The Loveless Marriage Read online

  Dancing had started on a small platform that had been erected on the instructions of the Laird.

  The most experienced of the young men in the Clan were doing the sword dance and were receiving a great deal of applause.

  The Laird had made a point of inviting the McBraras to take part in the festivities.

  Therefore their dancers followed those of the MacSteels.

  Fyna knew that there were a number of competitions and displays that would continue until it was dark.

  When the meal was finally finished and she had found it impossible to eat more than a few mouthfuls, she left the table.

  It was now time for her to change into her going-away gown.

  The men all rose.

  “I will not be long,” she murmured.

  But, as she spoke, she did not look at her bridegroom.

  He realised how frightened she still was and again wondered what he should do about it.

  With her beauty there must have been men in the Clan who had flattered her and perhaps proposed marriage.

  He also wondered whether they might have kissed her, but he somehow thought it was unlikely.

  There was something pure and innocent about her that he had never found in any woman he had known before.

  In The Castle Fyna changed with Yvonne’s help into her very pretty green going-away gown and one of the housemaids muttered that green was supposed to be unlucky.

  “Not for Madame la Comtesse,” Yvonne said sharply. “She was born in February and therefore green, whether in emeralds or material, is for her the colour of the Gods and very lucky.”

  “I hope you are right,” Fyna said softly.

  She looked at herself in the mirror and could hardly believe that it was herself she was seeing.

  The gown fitted her perfectly and it had a short jacket that only just reached her waist.

  The chip straw of the bonnet was edged with lace with the feathers floating above it.

  She looked more elegant than she had ever looked in her whole life.

  When she was ready, she kissed Yvonne on her cheek.

  “I can never thank you enough,” she said, “for what you have done for me.”

  “I will send three more gowns to the Earl’s Castle early on Monday morning,” Yvonne said. “I understand that is the day you are leaving for Edinburgh.”

  It was the first time that Fyna had heard about it.

  She supposed that Yvonne had got her information from the Earl or one of his servants.

  She said nothing, but hurried down the stairs.

  As she expected, her father was waiting for her in the hall and so was the Earl.

  Outside was the open carriage in which they would drive away.

  Fyna kissed her father.

  Then, as to be expected, the Elders were all there.

  She shook them by the hand, then kissed her father again.

  “Take care of yourself, Papa,” she said, “and please, if I go to Edinburgh, write and tell me everything that happens here at home.”

  “You know that I will, my dearest,” the Laird answered. “And now that you are married, your husband will look after you.”

  The way he spoke told Fyna that for the moment he was thinking of Hamish.

  There had fortunately been no sign of him at the Wedding.

  Fyna was hopeful that, having failed to kidnap her as he had intended, he had now given up the idea.

  But one could never be completely sure where he was concerned.

  She climbed into the open carriage, followed by the Earl, amid a shower of rice, flower petals and white heather.

  Then the crowd, who were mostly servants from both Castles, cheered and they drove off.

  As they neared the open ground, the Clansmen who were assembled there all rushed onto the road.

  The horses slowed down so that the bride and bridegroom could then wave to them as they passed.

  Shouting out ‘Good luck’ and ‘God bless you,” they threw flowers into the carriage and showered rice and petals over the bride and bridegroom.

  When they were finally out of sight and could only just hear the pipes, Fyna shook her head to clear her bonnet.

  The Earl brushed his plaid and swept everything to the floor of the carriage.

  “I am thankful that is all over,” he said. “But I think it is a Wedding that both our Clans will always remember.”

  “I would hope so,” Fyna replied.

  She could not think of anything more to say so they drove on in silence.

  The Earl could not help being aware that his wife was sitting as far away from him as was possible.

  She deliberately, he thought, did not look at him, but he was thinking that her profile was very beautiful.

  Her straight little nose and her firm chin would have delighted any sculptor.

  He told himself she must certainly be painted to join the portraits of all the Countesses of Braradale which hung in The Castle.

  “I don’t know if anyone has already told you,” he said after they had driven several miles without speaking, “that the King is sailing from Greenwich today and should arrive in the Firth of Forth on Wednesday.”

  “No – no one has – told me,” Fyna answered him.

  “It means that we shall have to leave on Monday,” the Earl said, “to be ready to greet him when he arrives. I thought it would be more comfortable and quicker if we went by sea.”

  Fyna nodded her head, but she did not speak.

  “I have notified,” the Earl continued, “those it concerns that I am bringing my wife with me. I only hope that His Majesty will not be offended, but it was impossible to tell him that I was to be married.”

  As if he thought that she did not understand, he added,

  ‘The King always likes to be the first to know everything that happens. There is nothing he enjoys more than being told a secret.”

  “Do – you think,” Fyna said, as the Earl finished and was obviously waiting for a reply, “that he – will be angry?”

  “He may be,” the Earl replied, “but at the same time I think he will understand that there was nothing else we could do.”

  “In fact,” Fyna said, “‘needs must when the Devil drives’.”

  It was the sort of remark that the Earl had not expected her to make.

  He gave a little laugh.

  He thought that was more encouraging than silence and the fear he could feel vibrating from her.

  He wondered if he should ask her why she was frightened, but told himself that it was too soon. It might make things worse than they were already and that was something he did not want.

  Because their carriage was drawn by four well-matched horses, it did not take them long to reach his Castle.

  Fyna had, of course, seen it before, but not at close quarters.

  They drove down the long tree-bordered drive and she thought as they did so that The Castle was even grander than she had imagined it would be when she had first seen it from a distance.

  The servants had gone ahead of them to usher them into The Castle

  But the pipers, on the Earl’s instructions, had stayed at the Wedding to compete with those who represented the MacSteels.

  As they passed into the hall through the huge door, he said,

  “I expect you would like to rest before dinner. It has certainly been tiring shaking hands with so many people.”

  There was an elderly housekeeper to take Fyna upstairs.

  When she saw the bedroom that she was to occupy, she was in fact very impressed.

  Three windows looked out over the garden towards the sea and it was on the first floor as was the sitting room.

  The housekeeper pointed out to Fyna that it had been occupied down the ages by the Earl and Countesses of Braradale.

  The way she spoke made Fyna give a little shiver and looked at the large four-poster bed apprehensively.

  It was quite obvious that the housekeeper was expecting her and the Earl t
o share it.

  She asked herself how she could share a bed with a man she had never seen until today.

  He was her husband only because there was no other way of saving their Clans.

  The housekeeper helped her to undress.

  “His Lordship dines at seven-thirty,” she said when Fyna was in bed. “I’ll bring your bath, my Lady, at a little afore seven.”

  Fyna thanked her and tried not to think what would happen afterwards.

  Because she had not slept during the night before, Fyna dozed for a little while.

  She was dreaming of the river where she had always taken all her troubles.

  The housekeeper pulled back the curtains and two housemaids brought in the round bath, which they set down in front of the fireplace.

  It was scented with wild violets and after it Fyna felt much stronger and her tiredness had vanished.

  She put on the plainest of her evening gowns and she thought that the one that sparkled should be kept until she arrived in Edinburgh.

  She did, however, look very lovely as she walked down the passage into the sitting room.

  It was where she was told that the Earl would be waiting for her.

  He was looking even more resplendent, she thought, in his evening clothes than he had in the Kirk.

  He had a lace jabot at his throat and shining buttons on his evening jacket.

  His kilt and Chieftain’s sporran made him, because he was so tall and good-looking, look like a hero straight out of a history book.

  Fyna had no idea that now the Earl could see her even more clearly, he was astounded at her beauty and the colour of her hair.

  He thought, however, that compliments would embarrass her. He therefore asked if she was comfortable and had everything she required.

  As dinner was announced, they went into the dining room and Fyna looked around her.

  This, she felt, was exactly the sort of great room that a Chieftain should have to entertain his friends and she wished that her father could have one as grand.

  Because his Castle was less impressive, she was beginning to understand something.

  It was that the Earl might easily think that he was being condescending in marrying a MacSteel.

  How could her father compete with the size and grandeur of Brara Castle and the Earl’s vast estate?

  It made Fyna lift her chin a little higher.

  She told herself that she would not kowtow to her husband however superior he might appear.

  Where blood was concerned, they were undoubtedly equal.

  Because there seemed nothing else to talk about, the Earl asked about the sport of the previous year and if the grouse-breeding season had been favourable.

  It was a conversation that Fyna had heard a thousand times.

  She told him what had been shot and how many salmon they had caught in the river.

  “I have a river of my own,” the Earl said. “But because I have been away for so long, I am not sure how it will compare with yours.”

  “Will you be returning here after we have been to Edinburgh?” Fyna asked.

  The Earl hesitated for a moment.

  “I have been thinking that is what I should do because so much has been neglected since my father died and I was away.”

  “It is always the same if the Chieftain is not here,” Fyna said in her quiet voice. “There is no one to give any orders, so nothing gets done. The Clansmen will just drift along without making any effort to improve their flocks or themselves.”

  The Earl smiled.

  “Now I think you are reproaching me,” he said, “and I was hoping that was something you would not do.”

  “I did not – mean to do so,” Fyna replied quickly. “I was only thinking that there is so much to be done and the Clansmen – must have leadership.”

  “I suppose I have always been aware of that,” the Earl said. “But in the past few years I have found so much that has intrigued and amused me that quite frankly I had no wish to come home.”

  There was nothing that she could say to this except that she thought it was reprehensible.

  She also thought that when he was married he would find The Castle even more boring than it had been before.

  She was glad, however, that she did not have to say much more.

  There was the sound of pipes and Jock came in to encircle the table three times, playing first The Wedding March, then The Battle Cry of the McBraras.

  He played very skilfully that, as the Earl gave him the traditional cup of whisky, Fyna clapped her hands.

  Jock bowed and, when he raised the silver cup, it was not to the Earl but to her.

  When he had left the room, the Earl remarked,

  “I see you have already made a conquest. Jock has always been violently antagonistic to the MacSteels, but now he has accepted you as my wife and I can now only hope that all my Clansmen will do the same.”

  “They must,” Fyna said almost sharply. “We have married for their sake and now they must not let us down.”

  “That is just what I hope will happen,” said the Earl, “but I think it will require a certain amount of vigilance on my part and that you must charm my Clan, which should not be very difficult.”

  “I hope I – can do – that,” Fyna said.

  She did not look at the Earl as she spoke and he knew once again that she was frightened.

  They went into the sitting room and he showed her some of the books he thought that she would find interesting because they were histories of Scotland.

  There were also some special treasures that had been discovered in the grounds or were connected in some way with the McBraras.

  Fyna seemed interested in all of them.

  He was aware, however, as he was perceptive that, when they were looking at something together, she made certain that their arms were not touching.

  If possible she kept the table between herself and him.

  Finally he glanced at the clock and suggested,

  “It has been a long day and I think we should retire to bed.”

  Fyna walked towards the door and he opened it for her.

  “I will not be long,” he said.

  When she had gone, he sighed.

  He had thought that it would take a tremendous effort on his part to make love to his bride as would be expected of him.

  Now, as she was so really beautiful, he knew that for him it would be easy if he could overcome her fear of him.

  The Earl had always known that being a Scot, his perception about other people was very strong and even as a small boy he had known what those around him were thinking.

  As he grew older, he had no need, when he engaged a man, to have any reference from previous employers.

  He knew when he talked to him what he was like and if he was trustworthy.

  He had been acutely aware of the fear in Fyna’s breast while they talked at dinner and it was even more intense afterwards.

  He wondered if he should not go to her room tonight, but wait until they knew each other better.

  Then he thought that to refrain from doing so would be an insult.

  It was something that no bride would ever expect on her Wedding night.

  ‘I must be gentle with her,’ he told himself.

  As a rule he drank very little and this was because the King drank far too much and he had no wish to emulate him in that habit.

  So did the Courtiers in the desire to keep His Majesty company.

  But, as he drove over the border into the MacSteels’ country for his Wedding, he thought that tonight as never before he would need the help and consolation of alcohol.

  However, as he sat at dinner he acknowledged that his wife was very different from what he had foreseen.

  He barely sipped the champagne that Donald had poured into his glass.

  Then quite suddenly what had been a painful duty became an adventure.

  This was something new, something exciting and quite unexpected.

&n
bsp; What man, bridegroom or bachelor, would not be excited by anyone as lovely as the new Countess of Braradale?

  He went to his own room.

  Because he had thought it somewhat embarrassing, he had told his valet not to wait up for him.

  The man had lit the candles and the Earl walked across to the windows to pull back the curtains.

  He had never gone to bed at The Castle without looking out at the sky and the sea.

  Sometimes the moon peeped through the dark clouds and cast a silver light on the moors on either side of the bay.

  At other times there was darkness and the roar of the waves, or flashes of lightning, which had a strange awesome beauty.

  Tonight the stars were bright overhead and there was a young moon creeping up the sky and throwing a silver light on the sea.

  It was as beautiful as the Earl ever remembered it.

  Then he stiffened.

  He was aware that someone was moving through the garden beneath him.

  And he wondered who it could be at this time of night.

  Then, as he saw the slimness of the figure passing through the bushes at the far end, he knew that it was his wife.

  Fyna had gone to her room to undress.

  Like the Earl, because she thought it would be embarrassing, she had told the housemaid who had been appointed to look after her not to wait up.

  “Are you real certain you can manage, my Lady?” the woman asked in a broad Scottish accent.

  “I have managed on my own at home,” Fyna had replied, “so please don’t worry about me.”

  She found that the room was lit with candles.

  Just as the Earl had done, she walked across the room and pulled back the curtains.

  She wanted air and she must breathe.

  She did not look at the bed as she passed it because it frightened her.

  Then, as she looked out at the stars in the sky and the trees in the garden, she knew that she must be with them.

  They would help and comfort her.

  At home she would have gone down to the river and she remembered the Earl saying that he too had a river near his Castle.

  Without thinking and driven by her fear, she slipped out of the bedroom.

  She ran down the stairs.

  Although the candles were all lit, there was no one in the hall.

  She let herself out and, turning away from the front of The Castle, she found a gate.