The Bride by Julie Garwood Read Free Book Online Page A

turned to frown at Jamie again. "Well, milady?"
     
    Jamie let out a soft sigh. "I'll admit I did make up some of the stories, but just as many are really true, Beak."
     
    "How could you be knowing what's true and what's false? You shouldn't listen to gossip anyway. I taught you better than that."
     
    "What gossip?" Mary asked.
     
    "Scots throw cabers at one another just for the sport of it."
     
    "Cabers?"
     
    "Pine trees, Mary," Jamie answered.
     
    Mary let out a loud, inelegant snort. "They don't."
     
    "Aye, they do," Jamie countered. "And if tossing cabers at one another isn't a barbaric ritual, then I don't know what is."
     
    "You really think I'll believe anything you tell me, don't you?"
     
    "It's true, Mary," Beak admitted. "They do throw cabers, though not at one another."
     
    Mary shook her head. "I can tell by the way you're grinning at me that you're teasing me, Beak. Oh, yes, you are," she added when he started to protest. "And I suppose it's true the Scots wear women's clothing?"
     
    "What—" Beak strangled on a cough. He hoped the warriors had already left the stables, after all, and couldn't overhear this shameful talk. "I think we should stroll on outside to finish this discussion. It's too fine a day to be cooped up inside."
     
    "It is true," Jamie told her sister, ignoring Beak's suggestion. "They do wear women's gowns. Don't they, Beak?"
     
    "Where'd you hear that blasphemy?" Beak demanded.
     
    "Cholie told me."
     
    "It was Cholie?" Mary asked. "Well, if you'd bothered to mention that fact, I wouldn't have believed any of your tales. You know as well as I do that the kitchen help tips the jug of ale all day long. Cholie was probably sotted."
     
    "Oh, spit," Jamie muttered. "She wasn't sotted."
     
    "Oh, spit?" Mary repeated. "Honestly, Jamie, you talk just like Beak."
     
    "They do," Beak said, trying to stop the budding argument.
     
    "They do what?" Mary asked.
     
    "Wear clothing that stops at their knees," Beak explained.
     
    "There, I told you so, Mary."
     
    "Their clothing is called their plaid, Mary. Plaid," Beak repeated with a growl. "It's their sacred dress. I think they'd take exception to hearing it called a woman's gown."
     
    "Then it's little wonder to me why they have to fight all the time," Jamie interjected. She hadn't really believed Cholie's tale, but Beak looked so sincere she was beginning to think he was telling the truth.
     
    "Aye," Mary agreed. "They have to defend their gowns."
     
    "They aren't gowns."
     
    "Now look what you've done, Jamie. You've got Beak shouting at us."
     
    Jamie was immediately contrite. "I'm sorry, Beak, for upsetting you. My, you are nervous today. You keep looking over your shoulder. Do you think someone's going to pounce on you from behind? What in—"
     
    "I missed me nap," Beak blurted out. "That's why I'm surly."
     
    "You must go and have a proper rest, then," Jamie advised. "Come along, Mary. Beak's been so patient with us and I can tell he isn't feeling at all well."
     
    She took hold of Mary's hand and started toward the door. "Good God, Mary, they actually do wear women's gowns. I didn't really believe Cholie, but now I'm convinced."
     
    "I'm running away and that's that," Mary said, loud enough for Beak to overhear. She suddenly stopped, then whirled around. "One last question, please?" she called out.
     
    "Yes, Mary?"
     
    "Would you be knowing if the Scots hate fat women, Beak?"
     
    He didn't have any answer for that absurd question. After he shrugged his shoulders, Mary turned around and chased after Jamie. Both sisters lifted the hems of their skirts and started running toward the upper bailey. Beak let out a soft chuckle as he watched the pair.
     
    "She was given a man's name."
     
    The stable master nearly jumped out of his tunic. He hadn't heard Alec Kincaid's approach. He turned around and came face to shoulders with the giant warrior. " 'Twas her mama's way of giving her a place in this family. Baron Jamison