by Lynsay Sands
Eva almost demurred, as she wasn’t really used to help. While it was true that Mavis had been pressed into acting as her lady’s maid a time or two, it was mostly to fuss over Eva’s hair. She generally dressed and undressed herself. However, Eva found that her energy appeared to have drained away and she was suddenly so exhausted that undressing seemed a terrible effort. The assistance would be welcome.
“Yes, please,” Eva murmured as she approached the girl and the tub she stood beside.
“Where is she?”
Magaidh MacAdie glanced up as Connall crossed the great hall to the trestle table where she sat. “She’s sleepin’ o’ course. The poor lass was exhausted after such a strenuous journey. She bathed, ate, and fell right to sleep.” Her gaze slid to Ewan as he too sat down. “Could ye no have stopped fer at least four or five hours last night to give the girl a rest? Tis obvious she’s no used to sech long journeys.”
“I ordered him to ride straight through,” Connall excused the man as they settled at the table. A servant immediately rushed forward with ale. Connall nodded his thanks, but didn’t touch his drink.
“Well, I hope ’twas fer a good purpose. The lass has a sorry case o’ saddle sores from the journey.”
“Better saddle sores than dead,” Connall said. “With the trouble we’ve been having of late, it seemed a sensible precaution.”
Magaidh’s mouth tightened at the reminder of the recent difficulties that had arisen around the MacNachtons and MacAdies. The rumors had started again, some of their people had been killed, and there had been two attempts on Connall’s life, though they weren’t sure if these attacks were connected to the rumors. Pushing these grim thoughts away, she merely said, “Well, I had Glynis put some salve on the sores. She’ll recover soon enough.”
Connall grunted at this news, then glanced at Ewan. “Did she whinge about being sore?”
The man shook his head. “Nay. Said nary a word o’ complaint. No aboot the length of the journey or ought else.”
Connall’s gaze narrowed on the other man. Ewan was so obviously pleased to be able to offer this news, he was left to wonder what the man wasn’t saying. “Were there any problems at all?”
The man shifted uncomfortably, leading Connall to believe he’d been right. There was something. “Ewan,” he said in warning tones.
“No a problem really,” the man finally said. “There was a tense bit though when the men thought her mad.”
“What?” Magaidh looked shocked. “Well, ’tis nonsense. She’s a perfectly lovely lass.”
“Aye. She is. I mean she isna mad,” Ewan said quickly. “It’s jest she was talking to her horse fer a bit and the men mistook it fer her talking to hersel’ and began to fret that she was—”
“Talking to her horse?” Connall interrupted.
“Er…Aye. It seems the mare isna used to long journeys outside o’ Caxton, and she was soothing the beast. A lot,” he added, feeling he should mention that. If there was something wrong with the lass, her husband should be prepared.
Connall considered this information, but merely nodded. It didn’t seem a problem to him if the lass wanted to soothe her mare. He was rather fond of his own mount.
The three of them fell silent and Connall finally turned his attention to the drink the servant had set before him. The ale was tepid and bitter, just the way he liked it. An hour ago he wouldn’t have enjoyed it nearly as much as he did now, though he’d had another thirst needing attention. One he fought as often as he could, but had to give in to eventually to live.
“Ye should’ve at least greeted the girl.”
Connall glanced at his mother. She was giving him that reproving look he hated so much. It always managed to bring guilt to the fore in him, as it did now. “I thought she’d prefer to rest and recover from her journey first.”
“Aye, but surely a hello wouldn’t have harmed?”
Connall shrugged uncomfortably and concentrated on his drink. He hadn’t intended avoiding his new bride in the way he had. It had been a spur of the moment decision. He’d come out of the keep on being told the men were back, expecting to greet her, but on arriving and finding her not in evidence—though he’d spied the skirt of her dress between the legs of his milling men—he’d been content to leave the meeting until later. Actually, he’d felt relief on avoiding the meeting as he’d walked away.
Connall was finding this business of marriage rather dismaying. He agreed with his cousin, Cathal, that it was necessary, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. In truth, he had put the actual doing of the deed off these last months while Cathal had gone out and found himself a bride back in the spring. Connall supposed he had been waiting to see how that turned out before bothering about it himself. In the end, it had turned out surprisingly well. His cousin’s bride, Bridget, suited Cathal perfectly and the pair were now enjoying wedded bliss. If Connall’s own marriage went half as well, he’d be content.
That thought brought Eva Caxton to mind. Theirs was not a great love match, but he had met and liked the girl when he’d spoken to her, though not so much that he had decided to marry her then. In fact, when he had finally decided that it was time to stop putting off his duty and to get married, he had at first found himself stumped as to who to marry. He could hardly count on his Nightriders to stumble upon a lass in distress and carry her home to him to wed as had happened with Cathal and Bridget. As for contracting a marriage in the usual way, that had seemed an unlikely event for him to manage. His clan did not enjoy a good reputation just at present what with the rumors about their ancestry and such coming back into question. Connall had almost thought he’d set himself an impossible task, then he had recalled his enforced visit to court.
His presence had been demanded there to stamp out the rumors about him and his people. Now that the English had signed the treaty of Picquigny with France and were keeping up their truce with Scotland, it seemed that good King James had a desire to see peace in his own small part of the world. He’d demanded Connall and his cousin Cathal’s presence at court to help silence the rumors around their clans. Cathal had managed to avoid the task, but Connall had made the journey…and a hellish one it had been too. It was while he was there that he had met and spoken to Eva Caxton. He had passed only a few moments in her company, but she had stuck in his mind, and Connall had asked about her, only to learn that her brother had brought her to court to try to find her a husband.
Normally, this would not have been a problem for such a lovely young girl, but the brother was said to be a greedy miser who hoarded the gold he’d been left by his wealthy parents and claimed poverty to all who would listen. He was trying to palm her off without a dower, and had been failing miserably at the task since everyone at court knew that his smoke screen about poverty was just so much nonsense.
Eva Caxton had left court the day before Connall had, and without a marriage offer. Deciding that if she were still available, she would do as well as anyone else, Connall had counted on her brother’s greed to aid in the endeavor and had sent Ewan and five men with gold to barter for her. He had fully expected that—so long as she was still available—Ewan would be bringing him back a bride. And he had, of course, though Ewan had claimed it was a close thing. Jonathan Caxton had been all set to shuffle the girl off to an abbey the very day after Ewan and the men had arrived. Had Connall hesitated about the decision just one more day, she would have been beyond his reach and he would have been left to find another family desperate—or greedy—enough to sell him a daughter of the house.
Connall wasn’t sure whether he should be glad the task was done or not. He supposed it at least meant one problem was taken care of. Now he just had to get the woman with child and—
“We should hold a proper wedding now she’s here.”
Connall’s thoughts died abruptly at that suggestion from his mother. “What? Why? Ewan stood in fer me at the proxy wedding. Tis all legal. Or will be once we consummate it.”
“Aye, but
surely ’twouldn’t hurt to hold a small ceremony here to make it all official—”
“The proxy wedding was official,” Connall interrupted.
“Aye, but ye werenae there fer it.”
“So?”
Magaidh sighed. “Do ye feel married, son?”
Connall paused to consider the matter. In truth, he didn’t feel any different than he had the day before, or the day before that and he had to wonder with some irritation, just what being married was supposed to feel like.
“Ye see.” Magaidh didn’t bother to hide her satisfaction. “Ye doona, do ye?”
Connall scowled, unwilling to admit anything of the sort. Another wedding was nothing but a waste to his mind, but his mother was determined to argue the case.
“It’d be better fer both o’ ye. I doubt the proxy wedding was anything more than a couple o’ words spoken by the priest and contracts signed.” Magaidh raised an eyebrow at Ewan as she suggested that, satisfaction suffusing her face when he gave a brief nod of agreement. “I doubt Eva feels any more married than ye. And it will give our people the chance to see her and see that yer married as well.”
Connall closed his mouth on the protest he had been about to launch as Magaidh’s last words caught his attention. It wouldn’t be a bad thing for their people to witness the event, and he really should be sure she was recognized by one and all as his bride…and under his protection.
“Ewan, we need a priest,” he announced firmly.
“I shall see to it, m’laird.” The man was on his feet at once and moving toward the door to the keep.
“Jest send someone fer him,” Connall instructed. “Then rest. Ye’ve had a long journey.”
“Aye, m’laird.” The door closed behind him with a thud.
Three
Eva awoke at once. There was no slow stirring to wakefulness, no abrupt jerking awake, she simply rolled onto her back, opened her eyes and felt alert and awake. Pleasantly so. Remaining where she lay for a moment, she let her eyes drift around the large luxurious room where she had slept. It was much more welcoming than her own room had ever been.
But she supposed this was her room now. At least, she hoped so. It looked like it might belong to the laird of a wealthy clan. That thought reminded her that she was married now. It was an odd thought. Eva didn’t feel married, though she wasn’t sure what being married should feel like. She felt no different than she had every day of her life for some time now. Well, perhaps that wasn’t true. She did feel a bit odd. She was in a strange place, with strange people around her. And now had a husband who would share her life and her bed.
That last thought made her glance abruptly to the right side of the bed. It was empty. For one moment she had considered that her husband may have joined her after she had fallen asleep. But it would appear not. Eva was mostly relieved about this, but felt a touch of concern too. Why hadn’t her husband joined her last night in what was most likely his own bed? He hadn’t bothered to greet her on her arrival yesterday either. This seemed odd to her.
Eva hadn’t really contemplated the welcome she’d expected on arriving at MacAdie, but had she taken the time and trouble to, she certainly wouldn’t have expected it to be what had happened. Her husband had neither greeted her on her arrival, nor even come to see her as she ate her meal after her bath. Now, it appeared, he hadn’t joined her in his own bed…Unless he had and had already risen to greet the day.
That thought made her glance toward the fur covered window. How late in the morning was it? Perhaps she had slept through his arrival and leave taking. Perhaps he had slept here. Where else would he sleep?
Pushing the furs aside, Eva slid her feet to the floor, giving a delicate shudder at the cool straw underfoot. Despite it being summer, the night had been cool and even now there was still a nip to the morning air, but the furs piled on the bed had kept her warm and snug. Leaving them reluctantly behind, she scampered quickly to the window and drew the fur aside enough to see out into the bailey below. A wave of warm air struck her face and she saw that the sun was high in the sky. By her guess it must be mid-morning and guilt nagged her at once. She’d slept quite late. This was hardly the way to impress her new husband.
Eva let the fur fall back into place, then just as quickly pulled it aside once more. It was warmer outside than it was in the room at the moment. The furs had kept the warmer air out this morning, just as effectively as they had kept the worst of the cold air out last night. Finding a bit of cloth lying on the stone ledge of the window, Eva tied the fur back, glanced briefly down into the busy bustling bailey again, then turned back to the now sunlit room.
She would dress and go below to break her fast and finally meet her husband, she decided, then immediately began to consider what to wear. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of choice in the matter; there was the faded blue gown she’d worn for the journey here, or the threadbare grey gown she’d brought in her satchel.
Eva grimaced to herself as she glanced around in search of her satchel. The grey gown would be wrinkled, but it would be fresh in comparison to the dust covered blue one. She was trying to recall where she had set her satchel on entering the room the night before when a soft tapping sounded at the door. Giving up on the bag for now, Eva scampered back to bed and climbed in, then dragged the furs up to her neck and held them there as she called, “Enter.”
The door opened at once and the servant girl who had helped her with her bath the night before poked her head inside. Spotting her sitting up in bed, Glynis smiled widely. “Yer oop.”
The redhead slid into the room and nearly danced to the bed, waving a bundle of rose colored cloth in hand. “Lady Magaidh said to bring this oop to ye.”
“Oh,” Eva breathed out the word as the girl shifted the material and held it up for her to see. It was a gown, and quite the finest one Eva had ever seen. Tossing the bedclothes aside again, she crawled to the edge of the bed and reached out to brush the tips of her fingers gently over the soft cloth. “It’s lovely. Are you sure ’tis for me?”
“Aye.” The maid looked as excited as if the gown were for herself. “Last night, I took yer two gowns below. I was plannin’ to wash the one and hang the other to let the wrinkles out, but when Lady Magaidh saw them, she said “They simply wouldna do.” Glynis grinned. “And she fetched this one fer ye. She said ’twas more befitting the Lady MacAdie. And she said ’tis yours now. Ye’ll look lovely in it, m’lady.”
“Oh.” Eva breathed again, then blinked her eyes in alarm. Tears had filled them at the kindness. Embarrassed, she dashed them quickly away, then scrambled off the bed to claim the gown. Glynis grinned as she held it against herself and turned in a circle. Eva thought it was the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen. Certainly it was the most beautiful gown she’d ever owned. “Is it really mine?”
“Aye. Lady Magaidh said so. And she said we’d be havin’ to see to a whole new wardrobe fer ye. One that befits the bride of the MacAdie.”
“For me?” Eva asked with amazement. A whole wardrobe. How many gowns was that? She’d never had more than two at a time, sometimes only the one.
“Come, m’lady. I’ll fix yer hair and help ye to dress.” Glynis beamed widely. “I’m to be yer lady’s maid.” Her smile faltered briefly and she added an uncertain, “If ye think I’ll do, that is. Lady Magaidh will assign anoother girl if yer no pleased—”
“I’m well pleased with you as my maid, Glynis,” she assured her quickly and was relieved when the other girl began to smile again, but she had meant what she’d said; Eva felt sure that the two of them would get on just fine. Glynis had been very sweet and kind with her last night as she’d helped Eva with her bath and preparing for bed. Eva was certain that she had made the right decision several minutes later when Glynis finished working on her hair and presented a small mirror for her to see how she looked. The young maid had worked miracles. The little redhead had managed to make Eva look beautiful and that was not a word she had ever thought she’d use
to describe herself, but she felt beautiful at that moment as she peered at herself in the small mirror.
Glynis had collected every last strand of Eva’s golden runaway tresses and put them up on top of her head, then dressed it with ribbons of matching rose that Magaidh had apparently sent with the gown. Eva felt like a princess.
“Tis all right, is it not, m’lady?”
Recognizing the anxiety in the girl’s voice, Eva forced herself to stop staring at her reflected image and turned to give the maid an impulsive hug.
“Tis more than all right, Glynis,” she assured her as she stepped back. “You’ve worked miracles. Thank you.”
Flushing with pleasure at the compliment, Glynis took the mirror Eva handed back. “Yer mair than welcome, m’lady. Tis jest glad I am that yer pleased.”
“More than pleased,” Eva assured her, standing and brushing her hands down the soft cloth of the gown she wore. “Do you think Cook could find me something to eat? I know ’tis late in the day, but—”
“Oh aye, Cook has a lovely repast all set fer ye,” Glynis interrupted to assure her. “Lady Magaidh warned her as ye’d probably sleep late after yer long journey, so she served normal breakfast fer everyone else, and made a special one fer ye. I was jest coming to check on ye when Ewan informed her ye were up, so she’s like to have it all ready fer ye by now.”
“Ewan informed her?” Eva blinked in surprise. “How did he know I was up?”
“He saw ye in the window, m’lady,” she explained, then seeing Eva’s embarrassment, added a reassuring smile. “Ye should go below and see what Cook fixed fer ye ere it gets cold.”
“Aye.” Eva shrugged away her mild embarrassment at being spotted in the window in the borrowed nightdress and turned toward the door. It was doubtful the man had seen much but her small figure from wherever he’d been in the bailey when she peered out, she assured herself, then paused at the door when she realized that Glynis wasn’t following her. “Are you not coming?”