What bothered him most was that there was something about Claire that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was something indescribable. Something good.
But he didn’t want good. He wanted easy. He wanted to keep his heart out of it. Willing partners who sought nothing more than a satisfying tumble with him were ideal. For that matter, if he had to marry, he could have tolerated an emotionless marriage to some nobleman’s daughter he’d never met. He’d be perfectly happy with a congenial union in which neither party expected love.
Nay, he didn’t want good. Good things could be loved…and hurt. He didn’t want to love her and he certainly didn’t want to see her hurt.
He would have to stick with his earlier plan to make her decide to refuse the betrothal. And if he couldn’t manage to keep from getting lost in her beautiful eyes, he’d simply do his best stay away from her. It was late summer, there were plenty of things that could require his attention and even take him away from the keep for several days at a time.
If he stayed away from her as much as possible, and when forced to be in her presence, he wasn’t particularly nice to her, it was unlikely she’d look favorably on a betrothal to him
With that resolved, he was finally able to sleep.
~ * ~
The next morning he began making plans to ride out later that day with a group of men to see how the crops fared. If he maneuvered things well, he could make the journey last several days. But when he mentioned it to his father, he was overruled.
“What are ye thinking? Ye can’t leave today. Tomorrow’s the feast of Saint Mary the Blessed.”
In his efforts to avoid Claire Morrison, he had completely forgotten about the feast day. Still, as far as he was concerned, that was even more reason to leave. It would be impossible to absent himself from her at a celebration. “I don’t mind missing the feast, Da.”
“Perhaps ye don’t. But the outlying villages will be celebrating as well and they will not wish to interrupt the festivities to make an accounting to ye regarding the state of the crops. Besides, it’s too early. The harvest won’t start in earnest for several weeks.”
Tavish had to accept the fact that it would be several days or more before he could use that excuse to be away from the castle. It would make avoiding her more difficult, but not impossible. He’d have to see her at mealtimes, but if he were on his guard, he could avoid interacting with her. More importantly, he could keep from looking into the crystal blue depths of her eyes where he knew he could lose himself if he allowed it.
And while his parents grew increasingly annoyed with him, he succeeded.
For one day.
But it was much harder to ignore her on the feast day. He attended Mass with his family, and his parents maneuvered him to Claire’s side. How in the name of all that was holy could kneeling beside a lass, during a religious ceremony honoring the Blessed Virgin, stir such heat within him?
She was beautiful. That was the only possible answer. Kneeling, with her head bowed, whispering prayers only made her more so.
But she was also beautiful sitting at the table, talking and laughing with those around her during the feast. She seemed completely delighted by everything. Perhaps she was trying to be coquettish, to draw his attention. But lassies raised by nuns couldn’t possibly know the first thing about flirting…could they?
Unfortunately, as much as Tavish tried to ignore her, Boyd fell over himself to keep her engaged. “This is one of my favorites, try some of it,” he would say before serving her a bit of whatever he fancied at the moment.
She’d take a delicate bite and then more often than not ask what it was, as if she had never attended a feast and tasted anything like it before.
When she didn’t recognize the flavor of roasted boar, Tavish believed she must be trifling with him. “It’s roasted boar, for the love of God,” he snapped at her. “Don’t tell me ye’ve never tasted boar before.”
She became quiet and looked down, her hands folded in her lap.
If looks were daggers, Boyd shot him one that would have been lethal. Then in a tone dripping with condescension, his baby brother said, “I don’t suppose the sisters go on boar hunts very often, do they, Lady Claire?”
Damn it all to Hell. Boyd was right. Tavish had been so busy trying to dislike her and put her out of his mind, he’d forgotten that she probably hadn’t experienced a feast like this in many years.
However, she seemed to recover quickly, giving Boyd a warm smile. “Nay, Boyd, we never had wild game. When meat was served at the abbey, it came from domestic animals and even then, it was generally salted. I suppose I have probably tasted all of these things when I was a wee lassie, but I don’t remember. Thank you for your help. I don’t think I’ve ever attended such a wonderful feast.”
After that, she kept her head turned away from Tavish and continued to chat with those around her. He had accomplished exactly what he’d wanted to, hadn’t he?
Nay, damn it all. He wanted to put her off, not hurt her feelings.
At a lull in the conversation, he put a hand on her arm, to draw her attention.
She turned towards him, a happy smile on her face that seemed to make her brilliant blue eyes twinkle.
He had no idea why he found her eyes so compelling, but he was unable to do anything but stare.
After a moment in which he couldn’t have formed words if his life depended on it, she asked, “Did ye wish to say something?”
“I…uh…well, I’m sorry I snapped at ye. It was uncalled for. Forgive me.”
She shook her head, her smile never wavering. “Ye needn’t worry. I took no offense.”
Then she turned her attention away again, breaking whatever magic had held him so in thrall.
When the meal was over, he dreaded what came next. The trestle tables were cleared to make room for the dancing. He was not in the mood to dance but maybe she wasn’t either. He watched her surreptitiously. To his dismay, she seemed delighted by the music and dancing.
He wouldn’t ask her to dance. It was churlish behavior, but he wanted her to think him rude. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten about his parents. Both of them glared at him, and signaled none too subtly for him to dance with her.
He sighed and drew her attention again with a light touch on her arm. Only this time, as she turned towards him, he avoided looking into her eyes. “Lady Claire, would ye honor me with a dance?”
She looked longingly at the dancers for a moment before answering. “It’s very kind of ye to ask, but nay, thank ye.”
“Ye don’t wish to dance?” He had trouble keeping the relief he felt out of his voice.
Her wan smile suggested he hadn’t been successful. “I would love to dance, but I don’t really know how.” She shrugged. “Ten years in an abbey, remember?”
“I suppose I could teach ye,” he said, his offer sounding half-hearted to his own ears.
She gave a slight nod of her head. “Perhaps. But it isn’t necessary.”
He frowned and said the words good manners dictated. “I don’t mind.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Has anyone ever told ye, ye can go to Hell for lying just the same as ye can for stealing?”
His jaw fell open at those words. “I…I…”
“The words ye’re searching for are ‘I honestly would rather not dance with ye.’ Ye’ve made that very clear, Sir Tavish, and I don’t mind. Really.” There was no rancor in her words and without sparing him another glance, she turned her attention back to the dancers.
Although her candid statement shocked him, he couldn’t deny feeling thankful…and a bit ashamed.
~ * ~
Well, if Cassie hadn’t been convinced that staying here with the Ranalds before returning to the abbey was her best option, she was now. Tavish was not remotely interested in her. Better, it seemed he wanted nothing to do with her and as far as she was concerned, that was perfect.
She could accept this time in the fourteenth century for exactly what it
was—a gift. A respite from the aching pain of her twenty-first century life. A chance to heal without hurting anyone else. The adventure of a lifetime.
She smiled and allowed the music to wash over her. Thank you, Gertrude.
Chapter 7
Even though she hadn’t left the celebration until the wee hours of the morning, Cassie awoke just shortly after dawn. She didn’t jump out of bed immediately as she might have done at home. She snuggled under the blankets in the early morning chill and just soaked in her surroundings, illumined by the pale morning light. She remembered a line from the original version of Disney’s Parent Trap: “I’m making a memory.” That’s exactly what she was doing, making a memory that she prayed would stay with her forever. “I want to make a lot of memories,” she whispered to the empty chamber.
Before long, she was roused from her musing, and memory making, by a quiet tap on the door. Kenna had arrived to assist her in getting ready for the day. She helped Cassie wash and dress before brushing her hair and working it into an intricate braid.
When Cassie went down to the great hall to have breakfast, Boyd was the only member of the family there.
“Did ye have fun last night?” he asked enthusiastically.
“Aye, I did. It was wonderful.”
“Maybe before the next feast day I can learn to dance and dance with ye.”
“I’d like that,” she said with a broad smile. “But I’ll also need to learn to dance.”
“Ye don’t know how either?”
“Nay. But I want to learn. It looked like fun.”
He smiled. “I thought it looked fun too.”
“What did ye think looked fun?” asked Lady Ranald as she walked into the hall on her husband’s arm.
Boyd’s face turned beet red. “Um…dancing.”
“Well, it is fun, son,” said Laird Ranald, giving his wife a kiss on the cheek.
Lady Ranald turned her attention to Cassie. “Good morning, Claire. I trust ye slept well?”
“I did, thank ye, my lady.”
Laird Ranald glanced around, frowning. “It isn’t like Tavish to stay abed this long, even after a great feast.”
“Oh, he’s not abed,” said Boyd. “He’s already broken his fast and gone.”
“Gone where?” asked his father.
Boyd shrugged. “I don’t know. To the lists?”
Now his mother frowned too. “To the lists? I had hoped he’d spend some time…well, never mind.”
Cassie suspected that Lady Ranald had been about to say spend some time with Claire. But honestly, Cassie didn’t care. She certainly wouldn’t be rude or unkind, but after last night it was clear Tavish wasn’t enamored with her and it would be best to keep it that way.
“What did ye want Tavish to do, Mam?” asked Boyd, glancing towards Cassie as if he too knew exactly what his mother had been about to say. Without waiting for his mother to answer, he confirmed Cassie’s suspicion by adding, “Did ye want him to spend time with Lady Claire? Because I could take her out to the stables to meet Tiny. She said she likes dogs.”
Cassie stifled a grin. Perhaps she didn’t interest Tavish, but ten-year-old Boyd gave every indication of crushing on her.
His mother smiled indulgently. “That’s kind of ye, Boyd. Perhaps ye can do that another time. Now that she’s had a few days to become accustomed to us, I think it might be nice if I showed Claire around the castle and introduced her to all of the people who work here.”
“I could come with ye,” offered Boyd.
“Not until ye’ve finished yer lessons with Father Paul,” said Laird Ranald.
Boyd pouted but didn’t argue.
So Cassie spent the morning meeting all of the people who kept Castle Ranald running. But much to her delight, Lady Ranald also explained precisely what each of them did and how, as lady of the castle, she managed and interacted with them. This was an amazing opportunity to see a real slice of medieval life.
“My dear, feel free to stop me if I’m telling ye things ye already know. But I suspect an abbey is run quite differently than a castle. And even at that ye probably weren’t instructed on the running of the abbey.”
Cassie smiled warmly. “Nay, my lady, I wasn’t. I really know nothing about running a castle or an abbey. As ye’re aware, I haven’t lived in the midst of my clan for many years.” Not only was that true for Claire, it sort of was for Cassie too. She hadn’t lived with her own family for years.
“And ye’ve had no mother since ye were but a bairn.”
“Aye.” Cassie remembered something the Mother Abbess had said to her: It will give ye the chance to see what would be expected of ye as a laird’s wife. “These are all things I’m happy to learn.”
“So ye think ye would like to leave the abbey?” The hopefulness in Lady Ranald’s tone nearly bowled her over.
“Uh…well…I don’t know yet. But the only way I can make my decision is if I understand what will be expected of me.”
Disappointment flashed across the older woman’s face for an instant before she masked it. “Aye, of course. Ye must be able to make an informed decision.”
Unfortunately, the more time Cassie spent with Lady Ranald, the more she liked her. Cassie’s conscious told her she should try to keep a bit of distance. She didn’t want Lady Ranald hurt any more than she wanted to hurt Tavish. But neither could she stand the thought of rebuffing the kind of motherly affection Lady Ranald seemed so willing to give. Cassie had never experienced that and she longed for it. She feared giving in to that longing was terribly selfish of her. But she also managed to convince herself that Lady Ranald was just being a kind hostess and there wasn’t any real depth of affection behind her actions.
When the midday meal was served, Lady Ranald tried again to push Tavish into spending time with Cassie.
“Son, I’m pleased ye haven’t run off again as ye did this morning.”
Tavish frowned. “I didn’t run off. I went to train with the men, as I usually do.”
“Ye usually break yer fast first,” observed his father, dryly.
“I did. I was just up a little earlier than usual this morning.”
“Well, this afternoon ye need to spend some time with our guest,” said his mother.
“Mother, I have responsibilities—”
“Aye, ye do,” snapped his father. “And we’ve discussed one of yer primary responsibilities often enough.”
Cassie knew where this was going and clearly Lady Ranald did as well.
Lady Ranald put her hand on her husband’s arm. “We don’t need to talk about this now.”
“Nay, Ann. The reason Claire is here is no secret to anyone, least of all the lass herself. And yet, last night Tavish—”
Lady Ranald interrupted him. “Seoc, stop.”
Cassie felt the color rise in her cheeks. She looked down, but felt Tavish’s eyes on her.
“Mother’s right. We don’t need to continue down this path. I am aware of my responsibilities, Da.”
His father nodded. “Good. Then ye’ll spend the afternoon with Claire.”
Cassie cast Tavish a sidelong glance. His jaw was set and his eyes flashed with irritation. But after a moment he gave a slight bow to his father. “As ye wish.”
He clearly wasn’t happy about his father’s edict and the resulting tension during the midday meal was oppressive.
Laird and Lady Ranald attempted to lighten it with casual conversation, but they weren’t particularly successful.
Cassie simply tried to be polite and avoid further confrontation.
Tavish only spoke if addressed directly and his responses were short and curt. He looked like a man who was facing his own execution. It was painfully obvious he hadn’t been any more pleased by the betrothal discussions than Claire had been. And Cassie knew very well, if this continued, the time she spent here would not be pleasant for anyone.
She and Tavish had been ordered to spend the afternoon together. Perhaps she could find a way to make
the situation more tolerable.
When the meal was finished, Tavish rose and turned to Cassie. “Perhaps we could go for a ride.” He frowned. “But, I suppose ye don’t really know how to ride.”
Cassie loved to ride. She’d grown up with horses. She had been given her first pony for her fifth birthday. And although she hadn’t had the opportunity to ride much while living in Baltimore, anytime she visited one of her parents’ country homes she spent much of her time on horseback. “I do know how to ride and I’d very much enjoy that.”
He looked surprised. “Ye do? Who taught ye? I thought ye’ve lived at the Abbey for the last ten years.”
Ruh-roh. “Uh, what I mean is that I used to love to ride as a wee lass. I’ve missed it. I’m certain I can remember how.”
He frowned. “Well then, I’ll arrange for an escort and I’ll have mother’s palfrey saddled for ye. I’ll meet ye in front of the keep shortly.”
Cassie watched as he turned and strode out. Then she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Lady Ranald smiled sadly. “I’m so very sorry for his behavior. I assure ye, he’ll get over whatever’s bothering him.”
“Please don’t worry, my lady. I know it’s not directed at me personally.” She figured she may as well address the elephant in the room. “I’m sure having no choice in who one marries is vexing.”
“But ye don’t have a choice either.”
Oops. “Aye, that’s true. But I do have another option. I can return to the convent.”
Lady Ranald looked stricken. “Oh, please, don’t make a hasty decision, especially if it’s because of his bad temper. I’ve already become so fond of ye. Ye’re perfectly lovely and I think ye’d make and excellent wife for Tavish. He’ll come around. I know he will.”
“I haven’t made any decisions yet. I just don’t want ye to be concerned that his words might hurt me. They won’t. I promise.”
The older woman looked relieved. “That’s very kind of ye. But the fact remains, I expect better of my son in the future.” She took Cassie by the arm. “Now, I’ll walk outside with ye. Ye’ll love my sweet Belle. She’s well-trained and responsive. If it’s been a while since ye’ve ridden, ye might be tempted to pull harder on the reins, but if ye keep a light hand with her, she’ll respond perfectly.”
The Gift: The Pocket Watch Chronicles Page 6