she had belabored the issue with no quick resolution. In her heart, she knew Brodie was the kind of man her mother would have wanted her to marry. He was gentle, kind, tender, and yet strong. Always loving and protective, he was a man to admire. And now that she knew she was Scottish, the handfasting ceremony had even more significance for her.

Soon, the reckoning would take place. Fredrik
Ivarsson would come to claim his marital rites. After much consternation, her conscience and her faith would only allow her to do one thing.

Fight. She would fight
Fredrik. Inga had told her a marriage could be dissolved if the bedding never took place, so she had to make sure it never happened. Her resolve was ironclad, and the knowledge her mother and her real father had adored her increased her strength.

She would fight for her true love, Brodie Grant, in the hopes they would
someday be able to share the life her mother had wished for her –living in the glory of their love and sharing that love with their bairns.

Celestina
had not seen the baron much since arriving at the castle, and fortunately, Fredrik had stayed away. Her only source of information about the escalating conflict was Inga. The last update was that the negotiations between Scotland and Norway had failed and King Haakon, anchored off Arran, had sent a fleet of ships toward Ayr and the royal burgh. Since she was so far away from Ayr, Celestina had no idea how long it would be before she saw Brodie again. She prayed daily for his safe keeping along with his brother and Loki. She missed the wee sprite but was comforted to know he was by Brodie’s side.

When Celestina
finished her ablutions, she dressed in her plain wool kirtle. There was a time when the blue had been pretty, but now it was faded. She was hardly dressed like a wealthy man’s wife, but she didn’t care. The only thing she wished to wear was her husband’s beautiful red plaid.

She had just finished securing her mother’s letter near her heart when the door flew open. The baron stood in front of her, gasping for breath.

“They’re coming,” he panted.

“Who?”
She did not like the fear frozen in the baron’s features.

“The
Norwegians! Savage men bent on killing women and children. They are plundering villages near the coastline. We are fortunate to be so far inland. Hopefully, they will remain at bay and leave us in peace.”

“What will we do?” Her hands flew to her throat at the thought of Brodie fighting such creatures. He had to survive
; he had to return to her.

“We will hide our valuables since they are
resorting to thievery. Ivarsson is on his way here, presumably to stay out of their way. I expect his arrival today. Make yourself ready for your husband.”

And with that, t
he baron slammed the door and turned the key in the lock.

Chapter Nineteen

The Battles Begin

The meeting of the sergeants in the great hall at the royal castle had just begun. Brodie’s mind spun as he listened to the Sheriff of Ayr say, “Be prepared. The galleys have been spotted. We expect them here at Ayr midday.” Tension was growing after Walter Stewart’s declaration; he could sense the strain in his comrades.

“Sheriff, where are all the Highland
Warriors?” one of the sergeants asked. “Were they no’ to return to protect the royal burgh before the Norse came? We can protect the castle—” his hand swept across the hall of over one hundred sergeants, many newly hired by the king, “—but what of the rest of Ayrshire?”

Many of the group nodded their agreement. The sheriff responded
by waving his hands in front of him defensively. “The Grant warriors are returning, as are the Boyd and the Montgomery warriors. Grant is sending more warriors along with his armored horse, and the Campbell and Cameron are on their way. We have the burgh militia, as well. Remember your post is at this castle and on these grounds, protecting your king. That includes you, Grant.”

Brodie nodded in agreement, wondering where his brother was and if he
had truly survived as the reports had indicated. He had expected his return by now. “How many men have we lost?” He had to know.

“Not as many as the
Norse, but they only had a few ships on shore. Half of their fleet still sits near Arran. If they all head to shore, we could be in trouble.” His voice ended in a whisper. “But remember, all of you are to stay here at the castle. That’s all for now. Stand strong at your posts.”

As they started to move out of the
great hall, a young lad darted into the room, gasping for air. “Your pardon, Sheriff.”

“Out with it, lad.”
The group waited for the update of the Norse travel.

“Word has it the ships have gone in different directions. The ones headed this way should be here in a couple of hours. Many are heading north.
”

Sheriff turned to his group. “
Find your gear, sergeants. Prepare to defend your king.”

Brodie could hardly believe t
he lad’s words. He stepped into the sunshine and bellowed for Nicol. His friend ran in from outside the castle gates, Loki close on his heels. “Grant, is it true? The Norse will be here by midday?”

“Nay, they’ll be here sooner. Get my gear.” He turned to the young lad whose eyes were big as saucers. “Loki, you will do your first chore as a squire and help me dress.”

Loki let out a whoop as he scrambled behind Nicol, his legs uncommonly fast. The boy’s enthusiasm made Brodie chuckle, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do with the lad when the fighting started.

Nicol returned
his young shadow. “Master Brodie, this gear is heavy,” the wee lad said with a whistle. “How do you wear it?”

When
Loki dropped the gear at his feet, Brodie reached over to ruffle his hair. “’Tis why warriors need to train so in the lists. We have to learn to fight with all that extra weight on us. Now, pay attention to Nicol and help him out.”

Nicol handed
a garment to the boy. “You help him with his leggings, and I will get his doublet on him.” While the wee one tried his hardest to help Brodie on with the leggings, Nicol lifted the quilted doublet over his head. Next came his hauberk of chainmail, then leather tunic bearing the Grant family crest—three crowns topped with the words, “Stand Fast.”

After
helping Brodie with the cuisses for his thighs and the padding for his arms, Nicol placed the chainmail coif over his head. Loki tried valiantly to lift the helm, but Brodie laughed and said, “Never you mind, lad. I do no’ need that just yet.”

Brodie paced the small area to get everything adjusted the way he liked it.

“What are you doing, Master Brodie?” Loki stared up at him, his eyes in awe of the familiar man now covered in metal.

“Making sure my arms are free to be able to handle my sword, wee one.”

“I am no’ a wee one. Do no’ call me such.” He scowled as he said it, and Brodie had to squelch a smile.

“Nay, lad, you are as brave as any Grant warrior I know.
You are to stay with Nicol during the fighting. Are we clear on that?”

“Aye
. Look, we are faster than the rest, Master Brodie,” he pointed to the grounds around the castle where many others struggled with the heavy gear. “We won.”

After Nicol fetched his destrier from the stables,
Brodie mounted the horse and took him for a brief canter outside the castle gates. As he moved about the small village, he noticed an eerie quiet. The people had gone inside, which he was glad to see, but something about the quiet seemed wrong.

An hour later,
he was still wandering the area around the castle when the bellow of a town crier echoed down the road toward him. He followed the voice until he could make out the man’s words. “They went the other way! ‘Twas a feint. We’re not being attacked. Over twenty ships have been seen heading north of Arran. None are heading south.”

Brodie
spurred his horse and galloped over to the messenger. “Where? Where were the galleys seen? Where are they headed?”

“
The ships were seen near the island of Great Cumbrae by Largs, my lord. They were headed up the firth toward Loch Lomond.”

Total mayhem broke out in Ayr
as cheers erupted from all the village folk who had awaited the attack in their homes. Peasants crowded the roads hugging their loved ones, patting his horse in glee, but Brodie wasn’t celebrating.

The ships were headed straight for his wife.

***

Celestina jerked when she heard the front door slam. Inga
had been sent to the village market to pick up food stuffs. She was alone in the house with the baron. Male voices argued at the base of the stairs, and she started to walk in circles, almost tripping over the sack she had ready in case Brodie ever came for her. Her worst fear was here; the one person she dreaded most had finally arrived—Fredrik Ivarsson.

After a time, h
er door swung open and there he was in the doorway, Aldrik directly behind him. “Well, if it isn’t my pretty little wife.” He sauntered her way with a sly grin on his face. “Aren’t you happy to see my, my dear? Where is my warm welcome from my loving wife?” He stopped in front of her and ran his finger up her jaw line before grabbing her plaited hair and jerking her head back. “You don’t look very happy. I guess I will have to see what I can do to make you smile.” He winked at her as he sneered.

The baron blocked the doorway. “
Are you mad? It is as I told you, the Norse are plundering their way up the firth. They will be here in no time. We have to hide. Where can we go?”

Fredrik released her and twirled to face
Baron Lunde. “Shut up, old man. The Norse will not bother us. I made sure of it.”

“What?”
The baron’s puzzled look told her he didn’t know any more than she did.

Fredrik’s hands settled on his hip
s as he strode toward the older man. “Because I told them where my wife was hidden. They have vowed to stay clear of your keep.”

The
baron’s shocked expression caused Fredrik to smile. “You thought I really intended to waste my life as a Scot? I am nobility in Norseland. I am here for one reason only—to make myself rich. I told King Haakon where the most riches were to be found in this pathetic area. He and his men will have plenty of time to rob all of Lennox while I finally indulge in a sweet taste of my wife.” He glanced over his shoulder and winked at his wife. “I do so look forward to taking you.”

He shrugged out of his overcoat before waving at the door. “Baron, leave us. I have needs that I
must be met before my wife and I join my countrymen on their ships.”

“You’re a traitor? You traded Scot
tish secrets for money?” The baron did not budge from the doorway, seemingly too stunned at the turn of events to even move.

“Someday you will learn, fool. Anytime there is a war or a battle, there
are plenty of riches to be made, but only by those who are intelligent enough not to get caught.” He took his eyes off Celestina for a moment to stare at the baron. “And I am one of those men. I had something to offer the Norse, my countrymen, and I will be paid very handsomely for it. Now, get out, old man. I have serious business to attend—my beautiful wife—and I don’t have much time.”

Celestina’s head spun as
Ivarsson’s words sunk in. Dizziness threatened to topple her to the floor, but she fought to stay on her feet. He had just given her even more reason to fight. She was half Scottish, and she would neither leave her homeland nor her true husband.

The baron backed out of the room and just before the door closed,
Fredrik yelled after him. “And I am not to be disturbed. Expect to hear your daughter scream, but do not attempt to interrupt us or I will kill you.”

Celestina heard the tiny click of the latch when the door shut
, leaving her, Fredrik, and Aldrik inside. Fredrik turned to face her. “Now, my dear, let’s get on with this. I have certain rights as your husband, and I mean to take them now. Don’t worry about Aldrik, he likes to watch.”

Fredrik
undid the buttons of his shirt. His hairy chest glistened with sweat over his flat belly. Celestina could smell him from across the room. Nausea roiled in her belly, and her pulse pounded in her head hard enough to make it explode. She could do this. She would fight and survive for Brodie, for Loki, and for her mother and father, rest their souls. She knew they were watching over her and would protect her. She said a silent prayer to God and to the angels above to be with her in this moment.

She wiped the sweat from her hands on her wool gown as
he strolled toward her.

“Remove your gown, Celestina. I want to see you before I take you.”

Celestina neither answered nor moved.

“Do as you are told, wife!”

His bellow did not intimidate her as he’d intended; she would remain strong. Celestina summoned all the courage she possessed and whispered, “Nay.”

Fredrik froze.
He turned to Aldrik with a grin on his face before pivoting back to her and stepping toward her. “I think I must be mistaken. Repeat what you just said, Celestina.”

She cleared her throat before repeating herself.
“Nay.”

Directly in front of her now, h
e leaned down and whispered into her face, “Did I just hear you refuse your husband?”

Celestina lifted her gaze
to meet his. She would not back down now. He would have to beat her to have his way with her.

“One more time
, please. I just can’t believe you have this feistiness in you. His head tipped to the side as if in pain.

“Nay, I said, nay. I will not undress for you. You are not my
true husband.” Celestina swallowed the bile rising from her belly. She had no idea how he would react, but she was smart enough to watch for the swing of his dominant arm.

“Aldrik.
Did you just hear what my wife said?” He turned to his cohort. “My wife just refused me. I cannot believe it, but I think she did.” He smiled at Aldrik, who chuckled.

Fredrik
gripped her arms and crushed her mouth with his, biting her lip so she would open to him. His saliva made her gag and he ended the kiss. He gave her a look of sheer loathing and slapped her. “Aldrik, I believe I need your assistance with something. We need to teach my wife how to obey her husband.”

Her face burned, but she refused to
relent. This was the new Celestina, a lass who would fight for herself, who would make her husband and her parents proud. She met Fredrik’s icy glare with a look of disgust. She would not submit.

Creeping up behind her,
Aldrik settled his hands on her shoulders.

Fredrik
barked, “Kneel, wife.”

She
could not fight Aldrik’s pressure on her shoulders. One leg buckled, but she kept the other locked.

“I said, kneel!” Aldrik forced her
down. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she fought them with every ounce of strength within her.

Once she was k
neeling in front of Fredrik, Aldrik’s knees locked around her shoulders from behind. She screamed in the hopes that Baron Lunde would feel compelled to help out of some small ounce of decency, but to no avail. Ivarsson reached into his pants, pulled his jutting member out and stroked himself as he moved closer to her.

Brodie’s
instructions held firm in her mind. She hadn’t really comprehended his meaning at the time, but she did now. She waited until Fredrik was closer, then wrenched her arm from Aldrik and crushed Fredrik’s scrotum with all the strength she had. The surprise forced Aldrik to release her for an instant, and she swung her elbow back and caught him square in the groin. Both men howled and fell to the ground and while they were incapacitated, Celestina grabbed her cloak and sack and ran out of the room and down the stairs.