The Thistle and the Rose Page 23

  “In a very short time, his success at sea became a profitable business for everyone. Henry's treasury began to fill up with Spanish bullion, and your father took his share of the booty and established a legitimate shipping business. Needless to say, his trading ships were the best protected on the high seas. But he also continued to raid foreign ships that he came across in English waters. And his fearlessness was legendary.

  “By now, your father's extensive wealth was no secret to anyone. He had lands in England and a fleet of ships that exceeded King Henry's. So when he met and decided to marry your mother, the daughter of a Scottish knight and a descendant of Robert the Bruce, his family objected, and later on so did King Henry. It wasn't enough that he'd filled all their pockets—they all wanted a hand in choosing his wife. Marriage is business to a lot of families, in England and in Scotland.

  “They were all upset about him marrying a Scottish woman. His haughty York family saw it as a union that was beneath them because it was with a Scot, however noble, and Henry saw it as a threat to his control of Muir's loyalties. They all wanted to be sure that they could control the heir...and the fortune.

  “But your father fought them all. He married your mother, and he never forgot the way they snubbed her.

  “And he loved her. Legend has it that before they married, he went to the Sultan of the Ottomans and bought the largest sapphires in the world for her. They say she wore them in a pendant around her neck.

  “Later, when Edmund brought us together, John Muir was in control of his own destiny. He was powerful enough to ignore Henry's directions when it suited him—he felt no loyalties to either his king or his own family. Your mother had passed away by then, but your father still trusted none of them. I suppose that's why he kept you with him for all those years. I'm sure he feared for your life, and how they would use you for their own purposes if they ever got their hands on you.

  “And you should know this, Celia. Your father was an honorable man. We met and divided the Irish Sea because he felt that fighting the Scottish was like fighting the only kin that he still cared for. Henry had been right. Your father's loyalties were divided because of his love for your mother...and for you.

  “Your father and I liked each other immediately and kept track of each other until his death. He was an honest man, and he never broke our agreement, even though his power on the west coast grew with every passing year.”

  Lord Hugh looked at Celia with affection in his eyes. He knew that if John were alive today, he would be very proud of his daughter and the woman she had become.

  “Your father died in England,” Hugh said. “How is it you came to be a member of the Scottish court?”

  “Things were too quiet for her in England,” a voice growled from the other side of the fountain.

  Colin had come up from the village where he'd been directing preparations for defending the town. When Runt had approached him in the South Hall with word of Lord Hugh's whereabouts, Colin's eyes had widened in disbelief. This was a sight he'd never imagined he'd see again in his lifetime, and something warmed in him at the thought of it.

  Entering the garden, Colin had walked past Ellen and Kit to where Celia and Hugh sat talking as comfortably as old friends. His father seemed so at ease there that Colin was hesitant to interrupt.

  Lord Hugh started at the sound of Colin's voice. Celia had seen him come into the garden and sit quietly as his father spoke. She had a feeling that Colin knew all that Hugh had related.

  “After my father died,” Celia answered, loud enough for Colin to hear. “The English king claimed me as ward of the court so that he could seize my father's ships and lands to use to his own profit until I married. When I went to that dreary court, I had nobody.”

  “Where was Edmund?” Colin asked.

  “He went to King James for me because he knew, before I did, that my fate had been decided.”

  Celia gazed into the empty fountain.

  “That court was a dismal place. Everyone knew that the old king was dying. He had spent years trying to secure his crown and build up his treasury. By the time I got there, he was a sick old miser, and the court reflected it.

  “I had grown up in the fresh air, with men of action for my companions. Now, I was stuck in drawing rooms with women who treated me like a freak. They tortured me with empty-headed tasks that they said I needed to learn to be a good wife. They were intent on teaching me things I had no interest in learning.

  “Then, one day, I was introduced to my intended husband, a soldier that the king intended to reward with a wife and her fortune.”

  Celia looked across the fountain at Colin.

  “Lord Danvers,” she said distinctly. “He was a cruel, rude, repulsive man even then. I hated him from the moment I met him. I knew I had to get away, so I went to the only people I had at court. The Yorks.

  “I still remember their harshness. They told me that I had to return and marry Danvers. That I was lucky the king was giving me to someone as highly placed as Danvers was. That I should feel privileged that he would even want a tomboy who was `half Scotch' besides. They sent me back to my keepers, but at least I finally knew for myself why my father hated them.

  “I returned to court, but I was miserable, and I made life miserable for everyone I came in contact with. For six long months I was at that court.

  “Then, Edmund came back. He had asked King James to make some kind of a deal for me. King Henry's daughter, Margaret, had been the Queen of Scotland for five years, and I was to join her entourage for a year before my marriage to Danvers.”

  Celia smiled grimly at the memory. “They were so glad to get rid of me. I suppose they thought a year in a `wild' place like Scotland would make me appreciate the English court more. Edmund said that King Henry agreed only because he got to keep reaping the rewards of my father's wealth for another year.”

  “Weren't they afraid that you wouldn't return?” Hugh asked.

  “Danvers was. But he was the only one. They were sure that I would return, since everything I owned was in King Henry’s hands until I married Danvers.

  “During that first year that I was with Queen Margaret in Scotland, King Henry died and his son, the new King Henry, succeeded. And as you know, he and King James never agreed on anything till the day James died at Flodden. So I never went back.

  “Even though Queen Margaret's ready to send me to England to be married now, my understanding is that her brother, King Henry, doesn't really care if I go back or not. He has everything my father intended for me, and is in no great hurry to part with any of it. Danvers, however, has been pursuing my fortune for six years. He even came to Edinburgh two years ago as a special envoy for his king, but he was really there for me.”

  Celia turned to Colin.

  “That ferret-faced Englishman at Argyll's castle. He was Danvers's right hand man when he came to the Stewart court.”

  Celia looked back at Lord Hugh.

  “I never found out, though, why King James went out of his way to take me in. He had nothing to gain by it.”

  Hugh smiled knowingly at her. “Take my word for it, lass. James had a reason for everything. And I'm sure that when the time is right, Edmund will tell you.”

  Hugh stood and took in once more the neglected sight around him.

  “Colin,” he thundered “is this what you call a garden? You need a woman's hand in your life, my boy.”

  “Celia thinks a woman's hand belongs on the hilt of a sword,” Colin answered. “Can you imagine the damage she'd do?”

  “Anything she would do would be an improvement, I'd say,” Hugh responded, putting his arm around her.

  “Well, I'm trying to hire her on as a full-time gardener, but we're just now working out the terms.”

  “The terms?” Hugh said, laughing. “By God, man, give her what she wants.”

  Colin turned to Celia. “Well, what do you say to that?”

  “I do not have any idea what you two are talking about...
as usual.”

  “The garden,” the two Campbells responded simultaneously.

  Celia looked from one smiling face to the other, knowing full well that Lord Hugh was matchmaking. It was Colin's true meaning that she was unsure of. Better not to acknowledge the double-meanings, she thought.

  “If you're serious, I'd love to begin putting this garden in order...for as long as we're able to stay.”

  “Colin, you'll have to work that into the terms,” Hugh said. “And as an added enticement, Celia, I think I might even volunteer my services for the heavy work.”

  “That means he'll sit on one of these benches and order you about,” Colin said with a smile at Celia.

  “I haven't heard too many complaints about the orders I've been giving around here for the last forty some odd years.”

  “Of course you haven't. Anyone who's complained has been put out to sea in a rudderless boat.”

  “Aye,” Hugh scolded. “And I should have put you out there while I still had the chance.”

  “If you had, no woman as beautiful as this one would be coming around here.”

  “You think I came to Kildalton to see you?” Celia asked accusingly, looking up into Colin's laughing eyes.

  “Tell him, Celia. You came to Kildalton to see me,” Hugh said, drawing Celia protectively toward him.

  But Colin's reaction was quick and sure, pulling Celia from his father's protective grip. “One morning in a garden, and you think you can charm my woman away from me.”

  Something in Celia responded to Colin's words. He was joking with his father, but he'd called her `his woman.' That didn't sound like part of the joke. Celia looked up at the younger warrior who was watching her every expression.

  “Aren't you my woman?” Colin asked, pulling her affectionately to his side.

  “I thought I was the gardener,” she said, trying to lighten the suddenly serious turn in the conversation, and turning to Lord Hugh. “Didn't he just say I'm the gardener?”

  “The way I remember it, the two jobs have always gone together,” Hugh answered, smiling. “But I think it's time I took Ellen and Kit in, so that you two can work out the details of `employment.’”

  Without another word, the Campbell chief turned and walked around the fountain in the direction of the terrace. Celia started to take a step after him, but Colin stopped her with a gentle hand.

  “Wait a moment,” Colin whispered.

  Ellen cast a look over at Celia as Lord Hugh gathered them up. Celia nodded to her, and as Ellen, carrying Kit, and Hugh went up onto the terrace, Celia could see the young woman and the laird chatting amicably.

  The spring sun spread a shimmering blanket of diamonds over the rolling blue sea beyond the garden walls. Sheltered from the wind by the protecting walls, Celia sat beside Colin and basked momentarily in a warmth that came from more than the golden orb above. Her eyes scanned the section of flower beds that lay before her, and suddenly were arrested by a glimpse of color beneath a brushy covering of grass and leaves.

  Leaving Colin's side for a moment, she moved to the bed and crouched down, sweeping the leaves and debris away with her hand.

  “Are you starting your work as gardener already?” Colin asked, coming up beside her and bending on one knee.

  “Colin, look,” Celia exclaimed, pointing to the white, purple, and blue mass of flowers that had been hidden beneath. “Crocuses! The new season really has begun.”

  “Aye, you've brought the earliest spring I can remember,” Colin responded.

  “I'll wager there's a lot of beauty hidden here beneath all this,” she sighed, standing and waving her hand toward the untended beds.

  “All the beauty out here isn't hidden, Celia,” he said, moving behind her and encircling her with his arms. Gently he pulled her to him, burying his face in the mass of curls on her head.

  Colin felt the tremor go through Celia as the contours of their bodies fitted together in the embrace.

  “How is your head?” he asked, holding her, satisfying a need he'd been feeling all morning to be in physical contact with her.

  “Mmm...good...my head's much better.” She loved the way he held her, the way he enclosed her in his arms.

  “You didn't give me an answer about being my woman,” he said, whispering in her ear as she rolled her head back against his chest.

  “The answer is yes, Colin,” Celia answered softly. “I've never been anyone else's.”

  Colin hugged her fiercely to him, feeling desire for her igniting in his loins. One of his huge hands found its way inside her cloak, and Celia's circular pendant brushed against his hand.

  “What's this?” Colin asked, pulling the medallion from her cloak and inspecting it. “Legendary jewels of the Ottomans?”

  “Just a memory of my mother,” Celia responded, looking down at the keepsake. “It's the only thing I have of hers now.”

  “The only black sapphires I've ever seen so large or so dark,” Colin said in a low voice, “are your eyes.”

  Colin laid the pendant back against her chest and gathered her tightly to him, cupping her firm breast through the fabric of her soft wool dress. Her body arched outward to his touch, melting into his close embrace.

  “I came to your room last night,” he rumbled affectionately.

  “I thought you did, but I didn't know if that was real or a dream,” she responded, caressing the backs of his hands as he held her.

  “You were so beautiful, lying there in your thin nightshift,” Colin whispered, lowering his head and planting gentle kisses against the skin of her neck.

  “You watched me while I was sleeping?” Celia asked in surprise.

  “The firelight was reflected on the beautiful curves of your body.”

  “Wasn't I wearing a blanket?” Celia turned in his arms and faced him, looking into his captivating gray eyes.

  “Your smooth, ivory skin was too alluring for me to keep my hands off.” Colin pulled her against him, his hands tightening around her waist, her back.

  “You touched me? While I was sleeping?” she asked, putting both hands on his shoulders, looking for some hint that he was teasing.

  “The ties that held the front of the nightshift pulled apart so easily.” While one hand held her waist tightly, the other moved inside the opening of her cloak—exploring, caressing her back, her side, her breast.

  “You...you untied my nightshift?” she asked, taking hold of his hand and holding it still.

  “Starting at the top, one fell away.”

  “You didn't.” This was too much.

  “Then the next.”

  “Did you have Agnes give me something in my wine?”

  “Then the last tie fell away...revealing...revealing...” Colin closed his eyes as if remembering.

  “Aye? Revealing what?”

  “I couldn't hold back. I took you in my arms.”

  “I had passed out!”

  “I held your silky body against me.”

  “You wouldn't. You didn't.” Celia was sure that he wouldn't have. Well, fairly sure.

  “You raised your lips to mine.” Colin said, lowering his lips toward hers slightly.

  “I was asleep!”

  “You whispered for me to take you.”

  “I didn't! I would remember that,” she exclaimed.

  “To ravish you.” His lips were a breath away, threatening to devour her at any moment.

  “I wouldn't!”

  “To take you to heights of passion that you'd never experienced before.”

  “That wouldn't be difficult,” she shrugged, a smile beginning to play on her lips.

  “And I did,” he concluded, his face transfixed in his rapturous moment.

  “Was it satisfying for you, m’lord?”

  “It was until I woke up,” Colin reported in a casual tone that was completely devoid of the sensuous pretense of the previous moments.

  “Then you never were in my room last night,” she challenged.

 
“Was I not?” Colin asked, his smirk taunting her.

  “You were the one dreaming last night,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Was I?” he continued seductively.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then how could I know how many ties you have on your nightshift?”

  Celia looked down, still standing in his tight embrace, trying to remember the number of ties. Abruptly she looked up, crimson red, suddenly embarrassed. Three ties.

  Colin's laughter, though, as he released her, erased her doubts.

  “I came to your room last night, but you fell asleep on me,” he said, pulling her two steps to a bench and drawing her onto his lap.

  “You're a beast, Colin Campbell.”

  “And you're very talkative in your sleep.”

  “I'm not,” Celia denied hopefully. “What did I say?”

  “You really do not remember?”

  “Of course I do, you tease, but remind me.”

  “Do you remember this?” he said, catching her chin with his fingers and guiding her upturned lips to his own.

  Colin's kiss began with a slow deliberateness that excited Celia with its promise. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer to her.

  Celia opened her lips and received the pressure of his mouth as he caressed her lower lip with his tongue, his teeth, his lips. She moved her head slightly to accommodate him as his mouth brushed her cheek and nibbled gently at the smooth flesh beneath her ear. She shuddered at the erotic sensation that suddenly raged in her veins.

  “Do you remember telling me you love me?” he whispered, and her chest heaved as his breath caressed her ear. He tenderly kissed the bruise above her temple.

  Celia took his face in her hands and brought his lips to hers.

  He suckled her lip momentarily before sweeping into her with his thrusting, tasting tongue. She felt him explore deeply the recesses of her mouth, their tongues entwining with increasing sensual pleasure. She delved into his mouth with her own tongue, feeling the textures, loving the taste of him. She felt his strong hands grip her shoulders and lift her away from him.