by Kara Griffin
“Before I decide if it’s worth my time, tell me, Gordy, what value does she bring besides herself?” Grey almost laughed when he noticed his guardsmen nodding.
Gordy’s voice cracked on his first word. “Salt. She brings trunks of it, Laird. My cousin told me she is from a prosperous family. The lady is known to be a—”
Duff shoved his chest. “Be a what? Are ye insulting the lady?”
“A good cook, Laird, aye. My cousin is traveling with the lady and they will take rest at the Abbey near the crossing before moving on. They have a long journey.”
“Laird, you could use a good cook. Anna’s cooking is atrocious.” That came from Colm.
The guards laughed, but his comment didn’t amuse Grey. Though he had to admit he’d hoped for a good meal at least once during the sennight. The lass’ cooking was horrible. Each night he’d make excuses not to have to eat the fare. He and his guard had even taken to hiding the fare so her feelings wouldn’t be hurt. Truth be told, he’d rather eat bark from a tree than Anna’s cooking.
“Are ye smiling, Laird?” Greer asked.
“Well, damn me, I am … cheerful at the thought of not having to eat Anna’s cooking. Och the thought of snatching MacHeth’s bride brings me more joy.”
Duff grunted. “Payback, aye, Laird? A bride for a bride?”
The men’s mood instantly changed. They went from jesting and joyous to sullen and solemn. Each wore a grave face and their bodies tensed.
“We don’t know if MacHeth was involved in Albrey’s disappearance.” Grey grew somber too. He hadn’t spoken Albrey’s name in so long; it felt odd speaking it.
They had no proof that Kenneth MacHeth took any part in what happened to Albrey Mackay. Yet right afterward, the clan had an uprising and Kenneth declared himself laird. All Mackay followers had no choice but to submit to MacHeth or flee into the hills. Grey’s own father was hard-pressed to take action since no one could prove anything.
To make matters worse, Albrey’s family blamed the Gunns for her disappearance because she’d vanished on their land. All hope of any alliance though was out of the question. The Mackays promised Grey a bride and never followed through. Grey knew only one person who would harm the lass and that man was Kenneth MacHeth.
Grey swore he would never marry when Albrey disappeared. Deep down, he felt he’d failed in his duty. He promised to protect her and yet she had been taken. Of course, he’d been young then, certainly not old enough to protect a child. He was a child himself. But a promise was a promise though, and to him, he hadn’t kept his word.
There was no trace of Albrey. Grey’s father, God rest his soul, took him on a journey to search for her. They even went to England and stepped foot on that soil to look for her, even though his father avowed never to do so.
“How much time do we have, Gordy?” Colm asked.
“You have a few days, at best. My cousin said they would be traveling slow because of the trunks.”
Kenneth grinned and raised his brow. “She must be a delicate lady. What I want to know, lad, is … How bonny is she? Did ye get a look at her?”
Greer and James grabbed Gordy’s arms, provoking him to tell the truth.
“Aye, I did see her, but only for a few seconds when I met my cousin at the door.”
“Well, what did she look like?” Duff asked.
“The smells coming from within were heavenly, Laird. Made my stomach ache to have some of her food. Never smelled anything like that before. My cousin gave me a bowl of pottage. I swear my tongue tasted heaven. Whatever she put in it, was the best thing I ever ate.” Gordy kept his expression serious.
Greer smirked. “We don’t want to hear about the food, Gordy. We want to know about the lady. Was she comely, shapely, did she have good sized breasts? Come, lad, details …”
“I got a peek at her and she is very bonny. She has golden hair. It is long and wavy, looks like silk. But what struck me was when she turned and looked …”
All the men stood silently staring at the lad, hanging on his every word, mouths agape. Grey became disgusted by their behavior. “And?”
“Did you blush like a wee lassie, Gordy?” Greer asked, punching Gordy’s arm. “Aye, you’re greener than our pastures. Did she bring ye to your knees? I bet she did.”
“Nay, of course not. I thought an angel was peering at me. She has the prettiest eyes I ever saw. They are bluer than the sky. Her voice is soft and sounded like an angel’s.”
“Och, then she may be more valuable than salt,” Kenneth said in jest.
The warriors released Gordy’s arms and after bowing to him, he took off. Hell, the lad hadn’t even waited to be dismissed. Grey decided to forgive him. He’d be running too if he was in Gordy’s boots.
It was then that the sky decided to open and rain began falling hard. Grey welcomed the cool rain on his skin, as did his men, who walked beside him as if it were a mere shower. Heat from the day cooled in an instant when the fat raindrops cut through the thick air.
As he ambled toward the keep, he said, “We leave at first light. Greer, you’ll be left in charge whilst I’m gone. See to the preparations.”
“Why me, Laird? I want to see the lady.”
He raised an eyebrow in silent question of Greer’s disobedience. “Do you honestly think Duff will be left behind? I trust you’ll see to things whilst we’re away.”
Greer accepted the position with a nod and a grunt, but he gave Duff a killing look.
He and his men reached the keep and strode inside. A foul odor came from the table and in disgust he bade Kenneth to take the food to the hounds. Certain the dogs wouldn’t want such gruesome fare either. It’d be left for stray animals that happened by, if they were hungry enough to risk their lives.
“I’m off, Laird, to arrange tomorrow’s duties. I’ll see you before you leave for any instructions,” Greer said, and when Grey gave him a nod, he left the hall.
Duff joined him at the table and they discussed the route they would take. During their discussion, a woman entered the hall and asked Colm if she could have a word with the laird.
Grey overheard the woman’s request and turned to see who she was. He didn’t recognize her, but bid her to come to him. The woman wore her muted brown hair in a coif, covered by a strip of fabric. It was her eyes though that Grey tried to assess, but she kept them lowered.
“Laird Gunn, I don’t know if you remember me … I came for the summer solstice feast a few years back. I’m from the Dunmore clan.”
“Aye? Welcome. Will you take a seat and tell me why you have come?”
The child she held wiggled in her arms wanting to be set down. When she was denied her freedom, the child wailed. A louder sound he never heard. By the grace of God, the lass quieted when the woman set her on the floor.
“I … we should have privacy for our … discussion,” she said, looking at Duff.
“Duff is my second in command and is privy to all my business.”
“Oh.” The woman looked at the rushes and mumbled, “Well, laird, we … that is, when I visited we slept together and I bore a child as a result.” She blurted it out rather fast.
Grey scowled at her words and he wasn’t certain he heard her correctly. He hadn’t even remembered her. “Who are you and when did you say this happened?”
“Janice, Laird Gunn. You don’t recall waking and making me leave your chamber? It was during the festival, here.”
“Which festival?” he asked, his impatience wearing thin.
“’Twas during the summer solstice a few years ago. Our clan was invited to partake …”
Grey frowned, trying to recall the woman and the festival, but neither was familiar. The Dunmore clan hadn’t been invited for a few years since the Dunmore’s aligned with the MacHeths. Then he recalled the festival in which they’d found the barrels of brew and many drank to the point of inebriation.
He’d drunk far too much and happened to find a woman warming his bed. Nevertheless, G
rey didn’t remember much more after that, except when he’d awakened during the night he was alone. At the time, he considered he’d dreamed the events of the night.
“You say the child is mine?”
“Aye, she is yours.”
“And you know this for certain?” Grey took a formidable stance, giving the woman a stern glare. Yet she didn’t coward away from him.
“I had not been with any other around that time, Laird Gunn. I have no means to take care of her and well … I am to marry.”
Grey was sickened by the woman’s attitude. The Dunmores were uncaring banshees. What kind of lady would give her child away without a thought? He looked at the wee lass and saw her peeking at him from behind the woman. The sprite didn’t resemble him or her mother.
“You have no care for the child?”
“Nay, I do not. She is a Gunn. My husband wouldn’t want another man’s child, especially a Gunn, in our household. I will leave her in your care.”
Grey couldn’t believe the woman’s audacity. If anything he’d save the child from a hellish life with such a banshee. “If that is your wish.”
“Aye, ‘tis, laird. She is a handful, but she does have a good heart. Mind you, she cannot hear. I don’t know why, but there it is. I have brought her belongings and will have them fetched.”
The woman turned to leave and Grey called out to her. “What’s her name?”
“Sunny, Laird Gunn, her name is Sunny. She’s three summers.” With that, the woman set the child in his lap and left.
Duff laughed his arse off. “Saddled with your own bastard, Laird. Grey, you dog. I never knew you had a woman that night. Why didn’t you say something?”
“Why would I? Christ Almighty, I don’t remember being with her. I doubt she’s telling the truth, but it is better the child’s left here. What the hell am I going to do with a child?”
“You’re asking me? I say you find some womenfolk to come and care for her. There are plenty of women who would gladly volunteer.”
Grey was beside himself. As he looked down at the sprite, she reminded him of another wee lass who had as much spirit. The lass raised herself upward and clasped his neck with her wee arms. She didn’t make a sound, only hugged him. Her blonde curls tickling his cheek.
“Will you ask Bea and Nell to come and stay at the keep? They’re free of responsibilities, having no family. But if they don’t want to, find others.” The two women helped before, preparing for company he’d received. Bea had yet to marry. Nell’s husband, Joseph, a worthy Gunn warrior, died in battle only a year prior. They didn’t seem to mind serving in the laird’s keep, which is why he’d thought of them in the first place. He hoped they’d be amiable, because he’d be leaving the child in their care.
Duff left whistling a cheerful tune.
“A daughter. Figures,” Grey said to himself. The wee lass backed enough to see him and smiled, her small teeth shiny and bright. “Well a daughter might not be so bad. You’ll be a good lass and listen to your da.” A sudden severity came to him saying those words.
He never expected to father to a child, and one which reminded him of Albrey at that. Though he’d been with a few women, he’d always been careful. His responsibilities were far too time consuming and he had no desire to wed and raise a family. At least, he hadn’t thought of the desire since he’d been a lad, when his life was destined for a different path. Had his heart hardened beyond repair?
He didn’t need such a hindrance in his life, but it seemed what he wanted didn’t much matter. Grey supposed he did have room in his heart for a daughter. Life was about to become far more complicated.
CHAPTER FOUR
Leaving was easier than she imagined. Bree envisioned a tearful goodbye, but for all the years she spent with the Champlains, they sent her on her way without much fanfare. Her father claimed he couldn’t say goodbye and went hunting with some of his men. He was absent from the farewell, which was probably for the best. Bree would have broken down if her father showed any emotion.
Her mother wept silently on the steps of the manor. Bree took heart and made enough of her special sweet cakes to last her a fortnight. Melinda cried about wanting trunks of herbs like Bree and carried on. Her screaming could likely be heard in the village a mile from the fief. Bree expected some comfort from them, but she should have known she’d get none.
The only person to show sorrow was Rhys, who hugged her for nearly five minutes before letting go. It was Cait’s insistence which finally got him to release her. She’d miss her dear friend and hoped one day she might return to him. If what he’d said was true, he would have married her. Marriage to Rhys was more acceptable than marrying someone she didn’t know. He loved her which was something she always wanted, to be loved.
Love. Any sort of love would do, and his was the kind of love a woman dreamt of. Until she was assured she wouldn’t be hunted by the MacHeths, she couldn’t return and risk his safety.
For three days, Bree and Cait waited for some sign the Gunns were coming. She began to give up hope they’d been given the message. The friar at the Abbey didn’t take well to having women staying within, though with a few coins were persuaded to allow them inside overnight. Finally, they could delay no further. When the commander of the baron’s guard insisted they depart from the Abbey, they had no choice but to continue the journey.
The trek became wearisome and long. Bree grew bored at watching the scenery, even though the countryside was beautiful. The weather warmed and the nights weren’t so chilly when they made camp. She was happy to be making the journey during summer rather than winter.
Bree rode next to Cait; each had been given their own palfrey. Beyond them, two carts carried six small trunks of salt, one large trunk full of her precious herbs, and one other trunk holding their belongings. Cait insisted in bringing all their belongings, because she had no intension of ever returning. The marriage procession wasn’t as grand as some.
Four outriders took position, riding alongside her and Cait for their protection. Two others rode ahead of the procession and another two behind. In all there were eight men defending her. Cait whispered eight men were no match for one Gunn warrior. Bree would have laughed at her fabrication, but her friend seemed to believe that statement.
After riding for most of the day, Bree finally got up the courage to ask Commander Bennett if they might stop to rest. Never would she question the baron’s guard, but enough was enough. She and Cait were not men and should be allowed rest when needed. He agreed, and Cait shouted a halleluiah when they dismounted.
Once the horses were cared for, the men began setting up a tent for her and Cait to sleep in. Cait had been on her best behavior and hadn’t encouraged any of the men during the trip. She hadn’t even shared a kiss with one of them, a very rare event indeed. Bree wanted to tease Cait about it, but kept quiet. The baron’s soldiers were not used to her jesting. Bree wasn’t about to let her guard down even though it didn’t much matter how she acted now.
She set a cover on the ground and then searched for twigs so she could build a fire. Before doing so, she asked Commander Bennett if it was safe. He didn’t seem to think it wasn’t or it mattered. Bree set the kindling to the fire she started and began making pottage. She poured in water Cait retrieved from a nearby stream, along with some spices and some dried meat in a small cauldron she’d brought. She then added a few turnips and carrots. Before long, the aroma of the stew drew the guard and she found herself surrounded by them, all crowded on her small cover.
She was happy to share the pottage with them. It gave her pleasure to cook for others. During the meal, she noticed the silence of the forest. All she heard were the sounds of the men eating, but what struck her odd was there were no sounds of birds, insects, or animals. There weren’t any early-evening noises one could usually make out this time of year. There had to be an animal close by. She hoped it wasn’t a wolf or a boar. Concerned, Bree looked around at the nearby woods, but she didn’t notice a
nything out of the ordinary or see glowing eyes amongst the trees.
After finishing the last of the carrots, she tossed aside the broadleaf she’d used to hold her pottage. “I am going to rest. Cait, can you clean up?”
Cait nodded, before returning her attention back to her food.
“Sleep well,” she mumbled.
Inside the tent, Bree readied for bed. She undid her gown, welcoming the relief from the summer heat. Throughout the day, the sun beat down on them and she was happy to finally remove the heavy fabric of her travel garments. She slept in her undergarments; thankful the shift was thin-threaded. Using her rolled up overdress for a pillow, she settled down.
Unable to sleep, Bree worried, tossing and turning. One thought led to another and before long, she wondered if the Gunns would come. And if they didn’t come, what would happen to her once she reached the MacHeth holding? Would the MacHeth laird force her to marry his choice? What manner of man would he be? Then her thoughts turned to the Champlains. If she negated the MacHeth laird’s demand, would he take revenge on them? She wouldn’t let that happen. Barron Thomas and Lady Millie had been kind. She couldn’t repay their kindness by being selfish, but her safety was at issue.
Then thoughts of why her real family discarded her kept intruding on her ability to form a good plan. She wondered if they had really sent her away because of tension within the clan. She’d always believed she’d done something terribly wrong, and then she thought that nonsense. What could a child do that was so dreadful to have been sent away? Bree wanted to believe they’d sent her away because of war, but she knew of no parent who would willingly send their child away. If they’d cared for her, they would have kept her close by and had found a way to protect her.
There had to be a way to get out of this situation, but the solution escaped her. Bree was a planner by nature and liked organization, especially in her kitchen. She didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s troubles. Besides, she couldn’t come up with a plan which afforded her safety and that of the Champlains.