Bond of Passion Read Online Free PDF Page B

Da?”
    “In the western borders on the sea,” Robert Baird answered his daughter.
    “I am nae a shrew!” Myrna said angrily.
    Sorcha and their youngest sister, Agnes, giggled as Annabella shrugged but did not take back her harsh words.
    “Now, now, my lasses, ye’re sisters. Make yer peace wi’ one another,” their mother said. “Very soon Annabella will be gone from us, and who knows when we will see her again.” She smiled warmly at her eldest daughter.
    “Probably never,” Myrna said almost smugly. “We shall be much too busy with our own lives to go traveling across Scotland to see Annabella and her sorcerer. I am so glad that Sorcha, Agnes, and I will wed closer to home, so we may be near our mother.”
    “Though you three will be near,” the lady Anne said, “’tis Annabella who is making a great marriage and bringing honor to the Bairds of Rath. The distance between us is several days, but we will see one another again,” she reassured her eldest daughter. Then she smiled at them. “Now, because time is short we must begin to prepare your sister for the journey to her new home. In just a few weeks the Fergusons will come to claim her and take her back to Duin.”
    “Ohhh,” Myrna said. “Will we get to see the sorcerer?”
    “Daughter,” Robert Baird said to Myrna, “Angus Ferguson is no sorcerer. Ye must cease referring to him that way. I now find myself grateful he will not be coming to Rath, but sending his proxy.”
    The next few weeks were busy ones, with the ladies of the household packing Annabella’s few possessions into an iron-bound oak trunk. Her dower consisted of linens for both bed and table; two fine goose-down pillows; a down coverlet; a silver spoon and cup; and a fine wooden box filled with ointments, balms, salves, potions, and healing herbs, along with her clothing and small bits of jewelry. A special gown was to be made for the bride to wear on her wedding day. Afterward it would serve as her best garment.
    She tried to picture this unknown man she was to wed so soon. He would be tall, of course. Short men were not usually highly praised as handsome. Was he fair or dark? What color were his eyes? Myrna, who always seemed to know everything, could say only that the gossip about the Fergusons of Duin said they were magical folk, and kept much to themselves. It was the earl’s handsome face that caused the telltales to chatter.
    “He is said to enchant any woman he wants with a mere look,” Myrna related in hushed tones as she crossed herself.
    “It is something to talk about besides the English raids and the destruction they have wrought here in the borders,” Annabella responded. She was a practical young woman. “Babbling about a handsome man is much nicer than wondering how we will feed ourselves in the coming winter.” But for all her brave words, she worried. Still, it was a far better match than she could have ever anticipated.
    “They say he has many mistresses, for once he has loved them, they do not—will not—leave him,” Myrna chattered on. “I’m sorry we will not get to see him, but perhaps ’tis better this way. After all, we are so beautiful, and ye’re so plain, Annabella. The earl might regret his decision if he saw us together.”
    “What a mean thing to say,” young Agnes spoke up in defense of her eldest sister.
    But Annabella, used to Myrna’s thoughtless tongue, just laughed. “Ye’re jealous,” she taunted back. “I am to be the Countess of Duin, and ye naught but Mistress Melville. As for the earl’s many mistresses, they may come in handy if he is not to my taste. I am required to produce an heir for my lord, to keep his house in good order, to stand by his side and chatter pleasantries when he entertains. I can do all of that, Myrna—and a handsome husband is much to be appreciated.”
    Myrna shrugged. “Ye’re a strange lass,” she said. “I should be furious if my husband strayed. Indeed, I should scratch his eyes out