Duff clenched his hands as she accepted the offering from the young maids, who again bobbed a swift curtsey.
‘My thanks, Greer and Jean. How are the preparations for tomorrow’s feast going?’
‘All’s well, Lady Mairi,’ Greer said.
‘Good. Be sure you both take a well-deserved rest later today.’
‘Aye, My Lady,’ the maids replied.
Mairi turned and as she headed toward him, she lifted one of the sacks and one of the skins she carried. ‘To break your fast.’
Duff accepted the victuals and stepped to one side to allow Mairi to leave the kitchens. He then fell into step behind her as she once again weaved her way through the sleeping horde and out of the tower.
She stopped on the tower steps and scanned the bailey. A hint of night still hovered outside, the sun yet to fully rise and greet the new day.
Mairi turned from her inspection. ‘I’d like an early morning ride.’
Her need to escape the confines of the castle proved his observations to be true. ‘I’ll prepare our mounts.’
Her slender shoulders relaxed at his words and Duff had to remind himself he’d offered to do a menial task and nothing special. But her relief made him feel like he’d done so much more.
They crossed the bailey and just as he was about to enter the stables, she reached for his provisions. ‘I’ll hold these while you see to the horses.’
Duff handed them over and with a nod went to fetch their mounts.
He entered at the west end and was immediately greeted by a whinny from Duncan, who was housed at the stable’s other end, and a sleepy-eyed stable lad named Glendon. The lad was more than eager to show him where Mairi’s horse was kept and where her saddle was stored.
‘Want me to prepare My Lady’s mount, sir?’
‘My thanks, Glendon, but I’ll manage.’ Not wanting to dampen the lad’s spirits, he said, ‘But once I’m done, I’d appreciate it if you could lead her horse outside and wait until I prepare my own.’
‘Oh, aye, sir,’ Glendon said and straightened with sudden importance.
He tightened the final strap and handed the reins to the waiting lad, who turned and led the horse out through the west entrance.
Duff turned to walk to where Duncan’s stall was located near the east entrance, and in the dim light found Mairi’s gaze fixed on him. He could feel the weight of her stare but in the poor light he couldn’t discern her expression.
‘Lady Mairi?’
She shifted at the sound of her name. ‘I will wait for you outside.’
Duff felt the loss of her gaze the moment she spun around and retraced her steps to the east opening, where she must have entered. He followed her along the stables aisle to where Duncan stood patiently waiting in the last enclosure. He greeted his mount with a long stroke down his neck as Mairi continued outside. Dawn’s light filtered in through the opening and Duff quickly saddled his horse.
After leading Duncan outside, Duff secured their sacks to their saddles and assisted Mairi onto hers. Duff sensed her need to escape the castles inner grounds as he lifted her onto her horse and she immediately reached for the reins. A trace of her restlessness seeped from her into his palms, and with a nod to the lad and an order from Mairi for the guards to open the gates, Duff was relieved to be riding across the drawbridge.
Duff took the lead, scanning the dawn-lit landscape as they rode over the moat. The sun took its first peek over the horizon and aside from the long grasses bending slightly in the summer breeze, nothing moved. Once they rode off the drawbridge, Duff turned to his charge.
‘Where would you like to ride?’
‘East to the line of trees.’
Duff nodded and kept pace with her galloping mount as they rode over the gentle rolling hills and the shallow valleys leading to the line of birch trees that were currently set aglow by the early morning sun.
When they neared the row of birch, they stopped and Mairi stared beyond the tree line, transfixed by something only she could see.
Duff’s pulse raced at this view of her, this image. This would be how he remembered her, from tomorrow and every day that followed, once he had gone. She wore an expression of such longing on her beautiful face. Duff wanted her to look at him just so, could easily imagine her doing that, the soft breeze playing with the loose strands of her golden hair and ruffling the edges of her pale blue gown. Her chest rising and falling, drawing rapid breaths. She looked lost, yet regal. Untouchable, yet close. Strong, yet vulnerable. Capable, yet she needed a personal guard.
She needed him. For a short while he was her protector. An honour. A privilege. A role he’d happily continue, only he wanted more.
What he wanted was out of his reach. Mairi was to make her choice two days from now and Duff wasn’t listed as one of the favoured three she was to choose her husband from. But he had this moment, this memory, and it was his alone.
***
Mairi turned from the direction of her secret glade, knowing she would not visit today, and glanced at the mounted man beside her. He was watching her, likely trying to assess her thoughts from her expression. A talent he seemed to excel at when it came to her. He was also likely wondering why she’d chosen to take a ride alone with him when he must realise she’d been doing her best to avoid him and ignore him.
But today was her ‘free day’, a day to spend however she liked. And while she couldn’t go to her secret glade, for then it would no longer be her secret, she’d decided to spend at least part of it doing what she truly wanted to do. Though he wasn’t one of her suitors, she wanted to spend time with Duff.
Two days from now he’d be gone and she’d be preparing to marry. But that wasn’t today.
‘Now to the north side of the loch.’
Mairi didn’t wait for a response. She turned her horse about and settled in for the return gallop over hills and around Loch Gordon, knowing Duff would keep pace beside her. She revelled in the early morning wind stealing beneath the neck of her gown and robbing strands from the leather tie holding her hair. She felt free.
They rode along the east side of the loch and headed around the north until they reached the narrowest point of the burn that filled the larger body of water. Mairi drew rein and turned to Duff. ‘This looks a good place to break our fast.’
Duff nodded, dismounted and then assisted Mairi, releasing her the moment she touched the ground. He then removed their sacks from the saddles while Mairi wandered to the edge of the running burn and sat on the thick, green grass.
Instead of using the time to think over what she’d learned about each of her suitors, she used the moments to watch Duff simply move. He wasted not an ounce of energy on unnecessary movements. Every shift his powerful body made was for a reason, every move testing the fabric of his linen shirt and leather vest. His large hands worked with an efficiency any seamstress would envy, any man would covet. Her gaze wandered over the leather sheath housing the sword at his back.
He turned around and, carrying their water skins and their sacks, offered her hers.
‘Sit and tell me who taught you to fight?’
Mairi drank water from her skin and took a bite of her loaf, while Duff found a place nearby to sit.
‘Many have taught me to fight. I’ve learned from the Elliot clansmen I practice my sword skills with every day. The men I’ve fought, whether they be reivers, neighbouring clansmen or the English, have also taught me certain things.’ He looked at her. ‘But mostly I’ve learned from my own experiences and mistakes and then put them to good use.’
She chewed slowly, unable to imagine Duff making mistakes. Having him sitting before her, hale and hearty, told her he’d learned well.
‘Have you enjoyed your time in the Highlands?’
He stoppered the skin and glanced at her before retrieving his loaf. ‘Aye. The mountains are magnificent, as are the castles and fortresses.’
‘And the people?’ She wanted to know what he thought of her cl
ansmen, of her.
He toyed with the bread in his hand. ‘The people have been more than kind, but none more so than the Gordon’s.’
‘You have been away for nigh on a year. Is there nae one special awaiting your return?’ Mairi’s heartbeat doubled as she waited for an answer.
He finally looked at her with a look of frustration in his eyes. ‘Nae.’ He tore a chunk from his loaf and stared across the burn.
Was there someone he wished was awaiting his return?
‘You are good with children.’ Her memory had conjured Glendon’s smiling face when Duff had made him feel important in the stable, despite not needing his help.
‘I was a lad once.’ A small smile lifted one corner of his mouth and when he looked at her, the glint of frustration had gone from his eyes.
‘You will make a good father.’ Mairi stiffened as the thought escaped her mouth as spoken words. Duff stared at her, his gaze searching her face as if he’d never laid eyes on her before.
‘And you, Lady Mairi, will make one of your suitors a man to be envied.’
Mairi’s heartbeat quickened and her gaze dropped to his mouth. How she wanted to feel his lips upon hers. How she wished to be held in his powerful arms.
But he was her protector, not one of her suitors, and Mairi had a duty to her father and her clan to fulfil. They finished their bread in silence and Mairi’s annoyance grew with every bite. She was suddenly tired of her duty. Weary of thinking about which man would most benefit Clan Gordon. She gazed across the loch at Castle Gordon. Never before had she found her duty to be a trial. It was time to go home.
She’d spent time with Duff, but now she needed to spend the rest of her free day thinking over what she’d learned about each her suitors. It would be best not to spend any more time alone with Duff. Not when she sensed his wants and wishes matched her own.
Mairi stood and shook the crumbs from her skirts. ‘I wish to return to the castle.’
‘Aye, My Lady.’ Duff took her sack and skin and strapped them to their saddles and waited by her horse to assist her. He lifted her into her saddle and swiftly gained his own.
Mairi couldn’t help wondering if he, too, sensed the danger of being alone together.
Chapter Seventeen
On their return, they witnessed the clansmen setting up for tomorrow’s games on the green outside Castle Gordon’s curtain wall. After seeing their mounts to the stables, Duff escorted Mairi inside the tower, where she headed straight to where the laird sat at his table alone.
‘I would like a private word with my father.’
Duff had sensed her change of mood moments after he’d told her that her future husband would be an envied man. He’d only said what was in his heart, but from her reaction he’d obviously overstepped his protector bounds.
‘She’s safe here with me, Duff,’ Alastair reassured him.
With a bow he left them and marched across the hall toward the exit. He’d head outside and wait on the outer steps until she left her father’s side. He inhaled deeply as he neared the outer door and the breath was coated with the unmistakable flavour of potent herbs. His steps slowed as he looked into the healing room and his mind instantly conjured up the image of the wounded man he’d helped the Gordon laird to carry.
Duff peered into the small, square-shaped chamber. The sound of muffled snores drew his attention to the pallet directly opposite the entrance. A healing sleep he’d heard Iona, the Elliot’s ancient healer, describe many a wounded man’s peaceful slumber. Did the Gordon’s healer call it the same? He looked to his left where the tiny woman named Tavie had her back to him and was currently bent over her only other patient. The man Duff realised he was suddenly keen to see.
‘Don’t stand there gawking, lad, come in and sit,’ Tavie commanded, without looking away from her task.
Duff couldn’t help wondering how she’d known he was there when he knew he hadn’t made a sound.
The man lying prone on the pallet turned his head and looked at Duff. ‘Ye’d best do what the witch says.’ A painful grunt swiftly followed the injured man’s suggestion.
‘And ye’d best hold yer tongue, else I’ll stitch it to yer ear,’ Tavie said in response.
Balfour rolled his eyes. ‘Have a seat, Duff. The lass will be done with me soon and ye can be my witness if I don’t survive her tender care.’ A second grunt sounded.
Duff walked across to the back of the room and after eyeing the vials and herbs strewn across the scarred timber table against the rear wall, he turned and stood between a pair of stools.
A sense of familiar comfort assailed him. He’d had his share of injuries over the years, from grazes to minor cuts, but nothing ever serious. Iona had always patched him up and sent him on his way. It seemed they had been given a gift, along with the sharpest tongues, for both healing women took no insolence from anyone.
‘Ye’ll live, thanks to me,’ Tavie said, straightening from her task. ‘And thank the old ones ye will soon be gone from my sight.’
She turned from Balfour, as if she truly was glad she’d soon see the last of him, and stopped. Duff felt her inspection rake over him like the talons of an eagle.
‘Ye look well enough to me.’ Duff didn’t have time to fully absorb what could be taken as a compliment before Tavie continued. ‘What do ye want?’
‘I’ve come to see Lady Mairi’s personal guard.’
Tavie made a scoffing sound. ‘Nae one’s seen more of him than me and trust me, there’s little to look upon.’
‘With you and God as my witness, Duff, the next time I’m wounded I’ll take my chances with ill humours and poisoning of the blood rather than with this barbed twig who claims to know her herbals.’
Duff could no longer restrain his smile.
‘Barbed twig, eh.’ Tavie muttered under her breath. ‘I should have packed his belly with nettles before I sewed it up.’ She stormed from the room.
Balfour’s soft laughter filled the chamber. ‘I warn ye, lad, if the woman ever says a kind word about ye, run, for she’s up to nae good.’
Duff grinned. ‘I appreciate the warning.’
‘Grab a stool and come tell me how things go beyond these confining walls.’
He carried a stool over and positioned it beside the older man’s pallet. Easing half of his weight onto the seat, Duff said, ‘How is your wound?’
‘My wound is fine, thanks to Tavie’s unmatched healing skills.’ Balfour looked toward the door and in a lowered voice said, ‘Don’t ever tell her I said so.’ He chuckled and sighed. ‘But the sitting and lying about doing naught is grating, especially with all that’s happening.’
Duff could well understand the wretched feeling. He didn’t like being idle and couldn’t imagine doing nothing for days on end.
‘How’s my lass doing?’ Brows raised, Duff looked at Balfour. ‘Don’t look surprised, lad. I don’t have a daughter of my own and I’ve been protecting Lady Mairi for the last eleven years. I can’t help but see her as mine.’
Was that why Duff kept thinking Mairi was his, or should be? After less than a week?
‘Are her suitors doing a good job of impressing her?’
‘Nae.’ The word slipped free without thought.
Balfour chuckled. ‘Just as I expected. How is Lady Mairi?’
‘Lady Mairi has done herself and her father proud over the last four days, and again today,’ Duff said.
‘That’s well and good, lad, but how is she?’
Duff searched the injured man’s face and read genuine concern in his expression.
‘She’s …’ Beautiful. Afraid of blades and I don’t know why. She doesn’t like me rescuing her when her horse bolts. She is skilled with a bow but wants no one to know. ‘Lady Mairi is determined, confused and caring, but pretends not to be.’
Duff met Balfour’s gaze, wondering if he’d said too much, been too honest regarding Mairi.
Balfour slowly nodded, holding Duff’s stare as fiercely in ret
urn. ‘The lass has got to ye quickly, lad.’ Duff thought about denying the older man’s claims. ‘She up and snatched my heart when only a lass of seven years old.’ A smile of wonder lifted the older man’s lips as he looked away and slowly shook his head. ‘And she’s held it ever since.’ Duff buried any words of denial. ‘And I agree with the laird,’ Balfour said, once again giving Duff a direct look. ‘With me stuck here, yer the best man to protect Lady Mairi.’
***
Mairi left her father and climbed the stairs to her room. Once inside, she poured water into a bowl and quickly washed the smell of horse from her skin. Using quick strokes, she dried herself and donned a fresh linen shift and a pale green gown with long trailing sleeves. Next she dragged her comb through her hair and with fast fingers secured the golden mass in one thick plait, tossed it over her shoulder and strode for the door. Wrenching the timber panel inward, she marched through the opening and stopped.
The man she’d been once again trying to avoid stood on the opposite side of the landing, wearing his family plaid, his neatly fitting leather vest and a heated look in his dark eyes that sent her heart into a frenzy.
‘The noon meal is being served, Lady Mairi.’
His smooth, velvety voice wrapped about her like a warm cloak and grounded her. The words she often heard daily from many different people washed through her and diluted the confusion stealing her feigned calm.
‘I did not know where you were when I left my father,’ she said, as if she owed him an explanation.
‘I was visiting Balfour.’
She stopped before him. ‘How is he?’
He looked at her and she quickly erased the concern for Balfour from her expression.
‘He is healing well.’ Mairi fought not to show her relief. ‘He misses you.’ Invisible fingers squeezed her heart. She peered down the stairwell and then looked back at the corded muscles in his neck.
‘He likely misses his duty.’ She turned and descended the stairs. Her current protector was far too astute and she was starting to believe he was trying to reveal parts of her with his measured words. Parts of her she allowed no one to see.
The Protector Page 17