Highland Hearts 03 - Crimson Heart (24 page)

Elena glanced around, her gaze landing first on Searc and then Marie. “Are we to be—?”

“
Oui
,” Marie interrupted and shooed them with her hands. “You, Elena, without a family name, need one. And I very much wish it to be a Scottish last name. ’Tis time to step up with your Highland husband, whom you’ve wed before God, and say your vows now before the church.”

Searc felt a quick thrum of panic shoot through Elena as he held her arm, but she stepped casually with him up to the priest.

Father Renard began his Latin verses. Henri, Marie, and her ladies formed two rows behind them to witness the exchange. Searc continued to hold Elena’s arm though she stood strong and tall. She’d known this was coming and took solace in the thought she could have the union annulled. He would deal with that later. For now, she would be tied to him legally, before a priest in a house of God, before the queen regent of Scotland.

He held his breath as she spoke. “I swear to honor and obey until death do us part,” she repeated after Father Renard.

“Searc Munro of the Highlands,” the priest intoned though Searc’s attention had been caught by the sound of quick footfalls on the cobblestone outside the chapel.

A mixture of English and thick Gaelic made him turn toward the door as a large man nearly brained himself on the low arch. Before he could do any more than yell a string of curses, a flutter of gray wool rushed past the man into the chapel. “Stop!” The woman’s familiar blue eyes swung through the occupants to land squarely on him. “Searc! What is going on here?” Her gaze narrowed on the priest and then landed on Elena.

Searc moved instinctively in front of Elena, blocking her, though keeping his grasp on her behind his back.

“And who are you?” Marie eyed them both.

Searc pulled Elena to his side, his arm over her stiff shoulders. “Your grace,” he began. “And Elena, meet Rachel Munro, lady of Munro Castle. My mother.”

Elena Tudor, born 18 December 1531, with Love from your mother Catherine of Aragon, Queen of England

“And I am, Alec Munro, Chief of Clan Munro of the Western Highlands and Searc’s father.” He nodded to Marie.

Elena felt the world sway.
Pull in more air.
She breathed in deeply, pushing the sparks of light from her periphery. The woman before Searc, with snapping blue eyes, rivaled Marie de Guise in lethal stares.

“You are getting married?” Lady Munro’s voice filling the small, tightly packed chapel.

“Woman,” Father Renard rebuked. “This is a house of God. You will lower your voice.”

The man who towered nearly as tall as Searc, stepped up to stand even with Searc’s mother, his sharp gaze going to the priest. “And ye, Father, will mind yer tone with my wife.” Searc’s father peered to the side to get a better look at Elena. His eyebrows rose. “Getting wed?” Through his beard, Elena could see his mouth turn up at the corners. His eyes were kind like Searc’s when he wasn’t staring someone down. “Well now. She is a right bonny lass.”

Her lips rose up in a smile and she bobbed a quick curtsey. She instantly liked Searc’s father.

Rachel Munro turned to Marie who watched on in humorous curiosity. She sunk low into a curtsey. “Your grace,” she said, but without waiting for a reply, Lady Munro stepped into the vestibule and grabbed Elena’s hand from Searc’s. “Who are you?”

Elena felt heat flash through her body and gasped softly. Her wrist, where the green sleeve had risen, exposing the raw flesh from Lyngfield’s ropes, smoothed, the skin restored. Father Renard murmured something and passed the sign of the cross before him.

Lady Munro leaned forward. “Speak. What is your name?”

“Mother. This is Elena,” Searc began, but she flashed him a frown and laid her hand on his chest. He sighed. “I am well.”

Lady Munro snorted. “For all my worry,” she murmured. “Thank the good Lord.” She turned her piercing gaze back on Elena. “Elena who?”

Marie choked out a laugh behind Rachel and raised one eyebrow toward Elena. Elena felt her cheeks pinken. “Almost Elena Munro,” she replied.

Rachel didn’t let go of her hand but turned toward her husband. “She has an English accent.”

“That is because she is English.” Searc pulled Elena back into his side. For a brief moment, Elena felt tugged between them. “Just like you, Mother.”

Rachel Munro pursed her lips. “A woman you’ve only known for—” she flapped her hands in the air, “—two weeks perhaps? And you are wedding her. I’m assuming you are the one who has taken her maidenhead?”

Father Renard started to choke behind the altar and Elena felt her face ignite while the rest of the chapel remained perfectly silent, perhaps waiting for her to burst into flames on the spot. If she was lucky.

“Is that why you are marrying her?” Lady Munro continued while studying Elena from head to toe. Good lord, was she expected to answer?

Searc took his mother’s hand off of Elena. “I will not answer such things.”

“She couldn’t live worrying about ye.” His father spoke, a smile still sitting about his mouth. “Set out within a fortnight to follow ye here.”

“He’s our son,” Rachel Munro snapped and Elena couldn’t quite tell who the woman was more furious with, Searc or her husband. “He’s our last son and I’m not losing him.” Elena noticed the shaking in the woman’s hand as she held onto Searc. The brave woman was terrified and Searc wasn’t helping with his furrowed brow and frown.

Elena let her mouth soften so the corners could turn up slightly. “I think that you are very fortunate, Searc, to have a family, one who obviously loves you a great deal.” Her heart tightened. “I would have followed him too.”

Lady Munro stared at her for a moment but then swung back around to Searc. “You wish to wed this woman?”

“I am standing before a priest, saying my vows, Mother.”

“Respect yer mother, lad, or ye’ll be spending yer wedding night with a lump on yer head,” Lord Munro growled. A genuine smile relaxed Elena’s face though her heart still pounded. What would these good people say when Searc told them later he planned to annul the union? Her smile faded.

“Aye.” Searc nodded. “I wish to finish wedding Elena.”

One stark clap from behind them made Elena jump. “Let us finish this then.” Marie de Guise smiled ferally from her spot as witness, clearly tired of waiting. “Then Lord and Lady Munro can join us for the wedding feast.”

Father Renard cleared his throat. “Shall we continue?” He looked pointedly at Lady Munro who frowned back but released Searc’s arm to join her husband outside the small vestibule. “Repeat after me.” The priest continued on but asked slightly different promises from Searc. Where was the word obey in his oath?

“I promise to protect and cherish Elena until death do us part,” Searc intoned. His words were so strong, and rang of solid truth. How could he do that when he was planning to ask his priest to annul their marriage?

Father Renard continued on in Latin. He blessed the family ring that had sat on Searc’s hand and had Searc place it on Elena’s finger. It would have to do for now. Then the priest rested his cold hand over their joined ones for a blessing. “As we witness this union before God, may it last for all time. Amen.”

“Stop! What’s going on here?”

Elena turned to see Lord Randolph panting in the doorway. His jacket was off, his neat hair askew.

“
Mon Dieu
,” Henri Cleutin swore in frustration and drew his short sword in the cramped chapel.

The guards that had followed the ambassador into the chapel took his arms on either side. He looked at them incredulously. “Unhand me.”

“
Non, monsieur
ambassador.” Marie’s voice had turned instantly to ice.

Searc moved to stand before Elena and his father stepped up next to him, pulling Rachel and sealing both women in the vestibule with a sputtering Father Renard.

“A secret wedding?” Lord Randolph asked with indignation. “Without proper banns. The woman is an English citizen. She cannot wed without proper approval from her majesty.”

Elena steadied herself by holding onto the back of Searc’s tunic. She breathed deeply to revive her numb lips.

Marie’s voice filled the small chapel. “Lord Randolph, you cannot mean to say that Queen Mary must grant each and every one of the subjects within her kingdom permission to wed.”

God’s teeth!
Elena pressed her forehead into Searc’s back.

“Ye are too late.” Searc’s voice came low and lethal. “The vows have been said. Elena is mine. She is now a Scottish subject. If ye speak to her again, ye will do so with me at her side.” Though his words were proper, the force and tone behind them carried a dark threat that could not be missed.

“The wedding will be annulled.” Lord Randolph’s voice bordered on desperate.

From the side, Elena could see Marie where she stood near the stained glass rendition of St. Margaret. The queen regent smiled. “’Tis already consummated, Lord Randolph. The binding will hold.”

“Nay!”

“My maid will swear to the evidence on the sheets.” Marie seemed to rise up on her toes like a child barely able to contain her happiness over a sweet treat.

Elena burrowed her flaming face harder into Searc’s back and closed her eyes.

“Courage,” Rachel Munro whispered next to her. “A Highlander’s wife must have courage.”

Elena turned her face to the woman. Rachel still frowned but her eyes held a softness like empathy. Elena nodded and stood up straighter.

“Do you know what you have done?” Lord Randolph’s bellow made Elena quiver, but she shifted to stand between Searc and his father. The ambassador was directing his question at Searc. “Elena is no common English girl. She is royal, with the blood of her full sister, Queen Mary Tudor, running in her veins. She is the hope of England! And you just defiled her! Brought her down to your common level! Her name is Elena Tudor, daughter of Henry VIII and his true wife, Catherine of Aragon.”

The chapel swelled with hushed stillness. People packed within its walls held their breaths. The whisper of Thomas Seymour’s voice beat with Elena’s heart.
Courage. When the game is lost, do not surrender your dignity.
Elena held onto Searc’s sturdy arm as she pushed between him and his father to stand proudly before the staring crowd. She took a deep breath, her voice rising with strength, matching the deep thudding of her heart. “I am Elena Munro, Lord Randolph, wife to Searc Munro and subject of Scotland.”

“Where is your proof, Lord Randolph?” Henri placed his hand out as if waiting for his palm to be filled.

“A locket! She has it.” Randolph pointed at Elena. “Queen Mary also has a letter from her mother about the girl’s birth.” He turned his gaze back to her. “Elena.” He bowed his head. “You could be queen, at least a princess.”

“And I could be used by every noble with a quarrel with Queen Mary.” Elena’s words clipped from her mouth in a rapid tattoo. “Or by Queen Mary herself as a pawn to marry away. Nay.” She shook her head, staring squarely at the ambassador. “I have decided my fate. I am Elena Munro.”

Elena felt a brush against her shoulder as Searc’s mother came to stand up next to her. “She is a daughter of Scotland, my son’s wife, and a courageous Highland lass.”

“Queen Mary will retaliate.” Randolph all but stamped his feet as he held his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

Marie de Guise snorted. “Mary Tudor desires no rivals to her throne. She would be more than pleased to know that her little sister didn’t survive long after her birth.” She brushed her hands together as if cleaning them of dirt. “There is nothing royal about this woman, except that she is wed to my ambassador of the western Highlands.
Oui
?”

Despite Lord Randolph’s sputtering, Marie turned to Henri, her lips tight. “I believe you have some questions for Lord Randolph regarding his English contacts in the area. Ones who were perhaps counting on Madam Elena’s coercion,
non
?”

“
Oui
.” Henri bowed and waved the guards to take Lord Randolph out the chapel door so he could follow.

“And we shall retire to the great hall for a wedding feast.” Marie began to shoo her ladies out the door ahead of her.

Elena would have to pass along the man’s note to Marie, but for now she just wanted to…she didn’t know. Searc hadn’t said a word since Lord Randolph’s proclamation.

Marie flapped her hands at her ladies while Father Renard spoke low to Lady Munro behind Elena. Without turning her face, Elena peered sideways at Searc. He stood rigid, looking outward while his father came up before him. The muscle in the side of his jaw tensed.

Lord Munro grasped his forearm. “Congratulations, son.”

Searc nodded and gazed down at his father’s hand. Lord Munro glanced between them. “Perhaps the two of ye should talk a spell.” The handsome aging man scratched his chin. “Can’t say I’ve attended a more lively wedding.”

Rachel Munro touched Elena’s arm. “Don’t badger the poor girl, Searc. She’s about worn out with nerves.” Badger her? Searc hadn’t said a single word to her or even looked at her. And how exactly did his mother know she was exhausted?

Searc’s father bowed his head to Elena. “I am Alec Munro and this is my timid wife, Rachel. Seeing as how introductions weren’t officially given to ye.”

Rachel batted at his arm but then took it. “Come now, husband, let us find this wedding feast to which we were invited. I am in need of some food and cheer.” They followed after Marie.

Without a word, Searc placed Elena’s hand on his sleeve. They left Father Renard and stepped out of the chapel. Searc paused, keeping her beside him.

“All this time…” He stopped, his gaze ranging out across the castle walls toward the sprawling town below. “Ye never said who ye were, never trusted me enough.”

Elena’s heart thudded heavily making it hard to speak. “I…I am sorry,” she whispered, not sure if any words could make up for her deception. He guided them down the winding cobblestone street toward the great hall. Silence stuffed the short space between them, making Elena feel miles apart from the man who had held her so tenderly through the night. If only she’d told him her true identity last night. The words needed to have come from her own lips.

But she had tried, and he’d stopped her with a kiss. Out of her guilt, sprouted a glimmer of anger. She had planned to tell him before they were ordered from their quarters. Her secrets had been hers for so long that speaking them had felt impossible, yet she had finally trusted him enough to consider it.

Before reaching the soaring hall, Searc led them off to the right where the residential quarters were. As they entered the darkened corridor, he shook his head. “And still ye are afraid of me.”

Elena frowned at his back as he pulled her along. She nearly had to run to keep up with him. “Not true.”

“I feel it in ye.”

“I don’t know what you feel, Searc, but I’m anxious about…all this.” She flapped her one free hand as they stopped before their door. “And yes, I am worried about how you feel, but that is quite different from fear.”