by Carmen Caine
“Niall, after you saw how badly Uncle Ambrose beat me, you made me promise never to hide anything from you. Then, that day in the glen, you said you would try not to assume the worst, but you have. The one time I needed you, I needed to talk to you and tell you something, you wouldn’t listen. You ordered me to stop.”
“Is this about the day my mother arrived?”
“Idiot,” she said under her breath.
“Aye, that’s been established,” he said dryly, “and ye are right. Ye made me a promise and I made one to ye. I did warn ye it might take a few tries before I got the knack of it. Sweetling, I am sorry. I was tired and angry and I should have listened to you. Will ye tell me now?”
“Why bother?”
He tilted her chin up to look at her. “Because I asked you to.”
Katherine shook her head in frustration, but launched into the whole story. She started with Eithne’s chastisement for addressing her as “Lady Eithne.” When she reached the point where Eithne scolded her for not having a bath prepared, Niall said reasonably, “But she hadn’t asked for one.”
“She called me simple-minded when I made that observation. That is when she told me to remove the rag from my head. I said I understood she was a Highlander and I knew she would appreciate why I didn’t want to remove my kertch, and she slapped me. After that I was rude, and I should not have been, but—”
“She struck ye?” Niall’s eyes grew dark.
“Aye but—”
“She struck my wife in the face? In front of clansmen?”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you. That’s why I hid Tomas. Niall, why wouldn’t you listen? I swear I tried to keep the peace. I—” she couldn’t hold back a sob.
“Wheesht,” he said, carrying her back to bed. When the new wave of tears had quieted, he said, “Katherine, ye are right. I am an idiot.”
The next morning when they rose, she started to put on a kirtle, but Niall shook his head, “Nay, Katherine, I was wrong.” He handed her a léine and an airisaidh. “She was Lady MacIan, but I am laird now, and ye are my wife, the lady of this castle. He retrieved her kertch, and gave it to her. “In the future, I won’t let anyone forget that.”
“This isn’t going to be pretty,” Katherine said, tying her kertch on.
When they descended to the great hall, Eithne sat at the laird’s table. “What’s the meaning of this?” she spat when she saw Katherine’s attire.
Niall answered, “Lady Eithne, there has been a mistake. Ye were my father’s wife and ye are Lady MacIan.” She smiled smugly. “However,” Niall continued, “I am laird here now. Ye chose to leave this keep more than twelve years ago, and during that time ye managed to impoverish this clan.”
Eithne opened her mouth to protest, but Niall put his hand up to silence her.
“Ye have given up the right to any authority at Duncurra. Ye are welcome to live here, or in Edinburgh, or anywhere else ye choose, on the allowance ye have been given, but Katherine is the lady of Duncurra. Ye will show her the respect she deserves as my wife, and which she has earned by caring for this clan.”
Eithne appeared to burn with fury, but before she said anything, Niall added, “One more thing, Lady MacIan. If ye ever strike my wife again, I will banish ye.”
Eithne stomped off to her chamber and did not emerge for the rest of the day.
Under Bridie’s strenuous objections, Katherine did have the evening meal sent up.
Once again Duncurra ran smoothly, but with Eithne in residence, things were not always pleasant. Katherine continued to find herself in the role of protector as she had been at Cotharach. Although she had the authority to prevent some of Eithne’s punitive behavior, she had no power to curb her acid tongue. Lady MacIan continued to be an irritant to everyone who lived or worked at Duncurra, and the comfortable rhythm existing before her arrival was shattered.
Chapter 16
As the days grew shorter in early November, the Highlands became unusually cold and the winds howled from the northwest, occasionally bringing snow. Katherine envied Niall, who could stay away from the keep for most of the daylight hours, limiting his exposure to the ever-present Eithne. When she could leave the keep to visit an ailing villager, Katherine relished her time away, but it came at a price. On her return she faced disgruntled staff and an even more caustic than usual mother-in-law.
As Niall had instructed, and to Tomas’ delight, each day a different guardsman had the responsibility of keeping the boy well clear of Eithne. Each of them had different talents, interests, and stories, so Tomas always had fresh entertainment. To Katherine’s amusement, so did the rest of Duncurra. This was especially true on “Turcuil days,” as Tomas called them. Turcuil could strike terror into the hearts of lesser men with a simple scowl, but Tomas adored him. On “Turcuil days” he learned to wrestle and spar with a wooden sword. He also rode all over Duncurra on the shoulders of a bear, or a dragon, or whatever beast Tomas wanted Turcuil to be.
This alone provided rich entertainment for those witnessing it, but the real show came when the weather was bad or some other reason forced them to stay in the keep. Katherine finally saw why Fingal first described him as a changling, because on those days it was impossible for Turcuil to avoid Edna. Fingal and Niall hadn’t exaggerated. When Edna entered a room, Turcuil watched her like a smitten puppy, becoming absolutely tongue-tied if forced to speak to her. When she spoke to him, he turned several shades of red and mumbled or grunted something unintelligible.
After several “Turcuil days,” Katherine realized the rest of the castle staff actually enjoyed the sport of “Turcuil baiting” and created opportunities to engage in it. One morning Katherine heard Bridie say, “Edna, I’m just taking some sweet buns out of the ovens. Go tell Turcuil to bring Tomas to the kitchen.” But then Bridie followed her to the door of the great hall with a grin on her face, to watch the show. Katherine mistakenly thought his fellow guardsmen might have more sympathy for him, but if anything, they relished “Turcuil baiting” more than the castle staff. Whenever possible, the men created errands forcing Turcuil to cross paths with Edna simply for the sport of it.
It was obvious that everyone watching found the whole comedy even more amusing because while Turcuil clearly adored Edna, she seemed sublimely unaware of his affection for her. Perhaps because of this, Edna treated him with the same terse efficiency she did everyone else, and the inexplicably shy giant could not push beyond her brusque demeanor.
Katherine supposed she really shouldn’t interfere, but she liked both of them immensely. Not only did she hate to see Turcuil suffer, but she also believed Edna might welcome his affection if she knew about it. Edna had been a widow for a number of years, and even with two children and a castle full of people, Katherine frequently thought she seemed very lonely. Armed with this knowledge, the Lady decided to give the oblivious woman a little push if she had the chance to do so.
Such an occasion arose one day when Edna planned to visit the cooper. Seeing the opportunity, Katherine decided not to pass it up, so she went along, ostensibly for some fresh air and a walk. As they strode down the path, Katherine asked, “Edna, how long do ye plan to torture Turcuil?” knowing full well Edna did not recognize the effect she had on the guardsman. Still, Katherine had learned the element of surprise had value in any battle.
“Turcuil? What—what are ye talking about?”
“Turcuil. Ye know, the great bear of a guardsman.”
“I know who Turcuil is, my lady,” she said in exasperation. “Why do you think I am torturing him?”
“I don’t know why ye are torturing him, that’s why I asked ye.”
“Nay, that’s not what I meant and ye know it. I am not torturing Turcuil, as if anybody could. What makes ye think I am?”
Katherine stopped and looked her in the eye. “Ye needn’t be coy with me. Ye can’t have missed it. Anyone with eyes can see that man is mad about ye. I am just wondering how long ye plan to lead him along like a bull with
a ring in his nose.”
“My lady,” gasped Edna. “I have never—surely you don’t think that I—why would—he what?”
“He is mad about ye. He absolutely adores ye. He can’t take his eyes off ye. If ye so much as twitched your little finger in his direction, he would fall at your feet.”
“My lady, ye are mistaken,” Edna said, blushing profusely. “The oaf rarely even speaks to me except for the occasional grunt.”
“He can barely form thoughts in your presence, much less words.”
“Well,” said Edna indignantly, “that hardly bodes well for getting to know him better, does it?”
Katherine laughed heartily. “And why should the course of true love run any smoother for ye than for the rest of us? A strong man who adores ye can learn to talk to ye with a little encouragement.”
“But—my lady, are ye certain? Turcuil?”
Katherine smiled and said confidently, “I am more certain of Turcuil’s affection for ye than I am of the sun rising on the morrow. Mind ye, I certainly would understand if ye aren’t interested in the man. He has his faults, and trying to get through to him would be a challenge.”
Suddenly indignant, Edna said, “Now what on earth would make ye say that? Turcuil is a fine man whom any woman would be lucky to have.” She stopped her tirade when she registered the small sly smile on Lady Katherine’s face. She blushed again, laughed, and said, “Ye are a wicked lass.”
“I’m nothing of the sort,” replied Katherine, even as her mouth split into a very wicked grin and she continued walking toward the village.
“Well, my lady, since ye are so very certain of his affections, how do ye propose I—uh—encourage him?”
Now Katherine blushed. “Are ye honestly asking me that question? I’m hardly the expert at capturing a man’s heart. Have ye forgotten the king had to force a man to marry me? Nay, I’m just showing you where the road is. Ye’ll have to find the way on your own.”
“It seems to me, having captured the heart of a hard-headed man who was, as ye say, forced to marry ye, ye might be able to share some wisdom, my lady.”
Katherine smiled sadly. “Edna, I believe the laird has grown fond of me, as I have of him, but he said himself his heart was never part of the bargain. It is different for ye and Turcuil, because Turcuil is prepared to offer ye his heart.”
“Fond, my lady? Ye and the laird have grown fond of each other? What was it ye said to me, ‘Anyone with eyes can see?’ Well, anyone with eyes can see there is more than fondness between the two of ye.”
Katherine wished it were true and couldn’t keep the sadness out of her voice. “I think ye are mistaken.”
They had reached the cooper’s workshop and Edna said, “With all due respect, my lady, I think ye are mistaken. Ye have captured the laird’s heart as securely as he has captured yours.”
Katherine looked doubtfully at her and Edna added, “I am surer of that than I am of the sun rising on the morrow.”
Katherine laughed as she realized how happy Edna’s words made her. If Edna could tell Katherine loved Niall, perhaps Niall was growing to love her as well.
~ * ~
That evening, after her chat with Edna, the older woman appeared to pay closer attention to Turcuil. When he entered the great hall for the evening meal, Edna wished him a good evening and asked if he would go with her to fetch a keg of ale from a storeroom. He became even more flustered than ever and blushed crimson, but as he followed her to the storeroom, Katherine noticed the small knowing smile on Edna’s face.
Later, when she and Niall had retired to their bedchamber, Niall said with a sly grin, “I think Edna has finally taken notice of Turcuil. I didn’t think that would ever happen.”
Katherine stopped combing her hair. She turned to look at him. “I have to confess, I, too, was convinced it wouldn’t happen, so I gave Edna a little push.”
“Katherine, what did ye do?” Niall asked, the grin on his face belying his severe tone of voice.
“Nothing that shouldn’t have been done ages ago. Although it was plainly obvious to everyone else, Edna herself was completely oblivious to Turcuil’s affections. I just pointed that out to her.”
“Wife, I am not sure ye should be interfering in the love lives of my men.”
“Well, that isn’t what I did, is it? Not unless you have recently made Edna a guardsman? I simply shed some light on the situation for her. What she chose to do with that newly found knowledge was completely up to her.”
Niall snorted. “Turcuil has no chance now.”
Katherine glared at him. “How long would ye like to continue this little offended act, Laird? Ye are sadly mistaken if ye think I don’t know ye yourself have been—what was the word you used? Interfering? Yes that was it—ye yourself have been ‘interfering’ in Turcuil’s love life for weeks now.”
At the look of shocked indignation on Niall’s face, Katherine arched an eyebrow. “Tell me ye have not assigned Turcuil to Tomas twice as often as any other guardsman.”
Niall still tried to feign innocence. “Have I? I was unaware.”
“Unaware, were ye? And I suppose ye were also ‘unaware’ Turcuil is the only guardsman assigned to Tomas when the weather is bad?”
Niall had the good grace to smile and look guilty.
“I thought so,” said Katherine smugly. “Well, sir, ye should realize even if ye toss the right ingredients into a pot and stir, it doesn’t become soup without adding some heat.”
Niall grinned, pulling her into his embrace, “I’ll give ye some heat, my impudent little matchmaker.”
Chapter 17
By the end of November, winter’s icy grip firmly held Duncurra. Unusually cold, even for the Highlands, Katherine found fewer valid reasons for escaping the keep, thus having to tolerate Eithne’s company for longer periods of time. Even though Niall had clearly assigned all authority to Katherine, she still tried her best to be gracious and to show Eithne a reasonable amount of respect. Some days she found the effort required to do this simply exhausting.
On one snowy afternoon after attending to all other tasks that could possibly keep her out of the great hall, Katherine finally had to tackle some needlework she had been avoiding. As she sat sewing by the hearth, she listened to Eithne criticize and complain for what seemed like hours. Katherine hadn’t been well for a couple of days. She felt more tired and less patient than usual. She could barely tolerate the forced confinement with her mother-in-law. As Eithne railed on at her, Katherine thought time spent with the unpleasant woman must surely rival purgatory. God must have given her this penance for some reason, but she couldn’t imagine what horrible sin she had committed to deserve it. Finally she stood up saying, “Pardon me, Eithne, I have to…go out.”
“In this storm? Why, of all the idiotic things to do.”
But Katherine had already left the great hall before Eithne could say more. Not taking time to fetch a heavy mantle, she pulled her airisaidh over her head, stepping outside the front doors of the keep. The snow fell heavily, blown by the biting wind, which easily penetrated her woolen garments. In her haste to leave, she forgot to inform a guardsman of her destination. She had no real idea where she was going anyway.
She stood on the steps for a moment, looking around, and her eyes landed on the chapel just across the courtyard. Perhaps she would find the peace she sought in the stillness there. She crossed the courtyard and slipped inside the little building, shutting the door behind her. With no fire to warm it, Katherine could see her breath in the frigid air, but without the biting wind she could tolerate the cold.
Sitting on one of the benches in the sparsely furnished chapel, she took a deep breath, inhaling the faint aroma of beeswax and incense that seemed to linger in every church. The tension she couldn’t seem to escape in Eithne’s presence slipped away, leaving her feeling calmer than she had in days. She missed this. She prayed quietly for a while. When she reached the end of her litany, she simply sat in the stillness
, savoring the tranquility. She felt a holiness in simply being still that she couldn’t quite explain, but of all days, today she needed the sacred silence. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but a commotion outside drew her from her contemplation and she went to see what was amiss.
“There she is,” she heard Turcuil call, and then she saw her husband striding towards her.
“I thought ye were lost. Why didn’t ye tell anyone where ye were going? Eithne said ye went out into the storm hours ago.” Niall was cross but his voice held a note of fear.
“Well, that is a gross exaggeration,” Katherine said, “and I didn’t tell anybody because when I left the keep I didn’t know where I was going. I just needed to escape and find a few moments of peace, but I am sorry I worried you.”
“Ye are freezing,” he said and, scooping her up, carried her across the snowy courtyard, into the keep, straight upstairs to their chamber. He stoked the fire in the hearth and asked, “If ye needed quiet, why didn’t ye just come up here where it was warm?” He still sounded cross with her.
“There is a difference between quiet and peace. I have been tired and irritable lately. I used to go to Mass every day and I thought maybe a few minutes in the peaceful stillness of the chapel would help. That is the only thing I have ever missed about Cotharach.”
He considered her a moment. “Would ye like to have a priest here, Katherine?”
“You mean a resident priest like Father James, not just an itinerant? Is that possible?”
“It can be arranged. Since ye are the reason we have adequate resources, the least I can do is give ye a priest if that is what ye want.”
“If it really isn’t a problem, I would like that very much.” She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.
~ * ~
The storm blew out during the night and the day dawned clear and bright. Niall sent a messenger with an appropriate offering to the Dominican abbey several hours ride away. It thrilled Katherine when the messenger returned the next day, accompanied by Father Colm. As big and strong as any warrior, only his priest’s robes revealed his true calling. His crystal blue eyes sparkled with vitality, but his white hair and beard suggested he had at least three score years behind him.