Blair shook her head. “I dinna think so. Edward and Fingal willna meddle where they arenae needed. Ma da kens Edward well, and I’ve met him several times. He’s austere, but he is reasonable. Fingal can be a hothead from what Cairstine used to say, but he always has a strategy. There’s naught for them to gain. They’re more likely to come to yer aid if it’ll keep the peace and keeps any clan in the Chattan Confederation off their land.”
“Mayhap. Someone here has also shared that we married. I havenae heard any whispers that people ken at Tor, but it canna be long before they do. They’ll wonder why ye’re here and nae by ma side.”
“That doesnae worry me as much as a tunnel. Is it coming from Tor, or does it start here? Do they intend to connect the keeps, or will it come out somewhere?” Blair reread parts of the missive, since it was too much to take in at one time.
“They’re right that I can count the coins in front of me, but I still have a hard time doing the sums,” Hardi admitted, frustrated with his own lack of knowledge. “And nay one has kept the ledgers since ma aunt died. I have nay idea what should or shouldnae be there. I dinna even ken things like how much food we should store for winter. Or how much food the keep goes through in a sennight, a moon, a year. I dinna ken any of that. Ma uncle never mentioned aught aboot that.”
“Can ye bring me the ledgers? The household accounts along with the clan’s?” Blair asked. “I can sort through that. Is the clan’s coin kept somewhere that many people ken? Ye need to move it sharpish.”
“Only members of the council are supposed to ken where it’s kept, but that doesnae mean that’s the case. Obviously.”
“Even though we dinna ken who’s exchanging missives, we ken someone in yer clan can read other than Faolán and Drostan. They’re both away, and yet someone sent a missive to Tor, and it sounds like one was sent here after yer cousins left.”
“Faolán’s wife died several years ago giving birth to a stillborn daughter. He doesnae have any legitimate children, but he has several illegitimate ones in the village. If he became laird, he has nay legitimate heirs. Drostan never married and has been more careful than Faolán.”
“Who is after ye in line? Is it Faolán and then Drostan?” Blair had never thought to ask. She supposed because teaching Hardi to read and write was more pressing, and then once they planned to marry, she assumed she’d bear his heir.
“I dinna ken, to be honest. That’s why I wondered why Faolán was so eager. He would have nay legacy to pass on unless he insisted one of his bastards inherit. If the clan was desperate enough, they would agree. That’s why the clan council has urged me to take a wife. Kenning I’ve married should put them at ease, but if someone—more than someone—seeks to kill me, then I dinna want to bring ye to Tor. If it isnae safe for me, then ye are even more at risk. I canna ensure yer safety if I’m dead.”
“Will ye let me write to ma da? If Lachlan were coming, he would have arrived at Tor by now. Nay messenger has come from court to deliver ma parents’ missives. Hardi, I think we should ask Da’s advice. It sounds like we have a few sennights before they intend to make a move. If the tunnel runs into Tor, then it’s a direct attack. They’ll invade from the inside. If it leads from Inverlochy, it’ll be a surprise siege. Whoever it is will move warriors without being seen. Either way, we have enough time for me to send and receive a message from Da.”
“Aye. I’ll send Bran with it. The weather has been good, so he should be there in five days’ time.”
“He can be back in a fortnight. That isnae that long. In the meantime, bring the ledgers, and we must continue yer lessons. But we need to do it in Scots. Either the people corresponding canna read or write Latin, or they dinna see the need since they mean these to be private.”
“Will learning Scots be easier?” Hardi’s head hurt at the thought of trying to learn to read and write yet another language.
“It should be. Ye already speak it.” Blair grinned as she leaned to whisper. “With the most seductive burr I have ever heard.”
“Seductive is it?” Hardi switched from Gaelic to Scots. He watched as Blair’s chest rose with a deep inhale, and her lips parted. “Come here, wife.”
Hardi pulled back his plaid to show his fully aroused length. Blair gathered her skirts but waited for Hardi to guide her, unsure of what to do. Blair gasped at the feel of her sheath slipping down his sword. The new position made her moan as Hardi’s hands held her hips beneath her skirts. He showed her how to rock against him and slide up and down his cock.
“They got one thing right. I feel like a stallion, and ye’re the only one who can tame me. I shall insist we go for a ride every day.” Hardi thrust into Blair as she held his shoulders to keep her balance. He pulled her kirtle down over her shoulder, and she lifted her breast free, offering it to Hardi’s open mouth. If it weren’t imperative that they finish quickly, it would have embarrassed Hardi at how soon he climaxed. He’d held out to ensure Blair enjoyed their new position, but he hadn’t lasted but two more thrusts before he clamped her hips in place as he filled her channel.
“Are ye returning to Tor now?” Blair wondered.
Hardi’s forehead furrowed. “Do ye think I will couple with ye and then ride away? Ye’re ma wife, nay a leman or a wench.”
“What?” Blair couldn’t follow his train of thought. “Oh! That isnae what I thought. I figured that now ye kenned what the missive said, ye would need to return to Tor, so nay one wonders where ye went. I didna think ye used me.” Blair smiled softly into Hardi’s concerned face.
Hardi relaxed as he brushed back a strand of hair attached to Blair’s eyelashes. “I dinna decide aught without ye now, Blair. What do ye think we should do?”
Blair kept her hands on Hardi’s shoulders and sat back, adjusting her position as she considered his question. “I would pretend that ye dinna ken any of this. Go aboot yer business as ye have been. We’ll send the missive to Da and see if he responds. I have to tell him that we handfasted.”
“I want to do that part. In ma own words and ma own hand, even if it isnae perfect,” Hardi interrupted.
“Bring me the ledgers when ye can. And if ye canna bring me the money to count, find somewhere else to hide it. Dinna tell anyone. Try to avoid discussing finances with the council if ye can.”
“I’ll be back this eve once it’s dark. Can we begin ma lessons after ye review the ledgers? I’m impatient to learn. Even more than I was before.”
“Will ye come through the main doors of the keep? Willna that make people suspicious aboot why ye keep coming here? If ye want to bed me that often, people will want to ken why ye dinna take me to Tor. They willna think it’s because ye are trying to keep me safe. They’ll say ye have a reason for hiding me.”
“I’ll come over the southern wall and up the tree outside yer chamber.”
“Ye’ll never fit! Yer shoulders will get stuck,” Blair giggled.
“Then I will find a way to get to yer chamber. Dinna suggest meeting me somewhere. I dinna want ye traipsing around the keep at night. And dinna say ye’ll bring yer guards. That wouldnae be inconspicuous at all.”
“Do ye have a plain hunting plaid? The red will stick out if anyone spies it in torchlight.”
“I have one of ma father’s. It’s old and faded. The colors are muted, so they will look almost like the blues in the MacDonald pattern. If I canna make it to yer chamber, I will find Donald or Tomas to get ye. I will have them stand separate watches tonight. I willna say I suspect aught specific, just that I dinna want their routines to be too predictable.”
“Then ye should go now. Ye need to make yer day look as normal as possible.” Blair dropped a swift kiss on his lips. “Ye ken I would spend every minute of the day with ye, but ye canna come here during the day anymore. Yer clan will ask questions, and ye’ll draw too much attention, and people will want ye to explain why ye ride out if nae on patrol.”
“And willna people talk here if I suddenly appear to have abandoned ye? Par
t of whoever’s plan this is, is counting on me being distracted with ye.”
“Then we find a happy middle. Ye visit every night that ye can, but only visit during the day a few times a sennight. Change up the days just like ye want ma guards to switch up theirs.”
“Can ye be laird, and I’ll just be on yer arm and look bonny?” Hardi teased. “If I didna want ye so much as ma wife, I would say ye should have been born a mon. But that makes it sound as though being a woman isnae of the same value. So bluidy irritating.”
“Mo chridhe, ye are a mon ahead of yer times.” Blair gave him a smacking kiss before shifting to climb off Hardi’s lap. “Now go. I love ye.”
“I love ye, mo ghaol.” Hardi tipped Blair’s chin up, and this kiss was languid and unrushed.
Thirty-Five
Hardi and Blair developed a routine over the next fortnight. Hardi brought the ledgers to Blair the night he returned after they formulated their loose plan. She tried to hide her dismay at how barely anything had been recorded for more than a year. Hardi explained that his housekeeper Mordag could only make tick marks under columns, but the older woman wasn’t sure whether she placed them in the correct columns since she couldn’t understand the words written on each page. Blair bit back her tongue that at least she could have kept the tallies in columns and rows rather than randomly scribbled. She used pieces of her own parchment to replicate the information, but with accurate counts in an orderly script. She warned Hardi that she couldn’t know for sure whether each tally represented only one item or that the tallies were on the correct pages.
Blair did nothing to soften the blow that there was far too little food being stored for winter. Hardi tugged at his hair as he explained that he’d raised the same concerns, but the council assured him that they spent as much as they dared and that the crops would yield enough in the fall to overcome what looked like a shortfall. Blair coaxed him out of self-recrimination when she reminded him that he’d been laird for barely two months and that he couldn’t blame himself for the lies and deceit.
That same night, Hardi struggled but wrote a missive to Hamish and Amelia explaining he and Blair handfasted, apologizing for not waiting to hear their response. He explained as much as he dared in a missive about why Blair remained at Inverlochy and what concerned him at Tor Castle. He made his request for advice clear. Blair offered no suggestions, only answering his questions about spelling and the use of certain words. When Hardi finished, Blair’s beaming face expressed her pride, and she dragged him to the bed where she made certain he understood how proud she was.
It took Hardi three days before he could bring Blair the clan’s money. The council discussed the clan’s finances just as Hardi prepared to take them to Blair. He was impatient to hide the funds from the very men who promised him that the clan was in good standing. From what he’d been able to count, the clan was in a suitable position financially, and they could pay the outstanding taxes. But he was uncertain whether they would remain comfortable afterward. He pointed out his concerns, but the council assured him that the clan had survived worse. Hardi shared with Blair that he didn’t want the Camerons to just survive. He didn’t want to worry about having enough resources.
Blair had opened the sacks Hardi brought, quickly adding the coinage before her. But she insisted Hardi count it himself and that he recorded the amounts of each denomination along with the total amounts. She considered it part of his ongoing lessons. She thought back to what her mother said a clan should keep in reserve and how much a chatelaine could expect to spend in preparation and during winter. Blair also pushed aside the amount allotted for the taxes. Once the couple saw what remained, neither spoke for several minutes. There was far too little left for reserve.
When they finished counting, they discussed where he would hide the money. “I want ye to ken in case aught happens to me. I dinna trust anyone else, and I dinna want to write it down in case someone discovers it.”
“Where will ye put it?” Blair asked as they sat crossed legged, facing one another on the bed.
“I have a locked chest that was ma parents’ that I will use. Nay one else will have a key. Uncle Farlane said there was a hollowed brick in the laird’s chamber where he stored missives. I found it, but there wasna aught there. Either he gave me all that he stored there, or someone else found it. It gave me the idea to hollow out a brick in the lady’s chamber. I dinna think anyone will figure that out. The chamber has been empty for a year, and when ye come to Tor, ye can make it into a second lady’s solar, but ye willna occupy it.”
“Willna I?” Blair smirked.
“Nay, ye willna.” Hardi snagged Blair and rolled her onto her back. He spent the rest of the night showing her what they couldn’t do if they had separate chambers.
After an initial rush to examine the Camerons’ financial situation, they settled into sitting before Blair’s fire and discussing the day’s events at Inverlochy and Tor. Blair admitted that since they’d handfasted, her relationship with Robena grew strained. Blair didn’t understand why her handfast concerned Robena, or why anything that transpired between a couple in private could shock the former lady-in-waiting. Hardi suggested that Robena was envious that Blair married a man she wanted, a man close to her age. Blair supposed Hardi was right, but she regretted the distance that grew between her and her only friend.
Hardi’s lessons in Scots progressed far faster than Latin. Already fluent in speaking Scots, reading and writing came more naturally to him. Blair regretted not beginning Hardi’s tutelage with Scots instead of Latin, not only for the practical standpoint but for the self-confidence it built.
Hardi had disagreed. “I need more time to learn Latin, so starting it first made more sense. And Scots feels much easier than Latin, but only because ye already taught me well. I ken how to put the sounds together to read and write them.” He’d ended any regret Blair had by showing her how appreciative he was. Once Hardi’s lessons were through each night, they seized what little time they had left to make love. As the days grew long during the northern summer, it made the hours between sunset and sunrise few. Hardi didn’t correct his clan when they assumed he spent his nights away touring outlying areas of their land. He would return shortly after sunrise, fall into bed for two hours, and then repeat his day. He visited Blair during the day three times during the first week and only twice during the second. Both savored the nights when they didn’t have to wait until dark for them to be together.
“Shouldnae Bran be back by now?” Blair asked Hardi as they lay together in bed. “It’s been a fortnight, and it should have taken him eleven or twelve days round trip. I dinna think he would dillydally there. The weather has been fair most days.”
“I’ve been thinking aboot that for the last couple of days,” Hardi admitted, his thumbnail gliding up and down Blair’s arm as she laid on her side against his chest. “I’m concerned something has happened. He kenned the importance of the missive and yer da’s response. But I dinna ken if he became ill, his horse went lame, someone attacked him. There is plenty that could have gone wrong, and I regret nae sending someone with him. Even if it angered yer da, mayhap I should have sent one of yer guards with him.”
“Did ye remind him that if aught went wrong that he should get to the Munros if he can?”
“Aye. I explained to him that ye and Lady Munro were friends at court and that he should explain his mission. I even told him to share the missive with Cairren and Padraig if there was nay other way.”
“Did ye tell him that the Earl of Ross is ma uncle? Did ye tell him he could stop at Balnagown if need be?”
“Ye ken that I did, mo chridhe. Dinna fash until there is a reason to. We’ll give it a couple more days, and if he doesnae appear, I’ll send Paul out to look for him.”
“How will ye explain to Paul why Bran was headed to Dunrobin?” Blair wondered.
“He discovered I was sneaking away each night and assumed I had a leman. I denied it, but nay matter how many times I
argued his theory, he refused to believe me. I didna want him keeping that assumption and then have ye arrive. I dinna want any rumors going aboot that I’m keeping a woman who isnae ma wife.”
“Does anyone else ken?” Blair rolled onto her belly to look at Hardi.
“I havenae told anyone, but I imagine it’ll get around. I dinna think Paul will gossip, but if he noticed ma absences, then others have too. Even if they dinna ken of ye, they will think what he did. Nae only do I nae want people spreading made up stories that’ll humiliate ye when ye arrive, I dinna want any woman claiming that the rumors are aboot her. I dinna need a woman claiming I favor her, or that I love her, or God forbid, she carries ma bairn.”
Blair’s eyes widened, never having thought of the outcomes Hardi mentioned. Her sense of unease grew with every breath. She sat up; the sheet pulled around her chest and tucked under her chin. Hardi followed her, the sheet pooling at his waist. Even in her distress, she noticed how the muscles rippled along his belly. He eased her against his shoulder, and she wrapped her arm around him.
“Hearing those possible rumors sours ma stomach. It hurts to think anyone would make up such lies, but I heard far worse at court. Tristan Mackay’s former mistress was horrible to Mairghread, and Callum didna learn aught from it. His own mistress tried to run off his bride after he severed ties. We’re lucky naught happened to Siùsan.” Blair turned her face toward his chest. “And it makes me feel so possessive and competitive and jealous. I dinna want to feel this way. It’s ugly. But I canna help feeling like I would tear apart any woman who tried to lay claim to ye. I have never felt compelled to violence before, but those possibilities drive me there.”
Blair felt the deep rumble of laughter in Hardi’s chest and looked up. She didn’t appreciate the humor on his face. He dropped a quick, hard kiss before grinning at her. “Nae only would ye make an excellent laird with yer intelligence and wisdom, ye’d make a fierce warrior. I can see ye standing in the village beating the hilt of yer sword against yer targe, challenging any woman who dared to come out and take ye on.”
A Saint at the Highland Court: A Friends to Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 6) Page 22