When she had not come down for dinner, Selah had sent someone for her. Hamish had felt his jaw actually drop when the servant returned and said Mairead had retired early for the evening and was already asleep. Until then, he had thought the sparks that flew between them had been plaguing her thoughts as much as his own. Unfortunately, knowing that was not the case had not lessened the turmoil going on inside of him.
He wanted Mairead more than he had ever wanted any other woman. But it was more than a physical craving; he loved spending time with her. He loved looking at her, laughing with her. He even enjoyed arguing with her. If he had met her a year ago, he would have already pronounced to the world that he had fallen in love. And he would have been right. For he now knew that he never loved anyone before Mairead. Those rejections that had hurt so much at the time had wounded his pride—not his heart.
But with Mairead, his heart really was in jeopardy. His only protection was to keep such feelings to himself. Because saying them aloud did not bring happiness; it only brought pain. No, this time before he succumbed to any emotion—especially to the ones building inside him—he was going to be absolutely positive they were returned. And right now, that was dubious.
She desired him. But did she love him? Could she love him enough to leave Foinaven, her beloved home, and the last of her family—her sister? Hamish was not sure any woman could love him enough to do that and not regret the decision.
Crash!
Hamish stepped back out into the courtyard to see several of the older boys wrestling with one another. Their faces were familiar for he had seen them running around and annoying the servants. Like their fathers, they were bored waiting for planting season. Being so young, they were teeming with energy and had no place to release it. Their mothers had probably chased them out of their homes and to keep from being yelled at, they had come to Foinaven to pass the time. Most found the havoc they created to entertain themselves extremely vexing, but Hamish found their presence fortuitous.
Hamish walked toward a rotund merchant. His plump face was bright red with fury and Hamish could not blame him. A half dozen boys had been wrestling with one another, rolling and tackling, unaware and uncaring of what was in their path. When one boy tackled another, the two collided into a parked cart, carrying a box of clay pots. The impact sent the pots flying and when they landed they all broke but one.
Upon seeing the merchant grab the back of two of the boys’ leines, the rest of the lads stopped fighting and hid. Hamish was not sure just what the merchant intended to do. He suspected the merchant did not know either.
Hamish arrived at the scene and gave his most withering look to both lads. “I’ll deal with these two.” His voice was cold and he saw both pairs of eyes grow wide with fear. “I’m standing in for Robert until he is well.”
The merchant lived in the village and had seen and heard of Hamish as a soldier, but this was a matter of commerce, not battle. “These delinquents cost me this month’s wages.”
Hamish doubted it was a whole month, but the man did have a point. “I will have Mairead meet with you and see that you are appropriately compensated for your loss.” Then Hamish looked down, staring hard at one lad and then the other. “Which means you will need to reimburse Foinaven for its loss.”
One boy swallowed and fear completely took over the other at the thought of going home and telling their fathers. It was clear they knew neither of their families earned enough to pay for the pots.
Hamish gestured for the merchant to let them go. He did and then huffed as Hamish pulled them to the side so that he could go back to what he was doing before being interrupted. One boy glared at the other and just before he was shoved in retaliation, Hamish got their attention. “Just what are you two arguing over?”
“He,” one boy said with a sneer, “says Ulrick could fight the Mackays when everyone knows they are the most fearsome warriors of the north.”
“Are they now?” Hamish asked.
The other lad crossed his arms, gave a withering look to his opponent, and nodded. “My da says Ulrick could rip them to shreds. He says the Mackays are cowards that were off their lands. And his sister,” he said, pointing to the other boy, “married one of them, making him a coward too.”
“Ulrick is a cheater where the Mackays are the meanest Highlanders in all of Scotland. They gut people and leave their entrails to be eaten by vultures.” The shout was followed by a shove and Hamish had to pull them both apart.
“First, it is true that the Mackays were forced out of Moray and resettled nearby.” He looked at the first lad, who was indignant. “But that was long ago. I happen to know King Robert personally and can tell you that he is very appreciative to have such strong warriors on his side.” The lad relaxed a little and gave him a nod.
Hamish turned to the other lad. “Your father is correct. Ulrick is a sly fighter and is willing to use any means to slay a foe. I have seen him many times to be ruthless in his approach. I cannot say that I find many of his tactics honorable, but they are usually successful.”
The boy swallowed. Hamish had just told him that in a way he was right about Ulrick, but he got the feeling that he was fighting for the wrong side.
“I hope that was a worthwhile thing to fight about because you both will be spending some time repaying their costs.” The boys looked at each other and then at Hamish blinking rapidly. They had thought they were going to have to go home and attempt to get the payment from their fathers. Severe punishment would certainly follow, but Hamish spoke as if they could pay him back, not their parents. “I think hauling rocks will keep you out of trouble,” Hamish continued. “Not small ones either. And I want them in two piles, one on either side of the castle gates. I’ll pay you wages, which will go to reimburse the pots, but once done, if you do a good job and work hard, you can stay on and keep the additional wages you earn.”
Both boys had gone from afraid, to relieved, to shocked, and were now almost busting with excitement. “Aye, we will!” they both shouted simultaneously.
Before they could dart off and brag about what had happened, Hamish put up a hand to stop them. “And tell your friends that I saw them. I know who they are and they too have to help, for they contributed to the damage.”
“You’ll pay them?” one lad asked, still not quite believing that he was about to get wages.
“Aye. Now go and the next time I see any of your faces, you better be hauling rocks.”
Both boys nodded in agreement and then immediately ran off to find their friends.
“Keep their wages?” The question came from the merchant who had been lurking behind him. Hamish was unsurprised. The man had looked disappointed when Hamish had pulled the lads aside. He had wanted to hear them being punished and threatened, not rewarded.
“They will be earning it.”
The merchant blew out his already chubby cheeks. “Aye, hauling rocks is laborious, but they need to learn a lesson.”
Hamish thought about teaching the merchant a lesson on eavesdropping but decided that it was not worth it. “What would you prefer? Punished lads seeking ways for revenge? Or lads learning the value of a hard day’s work while keeping them and their friends from causing men like you any trouble.”
The merchant twitched his lips and then after a moment shrugged before going back to his cart and broken pots.
Hamish headed for the keep, feeling much better. He had intended the boys to start collecting rocks a couple of days ago when he had last seen them causing problems, but he had been unable to. Mairead had been there and would have thought his actions were a direct result of her meddling. He valued her input, but he was not about to let her think that she could dictate his actions. That precedent would haunt him for years.
Years? He closed his eyes shut. What was he thinking? When had he started thinking of their relationship in years? When had he started thinking of her and him in a relationship?
What he needed was distance. Maybe he should go tell Selah
and Robert that he was going to spend a couple of days with Amon and his family. Hopefully, a little time would give him the perspective he needed.
“Hamish?”
Hamish’s eyes snapped open. Mairead was exiting the keep and heading straight for him. God, she looked radiant. Positive energy poured out of her. She looked fresh and vibrant. Certainly not like a woman who had any difficulty sleeping.
“Hamish?” she repeated as she came to stand before him.
He made a mistake and inhaled. “What?!” he bellowed, and moved to go around her. He knew he had no reason to bark at her, but women who smelled like her should be locked up.
Mairead froze with her mouth open in shock. She only came back to her senses when she realized he was about to enter the keep and disappear into his room. She ran and caught up with him just in time. As she grabbed on to his forearm, he stopped. “I know that you are frustrated,” she said, “but I can help.”
Aye, she could help. Starting with letting go. “I’m not frustrated.”
“Of course you are,” Mairead pressed. She then lowered her voice. “But I can help. I know how to identify just which guards are moles for Ulrick.”
That’s why she thought he was grumpy? The moles? And he had thought she could read him so well. Then again, Hamish was relieved that in this case she could not. For he certainly did not want her knowing that he had barely slept last night because his mind could not stop thinking about her. A problem she obviously had not shared, based on her irritating cheerfulness. He really needed to put space between them and get some clarity.
“Explain,” he said in a low voice, his gut warning him that he should just leave. That by even listening to her he was about to get himself into trouble.
Ten minutes later, Hamish entered his chambers. His gut had been right. And while Mairead’s idea would probably work, it meant that he was going to have to spend the entire afternoon with her.
So much for perspective and clarity.
* * *
Mairead leaned her small sword against the stone fence next to where Hamish was standing and then hopped up to sit on the waist-high stone wall. She was breathing hard and was glad to be able to sit. The stone hedge was one of many the farmers used to delineate boundaries, to corral livestock and mark farmland. She had actually helped build this particular wall almost ten years ago. Made of granite cleared from the fields, the double dyke consisted of two stone walls built parallel to each other that was then filled with smaller rocks and covered with a smooth, rounded cope stone.
Most farmers erected single dyke walls by simply piling stones on top of one another. It was quicker, but it also meant that every couple of years they would have to take precious time to fix, and oftentimes completely rebuild, large sections again. Then Robert had offered an alternative that he had learned as an apprentice. He showed the farmers how to construct the wall using an interlocking pattern so that the weight of the stones created enough pressure to keep them in place. No mortar was needed to create stability and it required very little maintenance. The wall looked the same as it did the year it was built and Mairead suspected that unless someone took it down, it could potentially be there for hundreds of years.
Hamish kept his eyes anywhere but on Mairead. She was still breathing heavily and it was very distracting. He also knew that he was not the only one to notice. “I have a water bag attached to my saddle.”
Mairead nodded and went to go get it. Her latest sparring partner watched as she sauntered up to the horse. Hamish coughed and forced his face to remain impassive, when he really wanted to punch the man for appreciating some of Mairead’s most delectable attributes.
“Anything else?” the man asked.
Hamish unclenched his jaw. “Aye. You did well. You can return.” It was a lie, of course. Any soldier who could not defeat Mairead within seconds was near worthless in battle and Mairead had sparred with him for almost three minutes.
They had told all the guards to meet out in the large field just outside Foinaven in small groups. That Mairead was insisting she show Hamish the skills of the soldiers. He had suggested they face each other, but Mairead had insisted on sparring with them.
The man flicked his wrist, swinging the two-handed longsword in the air. “You impressed?”
Hamish looked at the weapon. It was dull and dented, but it would not have mattered if it was fresh from the silversmith. The man wielding it was a poor soldier. But like most of the ones Hamish had seen, the man had the potential to be fairly good, with the right training. “It’s evident that you’ve held the weapon before.”
The man grinned, taking Hamish’s words as a compliment. He lowered the blade and shifted his gaze back to Hamish. “And if I was lacking in skill?”
Hamish shrugged indifferently. “Then that would be the problem of Foinaven’s permanent commander. Not mine.” He pointed to the group in the distance. “You can tell the next two to come up.”
The guard glanced at Mairead, who was pushing the stopper back into the water bag. “You want two? Not one?” he asked continuing to blatantly stare at her.
Hamish felt his anger rise but outwardly forced himself to remain relaxed. “I’ve appeased Mairead enough,” he said nonchalantly. The man was trouble and Hamish had no inclination to teach him a lesson and stifle the man’s arrogance. “If we do not speed this thing up, we will be out here in the rain and I’m cold enough.”
The guard flashed him a crooked smile, then returned his gaze to Mairead. When she looked at him, he gave her a nod and turned around to stroll back toward Foinaven. As he passed the dwindling group, he gestured and the next two men started coming toward them.
Hamish glanced at Mairead, glad she had taken her time. Her delay had been intentional. She knew the guard was going to say something and elected to be out of earshot when he did. Hamish still could not believe he let her spar with the man, but Mairead would not be dissuaded. He could tell the men were refraining from using their full strength, but Mairead had made them work nonetheless.
She was fast and accurate and had great balance and focus, but it was clear that she lacked the strength and weight to wield even a lighter, shorter sword against a man. Mairead knew it though and had resorted to distraction to help her odds—and it had worked. The woman had flirted, and laughed, and teased with each one of them. When she flirted with the first man, it had taken everything Hamish had to keep from ending this insane idea of hers. But Hamish refused to let her know that he was jealous—more than he had ever been in his life. And secondly, her idea was working.
Mairead re-hooked the water bottle and then came back to lean on the wall next to him. “Lumley is definitely one of Ulrick’s men.”
“Aye.” The man was a weasel. Hamish had sensed it a few days ago when he had met with all the men. Most had been wary to talk in the beginning, but not only had Lumley been eager to talk, he had asked bold questions for just a guard. Hamish answered them, which made the man even more cocky. His ill-placed arrogance did not concern Hamish. The more overconfident he was, the easier it would be to use him later. Arrogant men tended not to be suspicious.
“He hangs around a lot with Jollis.”
Hamish nodded. “You were right. I can definitely see the difference in how Lumley attacked versus the two men before him.” He patted the wall next to him, hinting for her to sit down. “And now that I know what to look for, you don’t need to prove yourself with a sword anymore.”
Mairead grimaced but hopped back onto the wall. She was tired and was not sure that she could have continued even if Hamish was asking her to stop. “And did I?” He arched a brow at her. “Did I prove myself?” she explained.
Hamish took a deep breath and crossed his arms. He was entering dangerous territory, but his gut said that he needed to be honest. If she continued down this path, she would only hurt herself and arm an attacker if she ever really did try to use the sword in defense. “You lack strength and stamina, and it is clear that you have never be
en properly trained, but”—he raised his hand to stop her from getting defensive—“I have to admit that I am also impressed. You have speed and instinct. And believe it or not, I support the idea of a woman mastering use of a weapon. A sword, however . . .” He pushed himself off the wall and walked toward the two more men who came into view, not finishing his thought.
Mairead listened as he gave them the same encouraging speech as he had given the others, telling them why they were there and that it would not take long. Hamish rejoined her and the two began to spar. Almost immediately she knew neither of them had spent any time being trained by anyone—let alone Ulrick.
“We can safely discount those two,” Hamish muttered, before halting them and instructing them to send the next pair.
Those trained by Ulrick definitely had certain habits the others lacked. They were subtle, techniques Hamish would have thought to look for if Mairead had not suggested it. Ulrick’s men liked to attack first and always at the leg, not anywhere high on the body. They seemed to parry effectively, but once an opponent knew their moves, it was easy to deflect as they knew only a handful of maneuvers. It was one of the reasons Mairead had been able to perform as well as she had. She could predict what they were going to do. And those who had not trained under Ulrick were so poor at fighting that Mairead would have beaten them if she had the strength and stamina.
For the next couple of hours, they watched the guard spar and Mairead was pleasantly surprised to find herself enjoying the afternoon. She had expected the tension between her and Hamish to be high after the kiss yesterday and at first she had been right. Both had felt uncomfortable and neither had been inclined to talk about what had happened or what it meant. Both still struggled with defining what it was that they wanted in the light of the obvious passion they shared. And until they could, neither had anything to say.
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