Reckless Scotland

by Vane, Victoria

  “MacGregor,” Glinda muttered. “Saints, tell me that boy has not stolen any more women? Your brother shall be the death of us.”

  Even though Aaron had treated her poorly since her arrival, Mairi ground her teeth at his disparagement. ’Twas not as if he were given much a choice in the matter the prior year when Longford murdered Aaron’s father and forced him into a situation out of his control. Without a doubt, Connor would’ve joined his father had his brother not carried out Longford’s foul demands.

  With a scowl, Connor straightened his shoulders. “You know better than to speak such drivel, Glinda. Aaron has done naught but sacrificed for this clan. He would never harm us. You’d do well to remember that.”

  “As you say.” Rolling her eyes, she cut a harsh glare at Gertie. “Why are you here?”

  “I’ve come on behalf of my mistress.” Gertie crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “There’s a matter we wish to discuss.”

  Mairi blurted, “Nay, I’m not—”

  “Oh?” Glinda mirrored her sister’s stance. “And what would that be?”

  “We’ve come to speak of the fare served in the hall.”

  Glinda lifted her chin and narrowed her beady eyes to tiny slits. “What of it?”

  Sweet Mother, would the two sisters come to blows over naught but a handful of words?

  Compelled to defuse the mounting tension, Mairi stepped around Connor and affixed a smile to her lips. She attempted to charm the cantankerous woman. “While we appreciate the efforts you’ve taken to serve the hall each day, we merely wished to ask if you might consider better seasoning for the fare you prepare. Surely, a dash of herbs and spices might enhance the flavor?”

  Glinda swept an assessing eye over her from head to toe. “Mayhap, but ’tis not your place to tell me how to cook in my kitchens, is it?” Her head bobbed from side to side as she spoke. “I’ve worked in these kitchens since I was a young lass, and I’ve never once received a speck of gratitude for the countless years of work I’ve done. Instead, I’ve gotten naught but grief and headaches from an arse of a laird before the damned English stormed through my kitchens”—she flapped an arm at the row of women preparing food—“trussed us up in the buttery, and murdered the old fool.” She pointed a gnarled finger at Connor. “And now your brother refuses to acknowledge his clan. For more than a year, we’ve had neither guidance, nor steadying words from him. In fact, we’ve had naught but silence. If you ever catch sight of the man in the first place. How much more must we endure? How much more shall we be beaten down? The clan worsens in his absence and you worry with how the damned food’s seasoned?”

  The vehemence in the woman’s speech stunned Mairi. In some inexplicable way, she sympathized with the cook’s well-founded anger.

  Why did Aaron not speak with the MacRaes? Had he merely turned his back on his clan? His actions or lack thereof suggested that was precisely what he’d done. ’Twas hard to reconcile that the man she’d known the year before would act in such a disgraceful manner. The Aaron she’d once met would have done anything within his power to ease the burden on his clan.

  She cast a glimpse at Connor to gauge his reaction. With slumped shoulders, he stared ahead at the fire across the chamber in mute silence, his obvious unease with the cook’s words evident.

  At a loss with how to address Glinda’s rightful frustrations, Mairi peered at Gertie, meeting her dejected gaze. On this matter, it appeared Gertie would not argue with her sister, which disheartened Mairi even more. Searching her mind for words adequate to soothe the cook’s complaints, she faced Glinda, opening her mouth to speak, but Gertie breeched the strained hush.

  “I’ve always appreciated your hard work, Glinda. Not for one day have I ever thought ’twas an easy task.” Dropping her arms at her sides, Gertie paced closer. “’Tis truth, I miss the foods you used to cook when we were younger.”

  The deep grooves in Glinda’s wrinkled face eased a fraction. “You do?”

  Sensing a shift in the charged air, Mairi seized her chance. She asked Gertie, “Your sister’s a fair cook?”

  “Better than fair,” Gertie asserted with a nod. “Glinda’s the best cook I know.”

  Mild surprise shifted over the cook’s features. “In truth?”

  Gertie snorted. “Of course, you stubborn woman. What I would not give for a few of your sweet oatcakes. I’ve not tasted them in years.”

  To Mairi’s surprise, Glinda’s cheeks lifted with an honest to God smile.

  “Well, mayhap, if you did not argue with me at every turn,” the cook scolded. Swiping her hands over her apron, she glanced around the kitchens. “I suppose it would be no trouble to make a batch or two.”

  Gertie said, “I would like that.”

  With a level of caution, Mairi moved closer to the two sisters. “Truly, I meant no offense, Glinda. I’m sorry you and your clan have endured so much. ’Twas foolish of me to stride into your kitchens, making assumptions and demands of you. I merely wished to help in some way while I’m here.” She shrugged. “After tasting Gertie’s flavored honey in my porridge, I thought enhancing the fare in some ways might bring a small measure of contentment to your clan.”

  Glinda darted a glance at her sister. “You let her try it?”

  With a sheepish grin, Gertie nodded.

  “’Tis my concoction, you know,” Glinda informed Mairi. The old cook paced closer and gazed up at her. “Now that I understand your intentions, I must agree with you, lass. ’Twas remiss of me not to take better care of my clan. I’ll admit I’ve allowed naught but sheer stubbornness to guide my actions of late.”

  “I can attest to that,” Gertie added.

  Glinda tossed her a scowl. “Do not push me, Sister.”

  Cackling in amusement, Gertie enveloped her twin in a hearty embrace.

  Mairi could not help but smile at the exchange. ’Twas refreshing to witness the power of a few kind words. She peered over her shoulder at Connor, but the lad had slipped from the kitchens without a sound.

  Shaking her head, she blew out a puff of air. There was a great deal of work ahead of her if she had any hopes of helping the MacRae brothers sort out their troubles.

  Chapter Ten

  Later that eve, Mairi surveyed the hall with a satisfied smile, noting the contented faces of the MacRaes seated around trestle tables. Between stuffing their mouths, a buzz of chatter rose from the clan as they remarked on the evening meal Glinda had served. After her and Gertie’s discussion with the cook earlier in the day, Glinda prepared an outright feast in comparison to her usual, tasteless fare.

  A host of foods ranging from a delicious pottage of fish, vegetables, herbs and spices in a savory broth, to roasted mutton, accompanied with freshly-baked breads filled each occupied trestle table in the hall. The woman even presented a sampling of sweet treats, including the cakes Gertie requested.

  ’Twas pleasant to spy something other than melancholy in the MacRaes’ countenances. Of course, if Aaron had joined his clan, that might’ve improved matters. Alas, the man was absent from the hall once again, giving more weight to Glinda’s words. Though, the absence of another familiar face troubled her more.

  Connor.

  She’d not caught sight of him since he’d quietly fled the kitchens that morn. She could not fathom why his feelings should bother her, but they did.

  In truth, she’d not fully forgiven the lad for his deception or placing her kin at risk to rescue her. Despite the fact he’d nearly grown into a full-fledged man, he was still young and foolhardy, which reflected in his thoughtless actions. Even if his intentions were pure.

  Shaking her head, she lifted her tankard and swallowed a mouthful of ale. ’Twas foolish of her to wish to help the MacRae brothers, but that was a fault of her disposition. The odd need to seek the goodness in everyone compelled her. Granted, her bold nature and rash words had gotten her into her fair share of trouble on more than one occasion, as it’d nearly done with Glinda.

  With a fu
ll belly, she pushed away her empty trencher and focused on Niall, who was seated across the table. The big man took care to allow Kate the choicest bits of fare from their shared trencher. ’Twas obvious to anyone with eyes that he cared for the comely, blonde maid. And if Kate’s reddened cheeks were any indication, she, too, shared affection for the man.

  “Niall, have you seen Connor this eve?” Mairi grabbed a sweet cake from the platter between them. “I’ve not seen him since this morn.”

  His brows tugged a fraction lower. “Nay, I’ve not seen him. Mayhap, he’s with Aaron.”

  Speaking of the other brother, she asked in genuine curiosity, “Does he ever dine in the hall?”

  Since her arrival, she’d not witnessed Aaron step foot in the hall once.

  “Nay, my lady,” Kate answered her query. “He tends to keep to himself. Though, Connor dines with us each eve. ’Tis unlike him to miss a meal.”

  Just as Mairi suspected. With his hasty departure, she’d surmised Glinda’s words had affected the young man in some manner.

  She asked Niall, “Where do you suppose I might find Connor?”

  With a slight narrowing of his gaze, Niall hesitated to speak. He displayed an unflinching loyalty to the brothers. Though, she’d noticed that the redhead struggled with the weight of feminine stares, which she was not above exploiting.

  In a pleading tone, she begged, “Please, Niall?”

  He huffed out an exasperated gust of air. “When he’s in a bit of a mood, if I had to guess…I might check the stables.”

  “In truth?” She lifted a dubious brow.

  “Aye.” Niall shrugged. “He enjoys caring for the horses.”

  “Thank you, Niall.” She smiled and stood, pushing her chair backward. “I shall not divulge you told me.”

  “My lady, if you plan to step outside, then bundle up tight,” he warned. “Though the snow has stopped, the sea wind is biting this eve.”

  Nodding her thanks, she grabbed a handful of Glinda’s sweet oatcakes, bundling them in one of the linen cloths on the table. She explained to the others, “I thought he might care for a taste.”

  Once she donned her fur-lined mantle and wrapped another thick fur around her shoulders, she hastened out in the cold toward the stables. Niall was not mistaken in the least. The sea wind cut straight to the bone. She exerted quite a bit of force barring the stable doors against the wind.

  Within the safety of the stable walls, two lanterns added a soft glow to the dim interior. Aside from the whining wind and the stray clack of a horse’s hoof, the enclosure sat in a calm stillness.

  “Connor,” she called out.

  Mairi waited a few moments but received no answer. She nearly turned around and retreated to the warmth of the keep, but the young man’s muttered affirmation halted her.

  Padding toward the stall in the rear corner, she peeked over the railing. Inside, Connor passed a bristled brush through his gelding’s mane.

  “You should not be out here.” He paused long enough proffer a sullen frown in her direction. “What are you doing, Mairi?”

  His doleful features jabbed at her soft heart. “Searching for you.”

  Connor grunted. “Why?”

  “I did not see you at the evening meal.” She extended her hand, offering him the bundled cloth of sweets. “I thought you might like to try Glinda’s cakes.”

  “So, your plan worked, eh?” He patted his gelding and strode from inside the stall, latching the postern behind him.

  Mairi shrugged. “You might’ve seen had not you left in such a hurry.” She offered the cakes once more. “Here. I brought them for you.”

  For a moment, she thought he might refuse, but he accepted the bundle from her and tossed the brush into a leather satchel along the railing. ’Twas fair to say he was in a poor mood, if the rigid set of his shoulders and the firm line of his mouth were any indication.

  Without a word, he eased down on a pile of hay outside the pen and crossed his legs. He flicked a glance at her and tipped his head for her to join him. She would rather not. But she sensed his need to speak, even if she had to pry the words from him. With a bit of reluctance, she settled on the prickly straw beside Connor.

  For a while, they merely sat in silence, listening to the chorus of howls outside the stable doors. In good time, Connor unwrapped the bundle and lifted a cake to his mouth, nibbling on the edge. Swallowing, he snorted softly. “I see why Gertie likes them.”

  Mairi shifted to face him, studying his downcast profile. ’Twas remarkable how much he resembled his brother. “Why were you not in the hall this eve?”

  Staring at the cloth in his lap, he finished the last bite of his cake. With a furrowed brow, he craned his neck to meet her gaze. “Do you think my brother is as wretched as Glinda says?”

  At first, the question caught her off guard. ’Tis truth, she was unsure what she thought of Aaron of late. While she understood the cook’s anger, there were matters Mairi did not quite fully grasp. ’Twas unfair of her to assign blame to Aaron without knowing what troubled the man. Surely, something must. Though, she agreed with Glinda in regard to one matter. Aaron needed to step into his role as laird, whether he wished to or not. His clan needed him, as did his brother.

  “Nay, I do not think him terrible. Neither does Glinda. But, I do believe he must speak to the clan. ’Tis evident the lack of leadership weighs on them. I think it weighs on you, too.”

  Taking a bite of the second cake, he mumbled around a mouthful, “It does.”

  “Then why does he ignore them?” In truth, she genuinely wished to learn the answer.

  Connor swallowed his bite and studied the remainder resting in his palm. “He does not speak much of his concerns to me, but I know he believes he’s unworthy of the position of laird. Truth is, he’s ashamed to face our clan. He feels as though he’s let them down for too long.”

  She struggled to understand. “But why?”

  Sucking in a deep breath, Connor set the cake aside and shifted to face her. “He holds himself responsible for the hardships that have befallen our clan under my father’s rule. So, he wallows in his shame and guilt. ’Tis unbearable for me to witness.” He waved a hand at her. “Then there’s the matter of you and MacGregor’s wife.”

  “But none of that was his fault,” she affirmed. “Neither Arabella nor I blame him for the actions he took to spare your life.”

  “I know that,” he muttered. “But, he does not listen to a word I speak. He believes he should’ve challenged our father to remove him as laird. I’ve tried to make him understand there was no stopping our father. If Aaron would’ve tried, our father might’ve imprisoned him, or worse, killed him. The horrid man’s death was the only good to come from the whole accursed affair with Longford.”

  “What of me?” She nudged him with her elbow.

  He tilted his head in confusion.

  Mairi grinned. “The two of you met me.”

  He released a humorless snort. “Look where that’s gotten you.”

  She swatted his knee. “Barring your falsehood and your brother’s insufferable moods, I have never regretting meeting either of you. Even now, I’m pleased to see you both again. Though, I might’ve preferred better circumstances, but what’s done is done.”

  As was the young man’s habit, he speared her with his dark, soulful gaze—a gaze that had glimpsed far too much misfortune for his age. “I vow I never meant to cause you or anyone else problems by bringing you here, Mairi. Please, believe me when I say, Aaron is truly a decent, honorable man.” He placed a hand to his chest as if to accentuate his words. “Despite his recent behavior, he truly cares for you. More than he will allow himself to admit.”

  The earnest words clutched at her chest, giving her heart a hopeful squeeze. “I wish I could believe that, but I’m not so certain, Connor.”

  “’Tis true.” He scooted closer and placed a hand over hers. “He’s spoken of you a little to me. I see the spark enter his eyes when he
speaks of you. No matter how he’s tries, he cannot hide the truth from me. ’Twas foolish but I thought by bringing you here that I might somehow save both of you.”

  The steady thump in her chest quickened to a thudding patter. “Save us? How—”

  “When I heard word you were to marry another, I could not believe my ears. I was sure you cared for my brother. How could you have forgotten him so easily and fallen in love with another?” His gaze shifted to his lap and he shook his head. “’Twas ridiculous of me to believe I could unite the two of you.”

  For a moment, she closed her eyes, absorbing his words. Struck with the urge to ease his burden, she admitted the truth of her upcoming nuptials. “I do not love Patrick MacEwan.”

  His head snapped up, his gaze searching hers. “Then why are you marrying him?”

  Though it pained her to admit, she confessed her greatest fear. “So I shall not end up alone.”

  “But, you’re not alone. What of your family?”

  The lad was too young to comprehend the burden she carried on her shoulders. Or better yet, the burden she placed on her kin’s shoulders.

  “My family has found love and started families of their own. ’Tis not their place to care for me for the rest of my life. I should’ve wed long before now and spared my brother the responsibility.”

  “But Aaron—”

  “Nay, Connor.” Her voice climbed. “Not one single day in more than a year has your brother made any effort to seek me out. You speak of feeling foolish. What of me? Do you have any notion how often I’d hoped he would come for me? That he’d somehow find a way to get word to me. But, naught.” She ground her teeth in frustration as the sting of tears burned in her eyes. “How long was I to wait?”

  He grasped her hands in his. “My brother never came because he feels he does not deserve you or your love.”

  Mairi’s heart stuttered over several beats while Connor’s words spun in her head. Did the young man speak the truth? She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Why would he think such?”