Once they were ready, she took Hunter’s hand and led him to the great hall. Elaine, Robley, and Malcolm sat at the long table before the hearth. Hunter broke free and ran to them. Jumping up on the bench to stand eye level with Malcolm, he signed a quick greeting to Robley and Elaine, and tugged on Malcolm’s shirt.
She knew hero worship when she saw it, and her insides warmed. Malcolm rubbed Hunter’s head and gave him his undivided attention, as Hunter told him his name and asked for his.
“Good morn, Lady True. The lad wants something, aye?” Malcolm asked.
“He’s telling you his name is Hunter,” Elaine said before Alethia had a chance to reply. “He asks for your name.” Elaine showed Malcolm how to spell his name.
“Impressive, Elaine.” Alethia filled two bowls with oatmeal from the large cauldron by the hearth. She added honey and thick cream from pewter pitchers on the table and fixed Hunter a piece of dark bread and butter. “You’ve been reading the alphabet book I made for him.”
Hunter patted Malcolm on the shoulder and signed to him. Malcolm turned to her and asked, “What does he say?”
Alethia touched Hunter on the shoulder and asked him to repeat himself. “Oh.” She frowned. “He’s asking you to teach him how to fight with a sword. It seems to be his latest obsession.” She signed for him to sit and placed his food in front of him. “He’s too little.”
“He’s no’ too little for a wooden sword. ’Tis time he started training.” Malcolm gave Hunter a manly pat on the back. Hunter beamed.
“Elaine has been telling us about the language you’re teaching the lad. I would ask a favor of you.” Malcolm stood to offer her a place beside him.
“OK.” Alethia sat down to her breakfast.
“What is the meaning of oh-kay?” Elaine asked.
“It means yes, or all right, depending on how it’s used, two letters.” She signed the letters in the air. “OK.”
“OK.” Elaine smiled as she tried the word out.
“I want you to teach some of the men in our garrison the signs.” Malcolm continued. “I wish to learn as well.”
“I’d be happy to teach anyone interested in learning. It would be helpful for Hunter to have more people to talk to.”
“Good. ’Tis settled. We will begin our lessons after my father’s departure.” Malcolm rose from his place. “I have much to do. Robley will accompany you to the village today. Galen is already there and will join you.”
Once Malcolm had gone, Robley turned to her. “Elaine explained your dilemma. I know what you seek from the blacksmith and the cooper.” He grinned and winked. “I vow to protect all of you with my life, and I’ll turn a blind eye to your doings. I dinna agree with my cousin on this. Every woman should carry a weapon. ’Tis foolhardy no’ to be prepared for trouble.”
“Malcolm will have a fit if he finds out,” she warned.
“Aye.” He grinned. “I’m counting on it.”
Alethia studied the village during the ferry ride to the mainland. Several thatched cottages hugged the shore, and a large stable stood a distance away from the other buildings. Along with a number of unpleasant smells associated with habitation, the scent of something fermenting filled the air, indicating a brewery.
The sky was overcast, and the temperature had dropped. Winter wasn’t far off. She pulled her woolen shawl closer. Movement caught her eye, and she turned to watch a single rider climb the hill. “Isn’t that Liam riding off by himself?”
“Aye,” Robley said.
“Where’s he going?”
“I dinna know, and he will no’ say. I suspect his many mysterious trips have something to do with a lass.” He smiled at her and wagged his eyebrows. “Lady True, what do you think of our home?”
“You too? My name is Alethia. Why does Malcolm insist on calling me True?”
“Och, lass. He means it as a compliment. He sees you as nas fìor, which does no’ mean the same as truth in the way aleth does in Greek. Fìor is a word that means true-hearted, genuine, just and upright. We all know how you healed the weaver’s son.” He smiled and took her hands in his. “Look upon your young lad. Hunter has put on weight and thrives in your care. You did no’ have to accept him on as your ward, yet you did. True-hearted is what you are. Malcolm honors your character with the name.”
“Oh.” She swallowed. “I thought he was teasing me about being a truth-sayer. He does enjoy annoying me.”
“Aye, that he does.” He chuckled. “You rise to the challenge, match him wit for wit, and it pleases him. Malcolm would move heaven and earth to see you safe, lass. Dinna doubt it.”
“Why? I’m nothing to him.”
“Are you no’?” Robley winked.
“He sees me as his responsibility, that’s all.” She frowned and turned back to watch Liam disappear over the crest of the hill.
“’Tis certain that he sees you as his responsibility, lass, but no’ in the way you think.”
She liked that Malcolm thought of her as true-hearted. True. The nickname had a nice ring to it. She puzzled over what Robley meant when he said Malcolm saw her as his responsibility, but not in the way she thought.
Everything about Malcolm confused her, but then what did she know about men? Nothing. Being a music geek her whole life hadn’t exactly led to hordes of boys lining up at her door for dates. She hadn’t even gone to her high school prom.
The ferry landed, and they disembarked with Galen’s help. Hunter ran in a circle around them, unable to contain his glee. Every now and then he’d return to her, clutch her gown or grasp her hand for a second’s reassurance. Then he’d bounce off again. She couldn’t help but laugh. His antics touched a tender place in her heart.
“Come, True. We’re to the cooper first.” Lydia nodded a greeting to Galen. She took Alethia’s arm, and Elaine walked on her other side. The two women exchanged greetings with the villagers and stopped occasionally to introduce her.
At the cooper’s workshop, Alethia explained what she wanted. He measured her with twine from the ground to her shoulder and from the tips of the fingers of one hand to the other with her arms outstretched. He did the same with Hunter. Alethia handed him the gold chain from the pendant Giselle had given her. The cooper studied it and said something in rapid Gaelic to Lydia.
“The cooper says it is too much. True, you needn’t part with your jewelry. We’ll take care of the cost,” Lydia admonished.
“I want to pay my own way.”
“You have more than earned your keep. It is we who owe you. Were you a minstrel in residence, we’d pay you with coin,” Elaine persisted.
“Next time, maybe. I want to take care of this myself.”
Elaine hooked her arm through Alethia’s as Lydia explained to the cooper what she’d said. He shook his head but dropped the chain into his sporran.
“Come,” Elaine said. “We’re to the smithy.”
Set back from the main road, the blacksmith’s workshop was an imposing stone structure with a slate roof and heavy double doors of oak and iron. Tools hung from the rafters. Two strapping apprentices worked with anvils behind a large fire pit. The sound of hammers striking metal reverberated through the air, and heat from the fire wafted over Alethia from her place at the threshold. A large, beefy man with thick, muscled arms approached.
“Lady Lydia, Elaine.” He bowed. “Good day to you.”
He spoke English, surprising Alethia.
“Thomas is Sassenach, which is what we call the English,” Elaine whispered into her ear. “He’s Beth’s father. ’Tis why she speaks the language so well.”
“Good day to you, Thomas,” Lydia said. “This is Lady Alethia. She is a guest at Moigh Hall and has need of your skills.”
“Aye?” His curious gaze settled upon her. “What do you seek, milady?”
“I would like a couple of daggers with sheaths like the ones the women wear hidden under their skirts. One for Hunter and one for myself.” She gestured toward the child. His eyes remi
nded her of a baby owl’s, they’d grown so large with wonder. “I also need two eating knives, and a few dozen arrowheads to be delivered to the cooper.” She pulled the pendant Giselle had given her from her pocket. “I wish to use this as payment if you will accept it.”
The blacksmith took the charm from her and moved to the door to study it in the light. “Milady, you could arm the MacKintosh garrison with the emerald alone. I cannot accept this.”
“I want to be rid of it.” She took a step back when he reached out to return it to her.
“True, you cannot mean it.” Elaine took the golden effigy from the smithy. She handed it to her mother. “Let us pay Thomas. Keep the piece. ’Tis quite valuable.”
“No. Will you take it or not?”
“Aye, I’ll take it.”
Snatching the dreaded reminder of Giselle’s manipulation from Lydia, she placed it back into the hand of the blacksmith.
Malcolm rode into the village, glad to be home at last. The past two days had been busy, and he still had much to do. He’d ridden several leagues with his father’s party before turning back toward home. He glanced at the sun. ’Twas past the hour of Sext. He dismounted at the stable and turned his mount over to one of the stable lads.
As he approached the ferry, he caught a glimpse of the blacksmith chatting with the ferry master. The two sat companionably on the bench next to the landing, sharing a flagon of ale. “Thomas, Arlen, good day to you both.”
“My lord,” Thomas said, rising from his place and removing his cap. “I’ve been waiting to speak with ye.” He glanced at the ferry master and back at Malcolm.
“Come. Walk with me, Thomas.”
“Aye.” Thomas gripped and twisted the cap in his hands as they walked, and his tension set Malcolm on edge. “What is it?”
“My lord, your mother and sister were by to see me and the cooper yesterday. They brought the outlander with them.”
“Aye. Young Galen and Robley accompanied them, did they no’?”
Thomas nodded. “Lady Alethia placed an order for a number of weapons.”
Malcolm stopped walking. “Did you fill the order?”
“Aye, with what I had to hand, and I promised to have the rest delivered. The cooper is crafting a bow for her and one for the lad in her care.” He turned to face Malcolm. “Were we wrong to do so?”
“Nay.” Malcolm placed his hand on the smith’s shoulder. “I did no’ think to tell you otherwise.”
“Her order is no’ what I wish to talk with ye about.” He reached into the pouch at his waist. “She paid us with these. Connor and I both told the lass ’twas too much, but she insisted we take them.”
Malcolm took the chain and pendant from the blacksmith’s hand. The knotted crane was the mate to his ring. He’d expected as much, yet seeing it sent a chill down his spine.
“The lady said she wished to be rid of it.”
“Mmm.” Malcolm studied the necklace in his hand as if doing so would reveal its secrets. “What do I owe you and Connor for the weapons?” While the blacksmith named the price he and the cooper had agreed to, Malcolm’s mind reeled with this new piece to the puzzle. Why would she wish to be rid of it? “I’ll have the coin sent to you both once I reach the keep. My thanks.” He grasped the smith’s forearm and shook his hand. “I am glad you both came forward with this. Lesser men would have kept the goods without a word. You are both a credit to our clan, Thomas. Tell Connor I said so.”
“I will. My thanks, my lord.” Thomas bobbed his head and took his leave.
Anger at Alethia’s disobedience and worry for her safety grew beyond reason on the ferry ride to the island. He took the ring and pendant from his sporran, opened the clasp of the chain and slipped them onto it before tucking them safely away.
He couldn’t wait for the ferry to land and leaped to the beach. Striding toward the keep, he scanned the bailey for any sign of Robley. Though he could not be angry with the villagers, he had spoken to his cousin about his concerns. Robley knew better than to cross him. Pushing wide the doors to the great hall, he spied Beth coming down the stairs. “Where is Lady True?”
“Milady is in your mother’s solar.” She took one look at his face and scurried away.
Climbing the stairs three at a time, he ate up the distance to the solar with his strides. He shoved the door open so hard, a resounding crack echoed through the room as it hit the wall. “Alethia.”
“Oh crap.” She looked up at him, the guilt plain on her face.
“Oh crap is right. Mother, Elaine, I would like to have a word with Alethia in private.”
They fled, glancing sympathetically her way as they passed.
“Give them to me,” he commanded.
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“You will.”
“I won’t.”
In two strides he was before her, lifting her skirts in search of the contraband.
“Stop it!” She shoved his hands away and jumped from her place, putting the chair between them. “You know what you are?” she shouted. “You’re a walking, talking oxymoron!”
Malcolm opened his mouth to retort, only to be interrupted.
“That’s right.” She stomped her foot. “An overbearing, arrogant, bellowing contradiction.” Her breathing had grown rapid, and her eyes were wide with fear. She looked ready to flee at the slightest provocation.
Alethia feared him.
In an instant, all of Malcolm’s anger dissipated. He couldn’t bear to have her fear him. “What do you mean, lass?”
“You demand I answer your questions, but you ignore mine. You declare you want me to be safe, but you won’t let me feel safe. Hugh would have raped me if you hadn’t intervened. I haven’t gotten over that. It’s just a stupid dagger.” She retrieved the small knife from the sheath strapped to her calf. “Don’t you get it? Carrying this makes me feel better.” She sucked in a huge gulp of air.
“You say I’m not a prisoner here, but you won’t let me have any freedom. You demand I have faith in you, and you have none in me.” Her voice quavered.
Her shoulders slumped. She looked defeated. He was responsible, and the knowledge laid him low. She spoke the truth. He shoved the chair separating them aside and took her into his arms. Holding her close, he bent to touch her forehead with his. “Woman, were you but a wee bit smaller, I would tuck you away in my sporran for safekeeping.”
He kissed her before she could cause him more grief with her words. Twining his hands in her hair, he slanted her head to gain better access and ravished the velvety sweetness of her mouth with his tongue.
Her dagger dropped to the floor with a thud. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Alethia pressed against him, and he could feel the tension leave her on a sigh. Lifting her into his arms, he crossed the room and laid her on the cushioned bench, lowering himself to cover her. Her soft moans incited his passion to a fever pitch. If he wasn’t careful, he would take her right here in his mother’s solar.
Moving to her neck, he inhaled her irresistible sweet scent. He kissed his way up to her delicate ear and cupped one of her breasts through her gown. She arched into him and groaned. Hard and aching, he pressed his mouth against the swell of her breast where skin met gown.
“Malcolm,” she whispered, drawing his face back to hers, kissing him with a passion equal to his own.
Frantic with desire, he undid the laces of her gown, tugging it down her shoulders. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of the dusky rose of her nipples against the exotic light brown of her flawless skin. Malcolm bent to her, taking one delectable bud into his mouth. His body tightened beyond endurance as she writhed with pleasure and pressed into him, tangling her fingers in his hair.
Switching to lavish her other breast with equal attention, he found the hem of her gown and ran his hand up the soft velvet curve of her calf, coming up to caress her thigh. She gasped and jerked at the contact. He’d explode if he didn’t take her.
No. This
was not how he wanted their first time to be. He wanted a wedding night for them, a memory they would both savor as they grew old together. Alethia deserved honor and respect, and here he was behaving like a rutting stag. It took all of his will to rein himself back.
Raising himself, Malcolm devoured her with his eyes and traced a finger from her forehead down her fine, straight nose to her full lips. “We need to talk.”
“Now?” she groaned. “You wanna…talk?” She pushed herself up to sitting and attempted to put herself back together with fingers that fumbled and trembled slightly.
Her labored breathing did naught to help him calm his raging lust. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing on more important issues needing his attention. “Aye, lest we do something we might both regret.”
“Right.” She shot him a disgruntled look. “You started it.”
He chuckled. “Aye, I’ll no’ deny my culpability. Here, let me help.” He reached out to retie her gown. Settling her beside him, he reveled in her tousled appearance.
Her lips were swollen from his kisses, and her expression betrayed the passion he’d aroused. He chuckled. “Aye, True. We will talk. Everything you said must be laid to rest. I will answer your questions, and you may keep your weapons.”
“And I can go freely wherever I wish?”
“Nay. You will stay within the walls until such time any danger to either of us has passed.” She started to protest. “Alethia, on this I must be firm.”
“What makes you think I’m in danger? Why do you object so strongly to my having a few daggers? Giselle never said anything about my being in danger.”
“Giselle told my fortune the summer I turned ten and three. She said truth would save my life, and she gave me the ring. My ring is the mate to your pendant.” She showed no surprise at his words. “Even before I revealed it to you, I suspected you were the one the old woman spoke of. I’m a warrior. You are not. I mean to take the burden of saving my life from your shoulders. Without weapons to hand, you cannot enter into a battle for anyone’s sake.” He gave her a squeeze. “Battle is a way of life for me. It is not for you to protect me, but for me to protect you.”
True to the Highlander (The Novels of Loch Moigh) Page 10