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obedience and chaste behavior. She swiftly punished any who flaunted her authority, even Flanna, for whom she had a small soft spot.

      Una Brodie had lost her only daughter in the same winter epidemic that had killed Flanna’s mother. While she had four sons, her daughter had been the child of her heart. She had been ill herself, and it was Meg Gordon who had nursed both her and her child, thereby contracting the contagion that killed her. Flanna, though nothing like Una’s Mary, was a daughter without a mother; and Una, a mother without a daughter. Though nothing was ever said, she took the child over, raising her as best she could, for Flanna had never been easy, even from her birth, and Meg had spoiled her.

      Properly scrubbed, Flanna stepped naked from the oaken tub to be dried. Her thick hair was toweled and then brushed by the fire until it was soft and shining. A snow-white linen shift was brought, and the bride dressed in it. A small wreath of heather and Michael-mas daisies was fashioned by her nieces for her head. It was all she would wear to her wedding, and she would be barefooted, her hair loose to signify her virgin state.

      “Ye may be tall like yer da and yer brothers, and ye may hae their red hair,” Una observed, “but ye hae yer mother’s face, lassie. Meg was a beautiful woman, she was. Ye hae clear skin, fine eyes, and a mouth fashioned for kissing. The duke will nae be unhappy wi’ ye.

      “Now, listen to me, Flanna. When the time comes for yer husband to bed ye, lie quietly and let him do all the work. It will hurt ye a bit when he goes into ye the first time, but ’tis a momentary discomfort. Afterward, if he’s good at what he does, ye may even gain some pleasure from it, but even if ye dinna, tell him ye did. All men like to believe they are peerless lovers, lassie. There’s nae harm in letting them think they are.”

      “Are my brothers good lovers?” Flanna boldly asked her six sisters-in-law. Her gaze swept them. Then she laughed wickedly at their discomfort. Una looked very displeased with her. Flanna knew she was itching to smack her, but would not allow the others to believe she was annoyed. Ailis, Peggie, Eileen, Mona, and Sorcha were all red-faced.

      “Behave yerself, ye little bitch,” Una snapped. “Because ye’re to be a duchess doesna mean ye can be rude to us. Aulay hae never disappointed me in our bedsport, and I’m certain his brothers hae done well by their wives,” she defended the others. “Now, lassie, mind yer mouth, and down on yer knees, all of ye. We will pray for Flanna’s happiness, and that she gies her husband a fine son in nine months’ time.”

      “Gie over, Una,” Flanna said pertly. “I am nae used to the idea of a husband yet, and ye’re already speaking of bairns.”

      “A male heir will solidify yer position, lassie,” her sister-in-law said sagely. “If ye’re wise, Flanna Brodie, ye’ll gie the duke a bairn as quickly as possible.”

      Chapter 3

      Una sent one of the younger women back into the hall to see if the minister had arrived from the village. He had. So without further ado Flanna was led down the stairs and brought forward before the Reverend Master Forbes, the local Presbyterian cleric. Patrick Leslie came and stood beside her. He was slightly surprised by her dress until he remembered it was an old country custom for a bride to come to her husband barefooted and in her shift. It signified not just innocence, but obedience. He almost laughed, suspecting Flanna’s lack of that virtue, but as long as she kept his house well, he didn’t care.

      The minister cleared his throat and then performed the simple ceremony with dispatch. Patrick Leslie’s voice was clear and strong as he agreed to take Flanna Brodie for his wife. When Master Forbes, however, asked Flanna if she would have the duke for her husband to love, respect, honor, and obey, Flanna hesitated, then said, “I dinna love him, for I dinna know him. He must earn my respect. I will honor him, however, as my lord, but I’ll nae stand before God and promise to obey him, for I canna be certain that I will.”

      The poor startled minister was not certain what to do in the face of the girl’s blunt declaration. Lachlann Brodie looked as if he were going to explode with rage. His face was purple with his anger.

      “I accept the lady’s terms,” Patrick Leslie said suddenly, breaking the deadlock. “ ’Tis only fair, considering that we hae just met a few hours ago. I appreciate both her candor and her honesty. It speaks well of her character.”

      “Verra well, then,” Reverend Forbes said quickly, relief pouring through his very soul. “Then I pronounce that this couple are now husband and wife.”

      “If ye were still my responsibility, lass, I’d take a stick to ye,” her father said, “and I advise yer husband to do so.”

      For once Flanna held her peace, not answering her father back.

      “The meal is ready,” Una announced, and they all sat down to eat.

      The duke was surprised to see what a truly fine table his new father-in-law kept. Given Lachlann Brodie’s reputation for parsimony, he would not have expected it. There was fish, freshly caught, both trout and salmon on beds of wild watercress. A half side of beef, roasted and dripping its juices; a large platter of ducks, their skins crisp, and stuffed with bread and apples; a rabbit stew in a fragrant brown gravy with carrots and leeks; fresh bread, butter, and a small wheel of cheese; and the best October ale Patrick Leslie had ever tasted. There was no wine, but there was fresh-pressed cider for those with a more delicate palate.

      Flanna, whose appetite was usually quite good, found herself picking at her food. It was quickly dawning upon her that she would shortly be forced to get into bed with this dark stranger. She knew virtually nothing about what really transpired between men and women. She had never been particularly interested. As she had no female friends of her own age with whom to gossip, her scant knowledge had come from Una, who was quite loath to discuss such matters with a maiden. Una’s few words before they had come into the hall had only confused Flanna further. I shall look like a damned fool, she thought to herself, suddenly just a little frightened.

      Patrick Leslie watched his new wife surreptitiously and saw she was hardly eating. Just how much of a virgin was she? he wondered. The old man said she was untouched, but one could never tell with these Highland lasses. And was the reason for the hasty marriage as simple as it appeared? Or was the lass with another man’s child? Looking at Flanna, he discarded that suspicion. There had been nothing to indicate the lass was loose in her previous behavior. The canny old Brodie simply had seen a chance to wed his only daughter to a title, and he had taken it. But, the duke decided, he would, indeed, bed his bride tonight in her father’s house. If she proved not to be a virgin, he would repudiate the marriage immediately. Brae, however, would still be his, a forfeit to the fraud.

      The meal was finally cleared away. A piper came into the hall to play. The Brodie men arose by ones and twos to dance before the board. The air was beginning to become slightly blue with the smoke from the fireplace which was drawing badly. Patrick realized he had said nothing to Flanna since they had taken their vows before the minister. Neither, however, had she spoken to him. Holding out his hand to her, he arose from the table, drawing her up with him.

      “Come, madame, and let us dance to celebrate our union.” He led her forth into the middle of the floor, and the piper began to play the stately wedding dance. He was surprised to find she was extremely graceful despite her height. Holding up the skirt of her simple shift, she dipped and trod with a sure step. He twirled her, drawing her into the curve of his arm, and leaning back her head, she looked up at him for a brief moment. Her eyes are silver gray. He had not known it until now. He offered her a small smile of approval at her skill. “Ye dance well, madame,” he said softly to her.

      “Thank ye, my lord,” she replied low.

      “They make a handsome pair,” Una Brodie whispered to her husband. “Yer da had the devil’s own luck here today. I’d nae thought we would get her married off at all, let alone married off so well, and to the Duke of Glenkirk.”

      “Pray he gets her with bairn quickly and she delivers a healthy lad,” Aulay Brodie answered his wife. “His family will nae be pleased when they learn of this marriage. I’m certain they

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