Page 37 of The Laird's Bride
At his side, Jeannie was very quiet. "They're all very friendly, aren't they?" she said. "So kind and welcoming."
"Of course. Why wouldn't they be?" His people's welcome of his bride was on his behalf at this stage, but once they got to know her, they'd love her, he was sure.
She grimaced. "I'll never remember all their names."
"You will, in time."
She squeezed his arm. "Thank you for waiting until I was fit to be seen."
He frowned. He wasn't ashamed of how she looked when he first brought her home—Lord, did she not know how bonny she was? "You'd be bonny wearing nothing but a wheat bag," he told her and was rewarded with a blush and a glowing look.
As they neared the castle entrance, they heard the sound of someone roaring and bellowing in the courtyard. "Oh no!" Jeannie exclaimed, and sped toward the noise, fleet as a young doe.
Cameron raced after her. What the hell was she doing, running toward trouble?
He entered the courtyard a few steps behind her, and saw the source of the commotion, a tall rangy man of about sixty, with wild gray hair. It was clear the man had been drinking. He was reeling and staggering and bellowing at the top of his voice, "Gi' me back ma granddaughter! Stolen awa' from me, she was! Where is she? Where's the bastard that took her?"
Folk stood in small clumps, watching warily from a distance.
Before Cameron could stop her, Jeannie marched up and confronted the man. "Hush your shouting, Grandad. I was not stolen! I left of my own free will, as you very well know."
He swung unsteadily around to face her and scanned her up and down, taking in her fashionable dress, the yellow flowers, her blue shawl. The look on his face darkened. "Look at you in your fancy clothes, flaunting your bosom before the world, ye shameless wee hoor! Ye're coming hame wi' me, where ye belong." He reached out to grab her but Jeannie, anticipating the move, skipped out of reach.
She glanced at Cameron, and made a gesture for him to stay back, saying in a low voice, "He's my grandfather. I'll handle him."
Cameron gave her a curt nod and stepped back, glowering. It went against the grain to leave this drunken bastard to her. Ewan Leith was a dour, bitter, bad-tempered man who'd taken the poorest of care of his young orphaned granddaughter—out on the hills with the sheep in all weather, clothed in rags and keeping her half starved with his miserly ways.
He itched for an excuse to give Leith the hiding he deserved. But he was an older man, and Jeannie's only living relative. If she wanted to deal with him, he would respect that. To a point.
"Calm down, Grandad, I'm perfectly well, as you can see. But I'm no' coming home wi' ye." She spoke calmly, reasonably—trying to put a good face on it for the sake of their audience, Cameron realized. Acting as though her grandfather had come out of concern for her. He doubted anyone was fooled.
The old man scowled. "Who's goin' to cook for me, then? Who'll mind the sheep?"
"You can cook for yourself. You can mind the sheep," she said evenly. "You did it before I came to live with you, and you can do it now."
"Ye shameless wee besom — ye owe it to me. You have a, a duty to me. I'm your grandfather!"
"I know. But I'm a married woman now, Grandad, and I have a duty to my husband."
Cameron watched, ready to jump in if necessary, but proud of the cool way Jeannie was handling the man, not entering into his argument, but firmly restating her position. Aye, she was going to make a grand laird's lady. He could see from the expressions on his people's faces that they thought the same.
Ewen Leith snorted. He peered past Jeannie, to where Cameron stood by, arms folded. "Ye're the one who stole her away, are ye?"
"I'm the man who married her. Cameron Fraser, laird of this castle."
"Ye had nae right. She's mine, my only grandchild. She belongs tae me!" He gestured dramatically at his chest and staggered a few steps backwards.
"Nonsense! I'm of an age to make my own decisions," Jeannie said briskly. "Now, I'm married and I'm no' going back, so stop this fuss and come along inside and have a nice cup of tea and something to eat." She went to take his arm and lead him inside, but he flung her off violently, almost knocking her to the ground.
Cameron caught her before she fell. He set her carefully aside, then turned and poked her grandfather hard in the chest. "Lay a finger on my wife again, old man, and I'll not be answerable for the consequences."
"Your wife," Leith sneered. "She's nothing but a hoor, you'll see. Running after any man she finds. She'll lie down with any man who asks her. I know, I've seen what she got up to in the hills when she thought I wasna watching."
Jeannie gasped with indignation. A murmur ran through the watching castle folk.
Cameron's fist flew out and hit Leith on the jaw with a crack that sent the old man staggering. "That's a filthy lie and you know it, you evil-minded old miser. My wife came to her marriage bed a virgin." He reached out and drew Jeannie to his side in a quick one-armed hug. He glanced at the listening crowd and added, "As the sheets testified."
He let that sink in, then added, "One more word, Leith, and I'll beat you to a pulp. Grandfather or not, no-one disrespects my wife." He stepped back, breathing heavily.
