Just Beyond Tomorrow by Bertrice Small Read Free Book Online Page A

better wench at yer side in a fight. She’s a virgin, I’ll guarantee ye, for none can get near her, so ye may be certain yer heir is yer own blood. If ye want Brae, ye must take my daughter to be yer wife. Ye dinna hae a wife, do ye?”
    He thought about lying to the old man, but it would be a lie easily discovered. “Nay, I hae nae wife,” he answered.
    â€œI will nae marry him!” Flanna shouted, but she was ignored. This business was between her father and the duke, it would seem.
    â€œHush, ye stupid little ninny,” Una Brodie hissed at her. “Yer da is going to make ye a duchess if ye’ll keep quiet.”
    â€œI’ll nae have him!” Flanna attempted to make her wishes known once again.
    Patrick Leslie looked at the girl. He needed a wife. The truth was he didn’t care if he loved her or not. He needed a wife who could give him heirs, and Flanna looked strong enough. Love was an unpleasant complication, he had already decided. The girl was pretty enough. The dowry was something he badly wanted. He didn’t need gold, for he was a wealthy man. His family wanted him wed. Who else was there? True, the Brodies were hardly equal to the Leslies of Glenkirk. They were rough and rude Highlanders, but it didn’t matter. It was unlikely he would see them often once Flanna was at Glenkirk. Unless, of course, he needed their aid in a fight. Looking about at the hard-eyed Brodie men, he decided they would be an asset in a battle. In that moment he realized he had made his decision. “I’ll take her,” he said.
    â€œNay!” Flanna stamped her foot and looked about the hall for some small support. There was none.
    â€œMy lord, this decision is ill-advised,” Colin More-Leslie murmured to his master. “Surely there is another way. Would yer father, may God assoil his good soul, approve? And what of yer princess mother?”
    â€œI need a wife,” the duke said implacably, “and I want Brae. It seems the perfect solution to me, Colly.”
    â€œGo down to the village and fetch the minister from the kirk,” Lachlann Brodie commanded his eldest son.
    â€œYe want me to wed her here and now?” Patrick Leslie was very much taken aback, but then it didn’t really matter, did it?
    â€œYe’ll wed her, and ye’ll bed her, my lord, so my sons and I may be certain ye canna repudiate her on the basis of nonconsummation, while keeping Brae for yerself. I dinna trust nae man.”
    â€œHe’s a canny old devil,” Colin More-Leslie said softly.
    â€œAs ye will, Lachlann Brodie,” the duke said. “Send Aulay for the minister. ’Tis as good a time as any for a wedding.”
    â€œAnd ye’ll remain the night,” came the veiled order.
    â€œAye, and breach the lass so all may see her innocence on the sheets come the morrow before I take her back to Glenkirk. The deeds to Brae safely in my possession then, eh?”
    Lachlann Brodie nodded. “Agreed,” he said, spitting in his palm and holding it out to the duke.
    Patrick Leslie spit in his own palm, and then the two men shook hands. “Agreed,” he responded.
    â€œNay,” Flanna Brodie said softly, but no one was listening to her. She might as well have protested to the wind.
    â€œFive hundred gold crowns lost, and ye’re to be a duchess,” her sister-in-law Ailis murmured enviously. “What luck!”
    â€œLuck?” Flanna said bitterly. “I see nae luck. At least ye love my brother Simon, and he cares for ye. All this Leslie of Glenkirk wants of me is Brae. Whether he buys it, or weds it, it makes nae difference to him at all. What the hell do I know about being a duchess? I’ll shame myself and my husband wi’ my ignorance. There is nae luck here.”
    â€œYe can surely learn how to be a duchess,” Ailis said. “Besides, I doubt ye’ll ever go to court. The English, I am told, hae