“Highland hospitality,” Duncan all but spit out the words. “We should send them on their way. They take advantage.”
Of all the brothers, Duncan was the least diplomatic. If he had been named laird, times like these would have been quite entertaining. Then again, they would probably be at war with at least two clans by now.
“I wonder if he has any alliances on the Hebrides?” Darach said, ignoring Duncan’s outburst. “If he’s friends with, let’s say, the Uisdein, then we may have something to worry about.”
Stuart frowned. “I doubt that bastard would try anything against us after taking ye prisoner.” The Uisdein had imprisoned Darach when he’d gone to ask about a man named Cairn, who’d disappeared after attempting to start an uprising against the Ross’s.
“The Maclean and the Uisdein do have something in common,” Darach acknowledged, scratching his chin. “Both feel slighted by us.”
“We should reinforce the guards on our northern border just in case.” Duncan blew out a breath. “I will go with twenty men. Beatrice will be protected as Caelan will not allow anything to happen to her.”
For many years, Caelan and Duncan shared a huge house south of the keep. When Duncan married Beatrice, she along with her companion, Orla, came to live there as well.
“Very well. Go get rest and then depart in the morning.”—Darach hesitated—“Wait until after first meal. Let us see if the laird deems it time to disclose something.”
Chapter Three
A light across her face brought Cait out of deep slumber. She immediately sat up with a gasp. Why had she been allowed to sleep in so late? Or perhaps she’d not heard the knocks when morning call had come.
She dressed in haste and winced as she stood and began walking. Her feet remained sore from the long day before.
Upon entering the busy kitchen, she understood. She was ushered aside as women passed by heading to the great room with trays laden with food. Cait almost wept with gratefulness at seeing that Greer had sent for several women from the village to help with the kitchen work that morning.
“Once ye break yer fast, see about vegetables for last meal,” Greer instructed. The older woman bustled about the kitchen giving out instructions to those cooking and others filling platters and bowls.
How the woman found so much energy, Cait was not sure.
“What do ye wish for me to harvest?” Cait asked. “There is not much yet. The plantings are young.”
The woman stopped to consider. “Aye, ye are correct. We will make meat pies for last meal. Go to the village and see if ye can purchase something there. Anything will do.”
Cait had hoped to go see about her mother and brother that day, but since the visiting laird had extended his visit, it would probably not be possible.
Making a list in her mind of what was left at the house for them to eat, she realized there wasn’t much.
“May I take some bread to my mother and brother?” she asked doing her best to ignore the pang of embarrassment. “They may not have anything left to eat as I have not been able to bring food.”
Greer continued to watch as the two maids filled bowls, then lifted the trays and walked out. “Ye have time to go home and check on them. Just be sure to be quick about it. Take the sack there.” She pointed to the sack in the corner. “It has what was left of yesterday’s bread. And cut some of the sausage to take as well.”
The head cook turned away when a woman called to ask about whatever she was stirring over the heat, so she didn’t see Cait’s reddened face.
That she had to beg for food was not a good feeling; however, embarrassment was a small price to pay to ensure her family were fed.
With the sack of food for her family and coins to purchase what was needed for last meal, Cait walked out the kitchen door and past the garden, to find someone to take her to the village.
It would have been an impossible task with her sore feet to walk all the way to her home and back, and then to complete her daily duties. Thankfully, with the added task of going to the village, she could use one of the carts and do both.
Upon seeing a lad, she motioned him over. “I require a cart and a horse. Can ye find one, as well as someone to take me to my family’s cottage and the village?”
“I will take ye,” the young man replied with earnest. “My master requires me to fetch items from there today as well.”
“Can ye be gone for so long? I must stop to see my mother,” Cait asked, not wishing to get him in trouble with whoever his taskmaster was.
“I will ask Mister Stuart.” The young man raced away toward the side of the keep.
Curious as to what happened, Cait followed him around the side building. Men were setting up archery targets while others set up a short fence of sorts.
Standing with arms crossed watching the goings-on was the visiting laird’s son. Upon spotting her, he glared in her direction.
Cait took a step back.
At the site of Stuart Ross heading toward her with the lanky lad beside him, she blew out a breath. So much for avoiding the man.
Past him she noticed that the visiting laird’s son narrowed his eyes and watched them as they made their way toward her.
Stuart pulled out a purse of coin and dug into it. “Go by the tavern and get plenty of ale for last meal.” Stuart handed the coins to the lad who bobbed his head enthusiastically. “Nothing else. Not even an onion pie.”
“Cait, will ye please see that Anton does not linger past his task?” He gave Anton a pat on the shoulder. “Enjoy yer pie.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the young man’s cheeks coloring. Obviously, it was a joke between him and Stuart. “I will try my best.”
His gaze hesitated on her face and after a beat, he gave her a firm nod and walked away.
“Do I have something on my face?” Cait asked Anton who gave her a knowing look.
“Nay, I think he likes ye,” the lad replied. “We must make haste,” he added and hurried away to fetch the cart.
Cait looked over her shoulder and noted that Stuart was watching her walk away. Hurriedly she turned away.
Despite her silly heart skipping beats at seeing him and the persistent butterflies in her belly, it was not a good thing to catch the eye of a man of status. Men like Stuart Ross considered women in her position to be easy prey. To be taken and then discarded when someone else catches their eye. She’d not been there long enough to notice if the Ross men were the kind that took many lovers.
Although she’d heard rumblings among the maids about Gideon, the youngest. Most of the time, the whispers were accompanied by giggles and a great deal of fanning their faces.
Why was she spending so much time thinking about it? Cait shook her head and walked closer to the well to wait for Anton.
Across the courtyard, guards worked diligently to set up for whatever festivity was to happen. The familiar tall figure paced from a target to a specific spot and pointed to the ground. Cait sighed and then blew out an annoyed breath. The sooner she accepted that men like Stuart Ross would only marry someone of an elevated social status, the better.
Cait turned to walk away and ran into a maid carrying two buckets of water. “Watch where ye go!” the maid cried out. But it was too late. Cait had bumped into the woman and knocked one bucket to the ground, the water spilling onto the dirt.
“Oh no,” Cait said grabbing the now empty bucket. “I will refill it and bring it in.”
The maid huffed and hurried off with the remaining one.
It was so much faster to travel with a horse and cart. They arrived at her humble home soon after leaving the keep.
Her brother, Brice, was outside the cottage cleaning a rabbit. His wide grin made her heart squeeze with love. Despite the circumstance, he was always in a good mood.
She climbed down from the cart. “Ye snared a hare.”
“Yesterday I caught five fish. Ye missed a good meal,” Brice declared with a proud grin.
Cait s
tudied him for a moment. “I am so relieved to see that ye can provide for ye and Mother when I am away. But ye mustn’t be gone too long from here during the day and leave her alone.”
Brice nodded. “I make certain not to be.”
“Fishing?” She gave him a look. “And just how long did it take ye to catch five fish?”
“It didn’t matter. I went with him.” Her mother appeared at the doorway looking amazingly refreshed. “I have felt much better these last few days.”
Her mother studied her for a long moment. “I was horribly worried. But Brice reminded me that there are times ye are required to remain at the keep.”
“Aye, there are visitors. So, I must remain another night or two. Ye look well Mother.”
“I have been boiling the herbs that Greer sent and drinking the liquid every day as she instructed. It has helped so very much.”
Cait hugged her mother. “It makes me so very happy then.”
When Anton cleared his throat, Cait turned to give him a pleading look. But he shook his head.
“I must go. I wanted to bring by this bread and sausage that Greer sent. There is a visiting laird…”
Her mother interrupted, “Ye do not have to explain. When lairds visit, the work is tripled. Go dear. We are well.”
After one last hug, Cait climbed onto the wagon and they continued to the village about an hour away.
“Ye live far from the keep. Do ye walk every day?” Anton asked.
“I do,” Cait said. “It is a long walk. Sometimes I am fortunate to come across someone traveling to the keep. Most days by the time I arrive, I am tired before my chores begin.”
“Yer brother is old enough to be a squire. If both of ye work for the laird, ye can ask to live at the keep.”
Cait shook her head. “I do not wish for my brother to become a warrior or a guard. I cannot bear to lose him in battle.”
“What would ye have him do then?”
She could not think of a reply. “I suppose whatever it is he wishes to do.” After a moment she asked, “What do ye do for Mister Stuart?” Cait liked Anton. He seemed pleased with his lot in life and had a pleasing demeaner.
“Everything,” he said with a wide smile. “I am his squire. I do whatever he requires. He is going to train me with the bow and arrow.” Anton held his left arm out and bent it at the elbow, flexing his bicep. “Always wanted to learn sword fighting. When I told Mister Stuart, he said I could never be a warrior being so slender, he suggested I consider archery.”
“That is a good idea,” Cait replied.
“Two of the Ross brothers are archers, Mister Ewan and Mister Stuart,” Anton continued. “Both win every competition. I hate that I will miss most of it today.”
“I was wondering what they were setting up for. An archery competition then?”
Anton’s head bobbed. “Aye, to keep the visiting laird’s son occupied. That is what Mister Stuart said.”
“They may wait until later in the day to start,” Cait told him. “The visiting laird seems to linger after meals.”
At that Anton brightened. “We will hurry in town. Ye willna be long will ye?”
Cait shook her head. “Looking for vegetables for last meal. That is all.”
It was late morning when they reached the village, so there was only a smattering of sellers in the village square. Thankfully a cheerful couple was selling peas and onions.
To the couple’s delight, she purchased all they had of each. She then noted they also had collards.
“Can ye bring those to the keep? Greer will pay ye,” Cait said sure Greer would agree.
“For the laird, no need for payment,” the woman said with pride. “The first of the harvest.” She tied several bunches of the leafy greens and handed them to her. Cait thanked them and walked toward the tavern where Anton had gone.
The young man and another older one emerged lugging large clay pots covered with rough fabric that was tied to keep the ale from spilling. Cait eyed other jugs that had been fastened to the sides of the cart. “That is a great deal of ale.”
Out of breath, Anton loaded the last of the pots with the help of the older man. After they secured them to the wagon to ensure they didn’t topple over, Anton finally sat down on the bench and waved to the man who hurried back inside.
“He’s the owner Tom, Anton said. “He added two more since it is for the laird.”
On the way back to the keep, Cait had to hold on to the bench to keep from falling at how fast Anton urged the horse to go.
“I know ye are in a hurry, but please slow down a bit. It will not do us any good if the horse breaks a leg on this uneven road. Or if the pots break.”
With a sigh, Anton did as she asked.
“It is still early,” she reassured him hiding a smile when he frowned.
If Cait were honest, she was also anxious to see the competition. It would be the first time she’d ever seen one at a keep. There had been games held by the villagers where she used to live, but they were usually not well organized.
“Are servants allowed to be a part and see the competition?”
Anton nodded. “Most of the time aye. Depends on yer duties.”
“How long have ye squired for Mister Stuart?”
Anton grinned and frowned in concentration. “Two years soon.”
Upon riding through the gates, Anton continued forth until in front of the kitchen entrance. Soon lads were summoned to help unload the ale and Cait carried her purchases into the kitchen.
“Ye must have flown to the village to have returned so soon,” Greer said chuckling. “What happened? Were ye chased?”
After placing the basket down on the table, Cait smoothed her hair and blew out a breath. “Nay, Anton was in a hurry to return because of the competition. He did not wish to miss any of it.”
“Ye poor dear. That boy has little sense,” Greer said scowling. “He follows after Mister Stuart like a little pup.”
“I must admit to being a bit scared I’d be bounced right out of the wagon,” Cait added good-naturedly.
Greer peered into the basket and gave her an approving look. “Onion and lamb pies will be most delicious for last meal. The peas will be a good addition for tomorrow’s meal.
Her eyes widened when a lad entered with the bundles of collards. “Where did ye find these?”
Cait explained about the couple and Greer nodded with approval. “They are good people.”
The cook looked around the room. “First meal is over, there is time for a wee rest. Everyone is outside watching. Ye can sit outside the side entrance and watch if ye wish.”
“Oh, thank ye.” Cait hurried out of the kitchen and down the corridor past the servant’s rooms to a side door that opened to a space where servants often went to rest. Cora waved her over to where she and Finella had commandeered a bench.
The west side of the courtyard had been transformed. A shelter had been set up under where seating was available for those who came to watch. Bright banners flapped in the breeze from the ropes that kept the tent in place.
At one end of the large grassy area were four large mounds that the archers often used for practice. The targets were propped on the top of the mounds and about twenty paces in front of them was a short wooden fence-like structure. This marked the boundary the archers would stand behind.
There was clapping as four men approached the short fence and stood with feet apart, bows held at the ready.
Artair Ross stood on the sideline and yelled out commands.
“Nock!”
“Mark!”
“Draw!”
“Loose!”
The commands were repeated three times. Meanwhile, those seated cheered, clapped, and exclaimed as the arrows hit the targets.
She had not lived there long enough to know the four men, so was glad when Finella told her the competitor’s names.
There was a hush as someone went to inspect the targets. Apparently, it was a Maclean who’d s
hot best by the polite applause.
The next group was familiar. Ewan, Stuart, Gideon, and the visiting laird’s son, Liam.
“Look at all the swooning,” Finella muttered.
Following Finella’s line of sight, Cait saw that it was true. A group of women waved handkerchiefs in the air calling out names. “Stuart! Gideon!”
“Where did the women come from?” Cait asked narrowing her eyes to see them clearer. “They are not from the keep.”
“The neighboring areas. I believe an announcement was sent to let families know about the competition. Several archers came to be part of it,” Finella said. “Each time Misters Stuart and Gideon are about, women gather.”
Once again, Artair called out the commands. This time there were louder exclamations since the women were overly interested.
Liam Maclean made a show as he paced the distance from the fence looking where all the women were. He lifted a hand to acknowledge them, and the silly creatures whispered to each other between giggles.
“I do not care for Liam Maclean,” Cora said. “Although attractive, he has the most atrocious ways.”
“I agree,” Finella added. “He made one of the kitchen maids cry this morning.”
Cait didn’t add what he’d said to her.
They withdrew the arrows from the targets, and it was time for another set of archers to compete. It seemed this time it was the best of those who’d already competed. It included Ewan, Stuart, Liam, and another Maclean archer.
Stuart stepped up to the short fence first.
Cait concentrated on watching him. His broad back flexed under the fabric of his tunic as he stretched out the bow.
When he released the arrow, there was a quiet hush.
“No one alive can beat him,” Finella whispered. “Stuart Ross is the best archer in the land.”
The crowd cheered when his arrow hit the target. Cait could not see how accurate his shot was, but she gathered by the applause it was good.
The Eagle Page 3