The Thistle and the Rose
Page 8
“I’ve been known to rise to the occasion before, Lady Caithness,” Colin replied, holding in his laughter. The other men were chuckling, less successful in their restraint.
“Now that I think of it, sleeping might be a preferable position than the one I've gotten myself into here.” Celia glowered at the tall half circle of men before her.
“I'm an open-minded host,” Lord Hugh said with comic gravity, “but I will not have you two sleeping together on my dinner table.”
Celia couldn't believe her ears. These men were too much.
Colin stood watching Lord Hugh lead her to dinner. As his father placed her in a seat between them, Colin thought that he might actually enjoy Lady Caithness's visit at Kildalton. Never in his many travels to Europe's great courts had he been so charmed as he'd been already this evening. Lady Caithness seemed so natural, so impulsive, so different from other court ladies he'd known.
Even though the gadabout Lady Caithness was far from what he wanted in a wife, this woman was definitely attractive and witty enough for a short term relationship. In fact, he might even look forward to being her spring fancy. Aye, just a short-term thing, he thought to himself. Short term.
Celia was really going to enjoy this short visit at Kildalton Castle.
The moon was just rising over the water outside her window, and the soft rays illuminated Celia's room with a shade of blue. Celia sat snugly in her great bed, her knees hugged to her chest, listening to the sounds of the sea. Occasionally, as she sat dreamily recalling the events of the evening, muffled sounds of the after-dinner revelry would reach her ears.
A Weavers' Guild had come into the castle to perform a play for Lord Hugh's household and his guests—some religious play in keeping with the season. Celia had wanted to stay, but she couldn't trust herself in that room any longer.
Dinner had been wonderful. Colin's attentions to her even better.
He had been a true courtier, anticipating her needs, serving her at table, keeping up a witty conversation that often seemed to have double meanings. He was definitely flirting with her, and Celia had enjoyed every minute of it. To her own dismay, she had even found herself returning it at times.
Something was very different here at Kildalton Castle. If some man had spoken to her at the queen's table the way Colin had at dinner, Celia was sure she would have dumped a goblet of ale on him and left the room. She'd always been very sensitive about the way men treated her in public. But she felt different about this situation, somehow.
It had been more than just flirting. Colin's attentions to her had awakened feelings that she'd never known even existed. For the first time in her life, she felt herself desired as a woman, a complete woman.
Celia had even enjoyed watching Colin's humorous act of possessiveness. She smiled, thinking of how Alec Macpherson and Lord Hugh had tried to get into their conversation.
Lord Hugh had been seated in his customary chair, the only one in the hall. She and Alec had been seated on the benches on either side of him, and Colin had sat down beside her.
Celia had been polite, speaking with Lord Hugh and Alec when the conversation warranted it. But at one point Colin stood up and asked if they could exchange places for a moment while he spoke with his father. She did not hesitate to comply, believing the seriousness of his tone.
Celia had been shocked when, after she had moved, Colin sat down in her place and turned his huge back to his father and Alec, effectively shutting them out of any contact with her for the remainder of the meal. Her last view of them was Lord Hugh's astonished face disappearing behind Colin's shoulder.
But there had been serious talk as well, talk that had interested Celia.
When Colin had spoken of the village and his dreams of modernization, he had spoken to her as a real person, and she had glimpsed another side of him that Celia hadn't anticipated. And he'd seemed surprised by the questions she'd asked and the genuine interest that she'd shown.
Celia had traveled all over Europe with her father and even gone to the Far East as a child. She'd seen a world that was rapidly changing, and those changes fascinated her.
There were many facets of this man's personality, and so far Celia liked every one of them.
In fact, there was enchantment in some of their moments together.
She half closed her eyes, thinking of the moment when she'd held her goblet up to be filled. Colin had taken the pitcher himself and placed his huge hand over hers as he'd filled the cup. Celia shivered as she recalled the heat that had coursed through her body at that moment. It might have been her imagination, but she had felt his fingers caress the back of her hand.
Perhaps she had imagined the lingering touch of a knee, the caress of an elbow, but each time it occurred, Celia's breathing had shortened and her pulse quickened.
But it didn't matter if it was her imagination or not. Sitting alone in her dark, empty bed, Celia listened for the sounds of the hall and was very aware now of the chill in her room. She was opening doors that she was not ready to step through. That's why she had to excuse herself. That's why she had to return to her room.
That's why she had to get away from Colin Campbell.
Chapter 6
We've spent two days around this old farmhouse, and Danvers has nearly filled the huge pit that we dug in the field. The troops are now making excursions into the countryside, and the people they lead back are dragged into the farmhouse and tortured. The word is that he is asking them all the same question. It's a woman. A lady we are searching for.
And then we throw dirt on what's left of their bodies.
Sweat glistened on Colin's bare skin as the first rays of the sun came over the castle's outer curtain wall.
Again and again he hammered the straw-covered post with the great two-handed Highland sword. Spinning and slashing, backing and charging, parrying and thrusting, the warrior pushed his fatiguing body through the painful training that made him so fearsome an opponent. His muscular frame ran with sweat until he completed a regimen that would kill an ordinary man. In fact, it had. Many.
Only two of his ten handpicked fighters remained outside in the training area, inspecting the new German swords that had just been received from France. The other eight, among them Runt's older brother, Emmet, had been exhausted by the fierce workout their master had put them through. But they were now en route to the castle's great kitchen to harass the cooks for their breakfasts. Each would now spend a greater part of the day training his own troops, and with similar intensity. This discipline made the Campbell fighters the most feared and respected of all Highland soldiers.
Alec appeared, yawning and stretching in the brisk morning air. Eyeing his friend as Colin picked up the towel that lay near a neat line of weapons, the Macpherson heir sauntered to the arms and picked out a short, vicious-looking sword that had two shorter, parallel blades commencing at the hilt.
“Were you making all that racket out here for the past quarter hour or so?” Alec asked nonchalantly.
“Quarter hour!” Colin exploded. “Try two, you lazy, shiftless, poor excuse for a fighter.”
“Two hours!” Alec continued with mock surprise. “Imagine that! Then I guess this is...”
Dropping the sword at Colin's feet as he spoke the last words, Alec leapt onto his friend's back as Colin reached down for the weapon. The two giants rolled away in dust, with Alec gripping the slightly larger Colin around the chest, pinning the massive arms to his sides.
As they rolled, Colin was able to get to one knee, and with a mighty heave of his muscular arms broke Alec's viselike grip, reached over his shoulder, and threw his friend into the dust in front of him.
Before Alec could even react, Colin was on him like a cat, sitting on his chest.
“You cheated,” Alec gasped. “I wasn't warmed up.”
“You've been using that excuse for more than twenty years, Macpherson.” Colin grinned.
Colin stood and offered Alec a hand up.
“I
thought you were going to train with us this morning,” Colin asked. “God knows, you need it.”
The two men watching nearby had been listening to this kind of exchange for as long as they'd served under Lord Campbell, and knew that, after Colin, Alec Macpherson was probably the strongest warrior in the Highlands.
“I was going to come down and play with you gorillas,” Alec responded, “but I'm on holiday.”
“When are you not on holiday, you wee fragile marmoset?” Colin growled.
“I wonder if this sour disposition might have something to do with being dismissed by a certain Lady Caithness last night.”
“Dismissed? I've never been dismissed by any woman,” Colin replied, becoming genuinely irritated now. “The woman has a bairn to look after.”
“Bairn?” Alec laughed, moving a safe distance away. “Everyone saw that you weren't able to hold this woman's attention through dinner.”
“Hmmph,” Colin scowled, not wanting to let Alec know just how much he really had been disappointed at the sudden retreat of Lady Caithness. Last night he'd caught her looking at him. She was attracted to him, no question about it. It was in her eyes, her manner. But then, unaccountably, she had run.
“Well, because of your rudeness at dinner last night, I had ample opportunity to talk to Edmund about his niece.” Alec smiled, realizing he now had Colin's full attention.
“I wonder,” he continued, “if she'd be interested in teaching me to sail today. Spring has really come early this year. You wouldn't mind if we used one of your small boats, would you?”
“If there were a chance of just you drowning yourself, I wouldn't mind at all,” Colin answered. “But it is the lady's safety I'm concerned about. What would this woman know about sailing?”
“As Edmund tells it, she was sailing before she was walking.”
“This is sounding better and better. She'll really be impressed when you throw up on her.”
“As a matter of fact, Lord Campbell, sailor extraordinaire, her uncle says she even has a remedy for seasickness that she learned in the Far East.”
“Far East? Hmm, this woman has a considerable range of experiences,” Colin mused, thinking back over the very intelligent questions she'd asked over dinner about the village and his plans. “What else did you find out about her?”
“I'll tell you what,” Alec responded. “Tonight at dinner I'll sit next to Lady Caithness. That way you and Edmund can talk about her all night.”
“I do not think so. But thank you for volunteering.”
“Well, then, how about volunteering one of your boats for the day?”
“Alec,” Colin responded, pausing a moment, giving the request the grave consideration it deserved. “Only because you're my oldest friend, my clan's ally, and my guest, I have to say...no!”
There is no way in hell, Colin thought, that I'm going to let these two out on a boat without me. Whether she would go or not was hardly the question. After all, Alec has good looks and a charming way with women, and she apparently has her own reputation in that area. If anyone's going sailing with her, it is going to be me.
A few minutes later the two warriors entered the South Hall still arguing over the loan of the boat.
At the table Lord Hugh and Agnes were engaged in their own argument—over the appropriateness of hunting during the period before Easter. This was an annual discussion, and one that Agnes always lost, but not without making her position clearly known.
“I'm telling you, Hugh Campbell, it's wasteful to hunt meat during the one short period of the year when you cannot eat it.”
“Agnes, every year you tell me this, and every year you preserve the meat.”
“We have enough meat to feed the entire Western Isles for a year,” Agnes responded stubbornly.
“Then, I'm telling you, woman, we're going for the sport, for the exercise. Not that I need it, but the horses do. We're not going to slaughter every red deer and partridge on the island, you know.”
Agnes was unconvinced. Every year when the winter weather broke on the coast, Lord Hugh would plan his infamous hunt. Every year the dogs would get more meat than they were worth. There were skins taken and meat smoked, but there was no need for it. Period.
“Besides,” Hugh continued with a sparkle in his eyes, “Lady Caithness is sure to join in, given the amount of hunting that the king liked to do at court. This would be a great opportunity for her to get to know our island. To get to know our family a wee bit better.”
Agnes's objection vanished immediately, for at that exact moment Colin came up from behind and put his arms around her. Aye, this year hunting might produce something valuable, after all. Colin and Celia certainly looked enchanted with each other last night. Perhaps an opportunity to spend a full day together would move things along even quicker.
“Agnes,” Colin put in, smiling down at her. “Fighting that same battle again this year?”
“Not at all, dear!” Agnes replied. “I think hunting is a wonderful idea this year. The weather is most agreeable, and the ground has dried out remarkably in the past week. Why, we're discussing how soon you can all go.”
Hugh's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he listened.
“When would be a good day for you, Colin? We need to go soon, while everyone is being so agreeable,” Hugh said, recovering quickly.
“I still have a few things to do,” Colin said. “How about next week.”
“That's settled, then,” Hugh stated emphatically, rubbing his hands briskly together. “Then Alec, you and I have a lot of work to do. We're just finishing up getting two new Welsh falcons ready out in the mews. They came in with the shipment from France a few weeks back, and they look like beautiful birds.”
“Wonderful,” Alec said happily. “I believe I enjoy watching those birds move better than the kill itself. I'd be happy to help out for the next few days...especially since I will not be doing any sailing.” As he said the last words, Alec sent a wry look Colin's way.
Alec was well known for his abilities with falcons. Hugh knew that a tercel trained by Alec was often better than the finest Welsh falcon. Besides, Hugh thought, smiling at his own cleverness, it would be good to keep Alec busy.
“Good. And I'll tell Edmund and Lady Caithness when they get back from the village,” the laird said.
“Village?” Colin said, surprised. “What are they doing in the village?”
“Sir Edmund has been going there every morning since they arrived,” Agnes replied. “But I've no idea why he goes.”
“I do,” Lord Hugh added. “He's waiting for a priest who was traveling with them. He needed to go up to the abbey near Argyll's castle for some reason. Edmund says that when he returns, which should be any day now, they'll be on their way.”
“Nay! We have to convince them to stay until Easter,” Agnes said with dismay. “There's no reason for them to be on the road during Lent.”
We need more time, Agnes thought.
We do need to keep them here, Lord Hugh thought. We need more time.
What's her hurry? Colin thought. Why should she be pressed for time?
“Aye, two more weeks here would certainly be good for her bairn,” Agnes continued. “And going through the Highlands, they'll still be facing some bad weather.”
Even though Colin was quite irritated at the thought of Lady Caithness running off, he couldn't help but smile at Agnes's contradictory use of the spring weather in her arguments.
“Well,” Lord Hugh said. “We should be able to convince her to stay till Easter...for the bairn's sake, anyway.”
“Colin,” Agnes said sweetly, turning the discussion, but only slightly. “Have you seen her son yet? He is the most handsome little tiger. He was out with her this morning, in fact, poking at your dog's eyes and pulling his ears. I've never seen Bear so docile and patient. They say dogs are very good judges of character.”
Colin and the rest burst out laughing at Agnes's innocent expression. To be any more s
ubtle in her matchmaking, she'd need to hit him over the head with a stick. And this was so different from Agnes, who in the past had found reasons to disapprove of any potential match for him.
“Did Lady Caithness take this marvelous bairn with her to the village?” Colin asked, smiling.
“Nay,” Agnes replied. “Ellen has the child in their rooms.”
“I believe that Edmund was going to show her the village,” his father added. “Something you said last night caught her interest.”
“Oh, Colin,” Agnes said. “You should be showing her your projects.”
“Definitely,” Alec added with a smirk. “In fact, if you get going right now, Agnes will pack your breakfast.”
“Alec Macpherson!” Agnes scolded. “I'm sure I do not know what you're talking about.”
As the words were leaving her mouth, Agnes had Colin by the arm, turned him toward the door, and shoved him on his way.
Colin smiled at the roar of laughter that followed him out of the hall.
Agnes did, indeed, have oat bannock cakes, smoked salmon, and a jug of ale ready for him when he left the castle.
By the time Colin and his dog completed the short walk to the village, the sun was well up in the sky, and the good weather had brought the inhabitants out into the open air. Winters were wet, windswept, and bitterly cold in the Isles, and when the opportunity presented itself, his people came out of their stone houses en masse.
As he walked down the slope of the stone paved main street, Colin thought with pride that there were only a handful of towns outside of Edinburgh that had even the main street paved. Colin, in laying out the new plan for the town two years earlier, had insisted that even the narrow side streets be paved and sloped to accommodate waste and water drainage. As a result, the village would be even cleaner than the capital. That is, if Edinburgh ever rises out of the charred timber and ash that the English left.
Colin wondered if she'd noticed.