How to Wed a Wild Lass Read online

  “Don’t forget my bags.”

  “I won’t.”

  River felt much better knowing there was an escape plan now. The food was starting to come, hurriedly because the daughters wanted to get back to the table and take their place on River’s free side. They were bumping into each other, hissing angrily, until Amethyst finally tossed a wooden plate with a big loaf of day-old bread onto the table and planted herself right next to River.

  He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her as she leaned into him, smiling her big-toothed smile; he could see her in his periphery. Grossly disappointed that they hadn’t been fast enough, Garnet slammed down a bowl of something, which sloshed out onto the tabletop, as Sapphire brought wooden bowls. She distributed the bowls, glaring at Amethyst the entire time, before plopping down next to Garnet on the other side of the table.

  River was praying the meal would be over soon. He wasn’t sure how long it would be before they would force him to dance again, singing songs about dead husbands and playing off-tune instruments. He was busy ignoring their stares as Lammy made her way over to the table, a big platter in her hands.

  Whatever the platter held was covered with a cloth and she set it down carefully on the table. It was heavy, whatever it was. Snatching off the cloth, River and Duchy were faced with something quite unappetizing.

  It was a sheep’s head that had been cooked and then cooked again to warm it up, giving it something of a macabre appearance. Most of the meat had been carved off of the cheeks and Lammy collected a hammer and a chisel, cracking open the skull as River and Duchy watched distastefully.

  Pieces of bone came away, revealing the cooked brain within, which Lammy scooped up with a spoon and plopped into River’s dish. As he stared into his bowl, wondering how in the world he was going to eat something he had always thought was purely disgusting, Lammy began to speak.

  “My lasses will continue the entertainment after we eat,” she said. “They love to entertain guests. ’Tis a shame they have no husbands yet to ply with their talents.”

  Considering how the women behaved, that was no great surprise. River was coming to see why they had to set the man traps; it was their only chance to force a man into submission. But given the rumors of the man traps, River also wondered what had become of those men they’d trapped. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, considering his might be the same fate as those unfortunate souls. As he once again lamented getting himself into this position, Duchy spoke up beside him.

  “I find it shocking that no man has wooed them,” the old man said, sounding sympathetic. “Do men have no taste in accomplished women these days?”

  Lammy threw up her hands. “I wish I knew,” she said, spooning out more cooked brains. “Why, look at my lasses. They are almost to prime marriageable age. I must find husbands for them soon or they will be spinsters.”

  Duchy looked at the three women, suspecting they were well into their third decade of life and already spinsters. “Have ye tried everything, Mistress Lammy?” Duchy asked, sounding as if he were very much concerned. “There must be husbands for them, somewhere.”

  Lammy wiped her nose with the back of her hand as she became emotional. “I’ve done everything,” she insisted. She looked at her girls and her eyes brimmed. “Look at them; such beauties. And no husbands!”

  Duchy reached out and timidly patted Lammy’s arm. “There, now,” he said. “Ye mustn’t fret. There’s time yet.”

  Lammy was dramatic as she cleaned out the skull of the rest of the brains. “Look at them,” she said. “There is no time left at all!”

  Duchy looked at the women, who were all looking intently at River. “Do ye know what I think?” he said thoughtfully. “I think ye should go to St. Michael’s and talk to the priest. ’Tis not far from here, ye know. The priest would know all of the eligible men in the parish and ye could have yer pick of them.”

  Lammy’s tears dried up suspiciously fast. “I’d not thought of that,” she said as if the entire concept surprised her. “I’ve not been to church in many a year. Do ye think the priest will help?”

  “Ye can ask him. Surely there are men about who are looking for strong wives, don’t ye think?”

  Lammy looked at her daughters, who were still staring at River as if there wasn’t anyone else in the room. No one was moving to eat; they were simply staring.

  “Eat!” she boomed.

  The daughters jumped at the sound of her voice, picking up their spoons and passing around the bread. It was clear that they feared their mother and were obedient when she was strict with them.

  Duchy eyed River, silently encouraging him to eat. He wouldn’t touch the brains in his bowl, but he did take a big hunk of the bread, washed down with the bitter ale. The shock of the situation was wearing off and in its place was a genuine desire to flee. The more he watched the women eat, and stare at him, the more he was prepared to use his excuse and run. He hated to leave Duchy behind, but the man had escaped these women once before. River had no doubt he could do it again because, clearly, they weren’t interested in him.

  It was River they wanted.

  So, he finished off his bread, suffering through a bizarre meal where no one was really speaking. It was quiet and tense, and River was convinced that the daughters were plotting on what to do with him after the meal was finished. He’d heard their playing and singing, and he’d lived through the dancing, so he couldn’t imagine what else they wanted to unleash on him.

  He didn’t want to stick around to find out.

  The moment had come.

  “I must excuse myself,” he finally said, standing up from the bench. “I… I have personal business to attend to. Private, if ye know what I mean.”

  Amethyst was on her feet, fully prepared to go with him, but Lammy smacked the tabletop.

  “Ammie,” she snapped. “Sit down. Did ye hear the man? He has personal business to attend to. If a man says it’s private, then ye let him do what he must.”

  Amethyst sat down, but it was with great uncertainty. River smiled thinly at the women, at Duchy, and headed for the door. He was hugely thankful that they hadn’t pressed him or, worse, insisted on going with him. He was going to make a mad dash to the stables and make his escape, leaving Duchy to the she-wolves. He felt rather guilty about it, but sacrifices had to be made.

  In this case, Duchy’s.

  Once outside, River ran straight for the stone barn where his horse was tethered, munching away on dried grass. His saddle and bridle were slung over the wall of the stall, and River had the tack on the horse within a minute or so. He was moving swiftly, terrified that one of those pushy, nosy females was going to follow him outside and find him doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Once he’d tightened up the saddle, River swung himself onto the horse and took off as fast as he could.

  Free!

  Chapter Six

  River was nearly to the main road when he caught sight of the sheep herd again.

  In the distance, he could see the big, gray dog, the one that had been at the shepherdess’ side. That meant she was around there, somewhere, and although he should have pushed on to the road and far away from the women who would soon be in pursuit of him, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Something was pushing him towards that shepherdess, wherever she may be.

  Something told him that he had to find her.

  Following the flock and the barking dog, he ended up in another meadow, southwest of the road. He’d passed through groups of trees to get there and through an open gate, and the expansive landscape with a brook meandering through it appeared.

  But no shepherdess.

  Surely, she had to be around somewhere. He slowed his pace, plodding through the meadow, pushing sheep aside in his search. The dog found him. It was a big hairy thing and followed along. He eyed the animal.

  “Where is yer mistress?”

  The dog simply looked up at him, wagging its tail, and River continued through the meadow, finally circling it, thinking he surely must have missed the shepherdess. She was here, somewhere.

  And then he smelled it – smoke.

  As the dog went back to mind the flock, River followed the trail of smoke and ended up just inside the tree line to the south, where the smoke grew stronger. He finally spied the source – a small cooking fire in the shelter of the trees and a figure crouched down beside it.

  The shepherdess.

  Quickly, he made his way over to her.

  “Ye saw those women coming for me,” he said as he reined his horse to a halt a few feet away. “Why didn’t ye warn me?”

  The young woman didn’t seem startled by his appearance. She glanced up at him casually as she stirred a small pot of something bubbling over the fire.

  “I tried to,” she said. “Ye were too busy convincing me that I would make a fine countess. So ye escaped them, did ye? Ye’re cleverer than I thought.”

  He dismounted. “That statement tells me that ye know that bunch.”

  “I do.”

  “Neighbors?”

  “Sisters.”

  River looked at her in shock. “Those are yer sisters?” he gasped. “Do ye jest with me?”

  She shook her head, focused on her cooking meal. “Not in the least. They are my older sisters.”

  River was taken aback. Coming over to the fire, he crouched down, looking at her across the smoke and flame.

  “But…,” he said. “But ye look nothing like them. They’re much larger than ye are, to begin with. And much more aggressive.”

  “I know.”

  She wasn’t very forthcoming with information, which puzzled him. “But why are ye out here in the middle of the fields, watching over the flock?” he asked. “Why are ye not with them?”

 
She smiled faintly, glancing up at him. “Because they don’t want me with them,” she said. “Ye’re right; I look nothing like them. They are all older than I am and when they realized that men look at me long before they look at them, they banished me.”

  His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Banished?”

  She nodded. “Whenever they are hunting for men, I must stay away. And I do.”

  River was coming to understand what was going on – three older, homely sisters and the youngest a rare beauty. Of course they wouldn’t want her around.

  He was shocked.

  “What’s yer name, lass?” he asked after a moment.

  Her eyes flicked up to him. “Emerald,” she said. “But I am called Emmie. My mother named us all for precious stones, ye know. Sapphire, Garnet, Amethyst, and Emerald. Sapphie, Nettie, Ammie, and Emmie. We are the finest jewels of the north, she says.”

  “One of them is, anyway.”

  Her gaze lingered on him. “Which one?” she asked. “Sapphie can play the citole and…”

  He cut her off. “I have heard Sapphie’s playing,” he said with disapproval. “And don’t tell me that Nettie can sing, because I heard her song of a dead husband.”

  “Ye heard that one, did ye?”

  “Aye, I heard that one.”

  Emerald was fighting off a grin. “She has others,” she said. “Some of them are about men who are untrue. I don’t think ye want to hear those songs.”

  “I’m afraid to ask why not.”

  She lowered her head so he wouldn’t see the grin. “Because she sings of doing unspeakable things to him,” she said. “Castration, I think.”

  He rolled his eyes. “And I thought the words to the songs I knew were questionable.”

  “I heard yer songs. They’re tame compared to what Nettie sings of. One song speaks of gouging out the eyes of the man she loves because he looked at another woman.”

  “Bleeding Christ,” River muttered. “Is she capable of doing such things?”

  “Nettie is capable of much.”

  He believed that, implicitly. “I’ve heard yer sisters set traps for men. What are the traps so I can avoid them?”

  She looked at him, then. “Ye’re looking at the trap.”

  His eyes widened. “Ye?”

  She nodded, holding up a hand to calm him because he was close to bolting. “Don’t worry,” she said. “This is not a trap. In fact, if ye’ve managed to escape them, ye deserve to be kept away from them. I will not give ye away.”

  He relaxed somewhat. “Ye have my thanks,” he said. His gaze lingered on her for a moment. “So this morning… that was a trap?”

  “For the most part, although ye were being quite obvious that ye wanted to be found. But yer talk of marriage and of being a countess…”

  “Aye?”

  She shrugged and looked back to her bubbling soup. “It has me thinking.”

  “What about?”

  “Have ye really traveled all over the world?”

  He nodded, shifting so he was sitting on his buttocks. “I have,” he said. “At least, the world most known to us. I have been to Wales and France, to Saxony and to Genoa. My father wanted my brother and me to be well-traveled. He said that is the best education for a man.”

  “Do ye think so?”

  “I have learned a great deal,” he said. “I learned to speak another language. I learned how men in different cities consider different things a priority or a pleasure.”

  “Like what?”

  He cocked his head thoughtfully. “In Genoa, money is king,” he said. “Men give it the greatest priority over anything else. And in Saxony, it is the land. Men crave land over all else.”

  She was listening intently. “I’ve never been away from my home,” she admitted. “What a wondrous thing it would be to see great buildings and great things. I have always dreamed of it.”

  “They why do ye not leave this place?”

  She shrugged. “How?” she said. “I have three older sisters. They must be married before I can accept a suitor, and considering ye’ve seen those three, what do ye think their chances will be of marrying anytime soon?”

  He grunted. “Ye have a point,” he said, but his gaze remained fixed to her. “Tell me something, Emmie… if ye could leave today, where would ye go?”

  She smiled faintly, perhaps a bit bashfully. “Go?” She lifted her shoulders. “Somewhere. Anywhere. To tell ye the truth, I have always wanted to go to a place in Carlisle called the Magna Domum. I heard a man speak of it once. He stayed with us for the night and told stories of the ancients who built the wall to the north. He said they were a great warring tribe and built many great monuments, and there is a house in Carlisle called the Magna Domum where a man can sleep and eat and be tended to his every need.”

  He grinned at her sense of wonder. “Ye speak of the Romans,” he said. “I saw their work when I was in Rome.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Ye know of them?” she said, more excited than he’d seen her since he’d met her. “Have ye seen their great monuments?”

  “I have seen several.”

  “Are they grand?”

  “As grand as ye can imagine.”

  Emerald had the glow of excitement still in her expression as she thought on the things he had seen. “When my sisters and I were younger, my mother took us to St. Michael’s so the priests could teach us the words from the bible,” she said. “My sisters never had much interest in learning to read or write, but I did. I learned a little, just to write my name, when my mother stopped taking us to the church after my father died. She said there was no God if he let Da die.”

  River leaned over, lying on his side and propped up by one arm as the fire snapped and popped. “Do ye believe that?”

  “Nay,” she said softly, looking around their forest haven. “I believe that God is everywhere. There must be a God if this world is so beautiful. Don’t ye think?”

  River nodded faintly. “I do.”

  She smiled, perhaps a bit embarrassed. “I suppose that’s a silly question,” she said. “I didn’t mean to sound sacrilegious, but I believe strongly in God even if my mother does not. I want to see all that He has created and things that men may have had divine guidance in building.”

  “Like Roman monuments and great houses.”

  “Aye. And I want to learn to read and write. Do ye know how?”

  He nodded. “I do,” he said. “I can teach ye if ye wish.”

  Her expression was one of appreciation. “That is kind of ye.”

  “’Tis not a kindness,” he said. “I expect my wife to read and write. How else is she to manage my earldom?”

  Emerald giggled softly. “So we’re back on finding ye a wife, are we?” she said. “Did ye not find an eager candidate with my sisters?”

  “Eager, aye. Desirable, nay.”

  “But ye could be married tonight if ye chose one.”

  River shook his head. “And I could kill myself in a moment by dragging a dirk across my throat,” he said, watching her laugh. “Nay, Emmie. I am coming to think that my impulsiveness from this morning was misplaced. Certainly, I want to inherit the earldom, but I do not want to ruin my life in doing so. I hope my brother is discovering the same thing and not risking his life for some foolish lass.”

  Emerald stirred the soup one last time, lifting her wooden spoon to taste it. “Have ye eaten?” she said. “I know my mother and sisters would have fed ye.”

  He curled a distasteful lip. “They served me things I would not eat, in any case,” he said. “I did not want to be rude, but I do not eat the brains of sheep.”

  Emerald pointed to her soup. “I boiled the bones of a rabbit along with its meat,” she said. “There are some carrots and turnips in there, too. Ye’re welcome to what I have.”

  “Ye’re a generous lass,” he said. “How is it that ye’re generous when yer family has treated ye so poorly?”

  She dipped a small wooden cup into the soup before extending it to him. “Something the priest said to me once, those years ago,” he said. “He told me to pity those who are bitter and unhappy. Deep down, my sisters are unhappy. They know that they shall probably never marry. But, still, each one keeps trying to find that one man who will accept her for who she is. I don’t blame them for pushing me aside. I am not like them, not at all. But I know that I will leave this place, someday. I will see those great monuments and that house in Carlisle. My sisters’ dreams only have to do with them; my dreams have to do with the entire world.”