Just Beyond Tomorrow by Bertrice Small Page B

yer a slattern. Now show me to my chambers, Mary More-Leslie.” Flanna knew enough from her sister-in-law, Una Brodie, to know she must exhibit immediate and firm authority over those who served her or lose control of her household. Her gaze never left that of the older woman.
    Mary finally looked away and, turning, said, “This way, my lady. We were nae expecting a bride, and so ’twill nae be in readiness; but we’ll manage tonight. Tomorrow is another day, eh?”
    The Duke of Glenkirk looked on in surprise as Mary meekly led Flanna and her female servant away. He turned, and Angus was also gone. Sultan wreathed about his ankles. Patrick Leslie sat back down in his chair. The cat leapt into his lap and settled itself.
    â€œWell, Sultan,” he said, “what think ye of yer new mistress? I think, wi’out meaning to, I hae found me a verra fine wife.” A day. He had known her only a day. He had learned she was brave and practical. She seemed to enjoy his lovemaking. She appeared honest and loyal. It was as good a basis as any to begin a marriage. Still, there was much, much more he had to learn about this young woman. He had done a very rash thing by marrying her, he knew.
    Patrick Leslie smiled to himself. What would his mother think of this outspoken Highland girl of not particularly distinguished background? What would his siblings think? He numbered a duke and a marquis among his four brothers. Charlie and Henry led different lives than he led, although now with the difficulties in England, their lives must certainly be disrupted to some extent. Henry would know how to bend without breaking. He would survive with barely a wrinkle in his silken breeches, and his family as well. Henry was seven years his senior, and while he had been a kindly elder brother, he had had little time for Patrick Leslie.
    His brother Charlie, however, was a different matter. The not-so-royal Stuart was only three and a half years older than Patrick Leslie. He had always had time for his little brother and, consequently, was closer to Patrick than even his two younger Leslie brothers, Adam and Duncan. What was happening to Charlie amid all the strife? He had always been devoted to his father’s family. Had Prince Henry been permitted to wed with the widowed Marchioness of Westleigh as his mother was then titled, Charlie would have been England’s king when old James had died. But Charlie didn’t care if he was king or not. He had been as loyal to the royal Stuarts as any legitimately born son would have been. News filtered slowly into the eastern Highlands. They hadn’t even known of the king’s execution until late spring. Where was Charlie now? “God keep ye safe, brother,” the duke whispered to himself.
    â€œMy lord.” Angus was by his side. “The cook will hae the supper ready shortly. I hae spoken wi’ him. Meals will be served on time in the future. Nae one was certain when ye would return, and hence the delay.” He gave the duke a faint bow. “Shall I tell her ladyship, or will ye?”
    Patrick Leslie stood up, placing Sultan on the floor as he did so. “I will tell her,” he replied. “I am happy to hae my house in such safe hands now. Thank ye.” He walked from the hall.
    Angus now took a moment to look about him. Flanna had done well despite her best efforts to avoid the responsibility accorded her sex. She was wild like her mother that way, although only he could remember Meg Gordon’s stubborn nature. Lachlann Brodie had been entranced with her and found her willfulness amusing. But the old Brodie had kept his promise to his dying wife, although how he would have done it but that the Duke of Glenkirk had fallen into their laps, Angus didn’t know. Still, it was done now. Flanna was both a duchess and a countess with this marriage.
    Angus knew a great deal more about the duke and his family than Patrick Leslie would have