The sight of her still jolted something inside of him each time he looked upon her comely features. Truth be told, ’twas ridiculous and naught but a pain in his arse.
A range of emotions flickered over her flushed features. “Then how am I to leave? I was supposed to depart this morn.”
He narrowed his eyes. How had she arrived at that conclusion after their discussion in the stables? If there was a way to take her safely down the cliff, he’d see to the matter without a second thought. But alas, there was not.
“I’m afraid ’tis not possible, Mairi. You must wait until enough of the snow and ice thaws and the passage is safe to travel.”
“I told her as much, Aaron,” Connor cut in.
Aaron directed a warning glare at his brother, and the lad sagely chose to snap his mouth shut.
“But for how long?” she cried in dismay. “What of my family?”
He understood her alarm. He’d felt the full force of the emotion last eve when he’d realized she was stuck there with him and his clan. She wished to leave, and he wished much the same. Alas, they’d reached a stalemate because neither of them would get their wish.
As for her brother…Saints, Aaron should’ve heeded his first hunch and barred the damned door.
“After the snowfall eased this morn, Niall checked the pass. Your brother and his men attempted to reach the top, but a portion of the trail crumbled apart and fell to the valley below.”
Gasping, she lifted a hand to her chest. The blood drained from her cheeks. “Are they…”
“Saints, nay,” he rushed to explain. “They made it to the base without harm. Unfortunately, ’tis why the pass is no longer safe to travel until we can see the extent of the damage.” ’Twas galling to admit the harsh truth, but he did so through gritted teeth. “Could take a fortnight before we can manage safe travel.”
“A fortnight?” Her shrill shout bore in his ears. “But, I cannot remain here that long.”
Her distressed features jabbed at his chest, but he shoved aside his concern. “If there were another way, then I would gladly lead you to it. Alas, there is none. I’m sorry, Mairi. I vow as soon as the pass opens I shall send a messenger ahead to alert your kin, and make certain you are returned home.”
He knew naught else to say to ease the accursed situation for either of them.
“What am I to do?”
For once, he distinguished something in the pained query that he’d never heard in Mairi’s voice before—utter defeat. He embraced the familiar sentiment with reluctance each day.
Connor warily tapped her shoulder with the tip of his finger. He volunteered in a low tone, “You may make use of my bedchamber, Lady Mairi.”
“Nay,” Aaron blurted with a harsh growl. “She shall remain in mine.”
By all that was holy, what was he doing? He silently cursed himself a fool. Resigned to maintain a healthy distance from the woman, what the devil kind of sense did it make to demand she remain in his chamber—a place he deemed his private sanctuary?
With her brows tugged low, she peered at him, as if weighing his words. At last, she released a shaky breath. “If I’m trapped here, then what am I to do in the meantime?”
Caught unaware by the question, he glanced at Connor who reflected the same confusion.
As if she sensed their bewilderment, she amended, “What am I to do to pass the time?” Wringing her hands, she shook her head. “I cannot remain idle for long.”
Aaron frowned at her request. Saints, how the hell should he know?
Eager to rid himself of the woman, he shrugged. “Do whatever you wish. I care not. Just leave me be.”
Affronted by his suggestion, her brows climbed to her hairline. She opened her mouth to cut a scathing retort. Rather than listen, he chose the coward’s way out and closed the door in her face. Her irate voice, followed by his brother’s calming tone, filtered through the wood.
Dropping his forehead against the door, Aaron closed his eyes. How could such a short encounter with the woman drain the life from him? His entire body ached from his rigid stance and the furled tension in his gut. Why did he allow the woman to affect him in such a manner?
A slight pressure twined between his ankles and pressed against his legs. He opened his eyes and peered at his booted feet. His cat, Ash, stood there, gazing up at him. Rubbing her cheek against his leg, she offered him a faint meow, as if she’d somehow sensed his frustrations.
He reached down and scratched behind her ears. “I know,” he mumbled. “Mayhap, I should try the pass for good measure. With any luck, I’ll plummet over the edge and spare everyone the trouble.”
Chapter Nine
After Mairi dressed in the warm clothing Kate left for her, she bounded down the stairs after dawn, eager to make the most of her day. Aaron had suggested as much, had he not?
Do whatever you wish, the insufferable arse had said.
After learning of her kin’s efforts and the wretched realization she was stuck at the MacRae holding for the time being the morning before, she’d retreated to Aaron’s chamber for the better part of the day. Last eve, she’d lain awake, allowing his careless words to fumble around in her head. While staring at the rafters above the bed, she’d arrived at two choices at last.
Either she could allow herself to sink into despair, worrying over her kin, and languish away in Aaron’s chamber for the duration of her imposed stay, or she could do something worthy with her time.
The sad fact was she’d wasted far too much time pining after a man who’d done naught but spurn her since her arrival. She refused to squander any more. Instead, she would follow his unwitting advice and occupy her time with tasks around the keep. Surely, there were chores that required her aid.
Oh, Aaron had no notion of the allowance he’d permitted her. If anything, he might come to regret his thoughtless words.
She entered the great hall, spotting Gertie and Kate seated at a rear trestle table across from Connor and Niall. As she swept through the hall, she nodded and smiled at curious clan members whose wary gazes watched her every move. In truth, she’d more than likely startled them the morn before with her bold outburst.
Gertie glanced up from her bowl and a wide grin cut grooves in her aging cheeks. “Good morn to you, lass.”
With a shy smile, Kate shoved a covered dish toward Mairi. “I saved you a bowl of porridge, my lady.”
She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the maid’s gracious offering. “Thank you, Kate. That was kind of you.”
Settling on the bench alongside Connor, Mairi lifted the lid and darted a surprised glance at Gertie.
“I took the liberty of adding a bit of my honey. Hope you do not mind.”
Mind? She nearly sprang across the table and kissed the older woman on the cheek. “You most assuredly have my thanks, Gertie.”
The older woman’s kind heart shone through her scowls, barked words, and rough exterior.
She cut a quick glimpse at Connor from the corner of her eye. “Did you manage to find your bed last eve?”
With his mouth set in a pursed line, he flicked her an annoyed glance. “Aye, with no help from you,” he muttered. “I bedded down on the floor of my own damned chamber since Aaron claimed my bed as his own.”
Chuckling at his admission, she grabbed her spoon and dug into her porridge. Once again, the blasted young man had attempted to sneak into her chamber. Though, he’d promptly discovered she’d barred the door. After a few choice, muffled curses, he’d stomped away, leaving her to laugh at his thwarted plans.
“I’m glad to catch the four of you together.” She spoke in between bites of porridge. “I’d hoped to speak with all of you concerning a few matters.”
Each one of them wore varying shades of suspicion. ’Twas as if they held their breaths in dread while awaiting her pronouncement.
Downing another spoonful, she sipped ale from her tankard. She aimed a bright smile at Connor. “After speaking with your brother and a
restless eve, I’ve arrived at a decision.”
“Uh…” Connor asked with a wary tilt of his head. “Such as?”
“As none of you know me well, I would like to explain. For years, I’ve helped around my brother’s keep. Even after he married, Arabella and I shared responsibilities. I’m used to having tasks to occupy my time.”
In truth, after Calum married his wife, Mairi wondered of her place in her brother’s keep. ’Twas a mercy Arabella had never expected her to stand aside and ignore the duties she’d overseen for years. Though, little by little, she surrendered more of her obligations to her brother’s wife, as the softhearted, sensible woman was, in fact, the rightful mistress of the MacGregor Keep. ’Twas the proper course of action for Mairi to take.
But, what would the future yield for her once there was naught left to hand over? Of course, after she married Patrick in the spring, she would become mistress of her own keep. Alas, the notion hardly dampened her dread a sliver.
Shoving aside the unappealing thought, she pasted on a grin. “So, while I have no choice but to remain, I’d hoped to help improve your keep in some ways if I can.”
Connor narrowed his eyes. “I’m not quite certain that’s what Aaron meant, Mairi. I’m sure he merely spoke in haste.”
“Oh, I’m sure he did, but ’tis his problem.” She lifted her chin. “He stated he did not care and I could do as I wished. Therefore, I intend to.”
Gertie and Kate exchanged concerned glances while a stern-faced Niall lowered his red brows in displeasure.
Ignoring the large man, she continued, “I’m more than capable to oversee a few tasks your brother has neglected in his absence from the hall.”
“Do not be so hasty to judge Aaron, my lady,” Niall warned in a gruff murmur.
“Wait a moment, Niall,” Connor said. “I’d like to hear what she has to say. If anything, mayhap, her actions might draw Aaron out.”
Mairi frowned at his words. ’Twas not her intent to goad a reaction from Aaron. “I did not mean—”
“What did you have in mind?” Connor leaned closer.
Niall whacked the young man’s arm. “Your brother shall not like this one bit.”
“Mayhap, he should act as laird in that case.” He waved away Niall’s warning and focused on Mairi. “Please continue. I’m interested to hear your thoughts, my lady.”
A weighted sense of foreboding took up residence in her belly. For a moment, she considered abandoning her plans altogether. But why should she? ’Twas not as if Aaron wanted her there anymore than she wished to remain. If this was the only way she could while away the time until she returned to her family, then so be it.
She nodded at her half-eaten bowl of porridge. “Take the fare, for a start. ’Tis blasted awful.” With a quick glance at Gertie, she amended, “Not with your sweetened concoction but, alone…the food in the hall’s ghastly.”
Leaning forward, Niall propped his elbows on the table. His direct stare bore into her. “As we do not know you, you do not know us either, my lady. Many things remain the way they are for a reason,” he spoke in a hushed, chiding tone. “True, we’re not a wealthy clan like you MacGregor lot by any means. Nor shall we ever be, but with dwindled coffers and resources, we’ve made do with what we have. ’Tis no fault of Aaron’s or anyone else’s in this hall. ’Tis unkind of you to assume we’ve no desire to better ourselves.”
“I would never assume such,” she rushed to soothe the man’s upset. “’Twas not my intent to cause offense, Niall. I understand the difficulties your clan has faced. Believe me when I say, the MacGregors have undergone their fair share over the years. I merely wished to help improve the keep in small ways with the resources you might not realize you already have at hand. At times, a small change or two can make a significant difference.” As evidence, she pushed her bowl across the table toward him. “Try a bite.”
Jerking his head, he leaned away. His eyes briefly widened in surprise before he shook his head. “Nay, thank you.”
“Surely, one bite shall not harm you. You’re a large lad. Come on, you shall survive one, wee bite.”
“Lad?”
Mairi almost laughed at his appalled expression. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and peered at Kate, who ducked her head, hiding a smile behind her hand.
The man had no notion Mairi had learned the tactic of relentless badgering from her irksome cousin, Liam. She would force the spoon down Niall’s throat, if necessary. Inching the dish closer, she urged, with a wink, “Go on. Try it. Just one bite.”
“Saints alive, woman.” Irritated, he grabbed a spoonful and shoved the porridge in his mouth.
Mairi lifted an arm and propped her chin on her hand, watching the moment the sweet flavor reached Niall’s tongue. His dark scowl eased, and he reached for another spoonful.
Grudgingly, he admitted in a low rumble. “’Tis good.”
Pleased to prove her point, she flourished a hand. “There you have it.”
Eyeing the exchange, Connor reclined in his chair. “So, you wish to add honey to the porridge?”
“Well, that and more. Mayhap, a few other changes.”
“What other changes?” Kate asked as curiosity lit her young, pretty features.
Mairi shrugged. “I thought a light spread of rushes might help. Mayhap, even a handful of embroidered cushions, a tapestry or two.”
“The ground’s covered with snow. Where are we to get fresh rushes?” Connor frowned.
“You have a store of herbs, do you not, Gertie?”
The old healer nodded. “I’m certain I could spare a few.”
“That would be most kind of you.” Mairi touched the older woman’s arm. “I’d hope to have your aid with another matter, too.”
The woman quirked a gray brow.
Mairi swallowed her apprehension. “I thought you and Connor might speak to Glinda with me.”
“Me?” Connor blurted.
“Why the devil should I speak to the horrid woman?” Gertie huffed out.
“Because of your knowledge of herbs and spices. Who better to explain how to season fare?” Mairi speared Connor with a look. “And you must speak to her in your brother’s stead.”
“Aye, I know herbs and spices because I’m a healer, not a cook, lass.” She snorted. “Besides, Glinda will not listen.”
“Have you thought of replacing her with another cook?” If the woman was so troublesome, why not?
The four gaped at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses.
“Not if you don’t wish Glinda to poison us,” Kate muttered.
Holy Mother, what was amiss with Glinda?
Since Mairi was a wee child, she’d never shied away from meeting a challenge head on. Why should now be any different?
Determined, she rose to her feet. “Let’s pay her a visit, shall we?”
The four sprang upright in unison, earning the attention of the entire hall. Connor grabbed the sleeve of Mairi’s woolen shirt to halt her.
“Where are you going?” he asked in a furious whisper.
“I wish to meet Glinda,” she explained.
A guffaw slipped from Niall and she peered at the man in surprise. ’Twas the first time he’d muttered a sound of amusement in her short acquaintance with the man. From his harsh demeanor, ’twas doubtful he did so often.
“There are other matters that require my attention.” With a smirk, he stepped away from the trestle table.
Connor spun toward him. “You’re truly leaving?”
“So it would seem,” Niall called out as he stalked from the hall. “Godspeed.”
Annoyed, Connor shifted his glare to Mairi. “You wish to do this, in truth?”
“Aye, or I would not have said so.” Was he scared of the woman? “Where’s your boldness this day? You had no trouble facing a dangerous bluff in a snowstorm.” She snorted. “The clan cook cannot be that terrible.”
“I’d rather face the bluff,” he muttered. “Come on, then. Let’s
get this over with.”
*
Whatever Mairi expected when she entered the kitchens was not the sight that met her. Her steps faltered as she took in the full scene before her. ’Twas utterly spotless and clean, the very definition of order. The savory aroma of baking bread filled the large, dual chambers.
On one end, a handful of maids worked side by side, prepping vegetables, breads and other fare for the evening meal, along a length of scarred tabletop. A massive pot bubbled over the flames in the hearth near the rear entrance. Utensils and cooking instruments neatly lined the walls while labels marked barrels of grain sealed and stored from the elements and vermin. ’Twas the kitchens of woman who knew all about cooking. Of that, Mairi had no doubt.
As soon as she spied a tidy row of phials and jars of countless herbs and spices displayed on shelves, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Despite Niall’s suggestion otherwise, the clan hardly lacked for resources in this particular instance as the man claimed. In fact, the varying assortment of seasonings might even rival that of the MacGregor’s cook, Agnes.
“Where’s Glinda, Moira?” Connor asked a middle-aged woman kneading a sizeable lump of brown dough.
Swiping the back of her hand over her brow, Moira called over her shoulder, “Glinda, Connor wishes to speak with you.”
Moments later, a stout, gray-haired, ruddy-cheeked woman toddled out of the larder, carrying a large, covered container. Familiar deep grooves cut her features into a guise of perpetual annoyance.
’Twas the very same look Mairi had grown accustomed to since her arrival. Unable to hide her astonishment, she gawked at the old woman. She peered between Glinda and Gertie thrice before she found her tongue.
Craning her neck to glance at Gertie, she blurted, “You have a twin sister?”
Gertie tossed her a wry stare, but ’twas Glinda who barked out, “’Tis plain enough to see. And who the devil are you?”
Connor moved in front of Mairi. “Good day to you, Glinda.” He waved a hand behind him. “This is Lady MacGregor. She shall be in residence with us until the pass opens.”
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