‘Come, all this running has made me hungry and I happen to know the oatcakes from the village are particularly good this day.’
Despite her father’s words, Mairi knew she was to blame and because of it, she would ignore her wants and urges to be free to choose another man to marry. She would honour her father’s wishes.
Chapter Nineteen
Duff closely watched Mairi for the rest of the day as she and her father, along with her suitors, cheered on the competitors for the remaining contests. He heard the grunts and encouraging shouts from the onlookers viewing the might of the men tossing the caber, the skill of the stone put and the determination given by those attempting to throw the weight over the bar. But other than a brief glance of the people and surrounds, Duff didn’t see any of it. His gaze was for Mairi alone.
She’d stumbled where the ground had been flat and even. Her father had been close enough to support her faltering steps and they’d exchanged a few words, but Duff could see no reason for her unsteadiness to begin with. She smiled and spoke, ate and drank along with everyone else, but still Duff worried. Was she ill, but tried to hide it like her father did? She was so good at pretending she didn’t care about anyone or anything that he wouldn’t be surprised if she kept being unwell to herself.
Concern pricked his chest but all he could do was watch and be prepared should she need him.
Should she need him! Other than someone’s unlikely attempt to attack her, there would never be a reason for Mairi to need him. She was surrounded by those who could offer her everything she wanted or desired. A loving father, three worthy suitors and a clan devoted to both her and the Gordon name. Duff had nothing to give, save himself.
He quashed the dreaded thought that had begun to pop into his head too often of late. He was who he was and naught could change that. One more day and he would return to the Borders to those who knew him and accepted him without judgement. Now all he needed to do was cease comparing himself to others and stop the ridiculous want for the woman he was to protect, but could never have.
Duff followed Alastair Gordon and his charge back over the drawbridge into the bailey. The contests were over, and aside from the footrace, the results were being tallied.
Castle folk and villagers poured through the opening ready to see what was happening within the protective walls. Their small group made their way straight to the practice grounds where many children were having their first lesson with a sword.
Several men-at-arms were partnered with a lad holding a wooden sword and were being offered advice and instructions. Duff recalled his first lesson with a sword. It had been a lesson in survival rather than guidance and the sword had belonged to the man who’d attacked him. Duff had killed him with his own weapon. He’d dropped the blade covered in blood and the next thing he remembered was stumbling upon Lachlan Elliot and fighting him with his fists.
‘Any lads with outstanding skills, Iain?’ Alastair asked.
With his own wooden sword in hand, Iain approached. ‘Laird. Lady Mairi.’ He looked at both, skimmed the rest, including Duff, then turned to face the practice yard. ‘Aye, there are a few that show a natural skill with a sword, but one more so than all the others.’
He gestured to the south wall of the tower. ‘Keddy is eleven summers and lives in the village with his mother, Paisley.’
Duff quickly studied the lad and his fair-haired mother who were standing at the corner of the tower, watching the others train.
‘Aye.’ Alastair said, nodding slowly in acknowledgement. ‘She lost her husband four winters past.’
‘Aye,’ Iain agreed. ‘He died of the ague.’
Iain seemed to know a lot about the young widow.
‘That winter was particularly harsh,’ the Gordon laird stated. ‘We lost a number of clansmen and villagers that year. How is she?’
‘Paisley is a strong woman, Laird.’
‘Aye, that she is, Iain,’ Alastair said with a smile. ‘I’d appreciate it if you could continue to instruct Keddy and ensure Paisley has all she needs.’
Duff couldn’t help wondering if Alastair was setting Iain up with Paisley, knowing his infatuation with Mairi would never be anything more.
‘Aye, Laird.’
Iain’s enthusiastic and immediate response confirmed Duff’s belief and his respect for the Gordon laird rose another notch.
Their small group moved on to the other side of the bailey where trestles and long benches had been set up outdoors for everyone to use. One table, closest to the tower entrance, had been reserved for the laird and his guests. They took their seats now and were instantly served wine or ale as per their preference.
Duff remained standing behind where Mairi now sat and gratefully accepted his cup of water from one of the observant maids. As he drank, he noted the position of the lowering sun, but as it was summer, it would be late before darkness fell. Despite the celebratory atmosphere filling the yard, guards still manned and walked the battlements. More people spilled into the bailey and drank from the water barrels before finding a place to settle for the remainder of the day’s events.
The men who had been in charge of overseeing each contest came forward and quietly shared the results for their individual event with Alastair and Douglas. The laird and his steward conversed privately before Douglas disappeared inside the armoury and Alastair resumed his seat beside his daughter.
Alastair leaned forward and spoke to Mairi and his guests, and despite not being able to hear what was said, Duff assumed he was enlightening them as to what would happen next.
Duff eyed those closest to the laird’s table and, seeing naught but people here to enjoy the day, turned his attention to the others further afield. Iain stood to one side of where the village woman, Paisley, sat with her son Keddy. He hoped this was Iain’s chance to find happiness and whatever else he was looking for with the young widow.
The stable lads across the way sat in the dirt, leaning against the stables, chatting and sharing oatcakes. Duff wondered if they had parents or if they were orphans like him.
A masculine voice cursed from above and hand to hilt, Duff stepped up behind Mairi and looked up to find Balfour slowly climbing down the tower steps. The tiny healer, Tavie, assisting him, even if he didn’t want her aid. Duff thought about offering to help, but by the pained look on the older man’s face, he was already receiving too much unwanted assistance.
Douglas returned and along with the healer, escorted Balfour to a padded chair previously positioned in the shade against the tower’s east wall, only a few feet away from the laird’s temporary table.
Duff turned back around just as the armourer approached Alastair Gordon, carrying a tray. He handed the laird the goods and then joined the tanner who stood outside of their respective outbuildings.
Alastair Gordon stood, and just as quickly as Lachlan Elliot could settle a mob in his Great Hall just by standing, so too could the Gordon laird quieten the throng crowded into his bailey.
‘Welcome one and all to the first Feast Day Castle Gordon has hosted in many a year.’ A rousing cheer filled the air. ‘Aye, it’s been far too long,’ Alastair added as the crowd quietened once more. ‘I bid a warm welcome to Gordon to our three special guests, Ranald Barclay, Ewan Strachan and Angus Hay.’ The Gordon folk roared their welcome.
‘And finally, the young lady who this day’s feast is to honour.’ Mairi accepted the hand her father offered her and stood. ‘My beautiful daughter, Mairi,’ Alastair raised their joined hands above their heads. ‘My heir. My pride. Clan Gordon’s future.’ The clan’s folk and villagers cheered wildly, smothering the sound of their laird’s sudden coughing fit. Alastair drew Mairi in close and held her briefly. To anyone looking on it appeared the laird was simply hugging his daughter. But standing slightly to one side, Duff was close enough to see the older man finally bring his coughing bout under control and witnessed the worry clouding Mairi’s beautiful face. He took a mental step back and clenched his fist ag
ainst the urge to hold her until the fear was gone from her expression.
Alastair released Mairi, cleared his throat and said, ‘Before we begin the next part of the Feast Day, we must acknowledge those who have taken part in the day’s contests.’ Alastair glanced into the mob of people. ‘My thanks and congratulations to all those who took part and tested their skills. And thanks to the skills of Gordon’s armourer and tanner, who have fashioned prizes for those who have won each event.’ Alastair again paused to allow the people to acknowledge the armourer and tanner with a cheer. ‘I will now announce each winner and Mairi, the one who cleverly came up with what the gift would be, will present them with their prize.’
Murmurs of anticipation rippled through the bailey. Duff hadn’t witnessed such shared joy and goodwill since Lachlan and Kenzie’s wedding, almost two years past. That special occasion had been the first time Duff had felt the first inkling of want in regards to marriage. He’d shoved the unfamiliar longing aside, believing he was simply reacting to Lachlan Elliot’s obvious happiness, a state his friend deserved more than any other.
But when he’d suffered the same longing when Lundy had wed Ailsa, he’d finally understood that he too wanted to find the woman of his heart and have a family of his own. But first he needed to discover who he was so he could gift her with his name. The reason he’d come to the Highlands. A necessity he’d recently learned would never come to be.
Duff swallowed the bitter taste of disappointment and concentrated on Alastair’s words.
‘The winner of the archery contest is,’ the laird paused before saying, ‘Ewan Strachan.’
Ewan stood from his place at the laird’s table to the people’s shouts and applause and walked around to the front of the trestle.
‘Congratulations, Ewan,’ Alastair said. Ewan gave his host a small bow and turned to Mairi.
‘Congratulations, Ewan.’ Mairi smiled and presented him with a small dirk, sheathed in a leather pouch.
A clever idea indeed. Without the pouch, Duff was sure Mairi wouldn’t be able to hold the blade, never mind present it to each winner.
Ewan accepted the gift, and after a few moments admiring the leatherwork, he slid the blade part way from the sheath.
Duff’s gaze shot to Mairi. She half turned her head and peered over her shoulder as if she were looking for him, but kept her gaze lowered. His heart twisted and although he wanted to take that step toward her, wanted to hold her and reassure her, he didn’t want her fear to be made obvious in front of the entire clan and more. Instead, with every fibre of his being, he stared at her pale cheek and willed the confidence he held in her to flow from him.
She stared down, utterly still. Then, with a deep breath he felt he’d drawn himself, she raised her chin and slowly faced forward. Ewan had just slid the blade back into its leather sheath, offered a bow and left to return to his seat. Duff witnessed the miniscule lowering of Mairi’s rigid shoulders and it was only then that he realised how fast his heart was beating.
For Mairi.
He gritted his teeth and willed his heart to slow as Alastair called the next winner and Mairi handed them their gift. The moment she did, Mairi smiled and looked into the crowd, in case the recipient decided to take a closer look at their gift as Ewan had done.
By the time all the winners of the contests had been awarded their prize, the sun had fallen lower in the sky, Duff’s heart had returned to a normal rate and Mairi had resumed her seat.
‘Now the official proceedings are over,’ Alastair announced to the throng. ‘Let the feast begin.’
***
Mairi washed down the last of her bread with her watered wine and, feeling full to bursting, she looked out over the cheerful crowd. Many had polished off their trenchers and were now lined up for a second helping of tender roast meat, tasty partridge pie and warm brown bread all swimming in a thick, rich sauce.
How she wished her father had eaten more.
She discreetly glanced beside her to where he sat conversing with Angus, sitting on his other side. He still held the same piece of torn bread he’d been pushing his food around on the trencher with since she’d first enquired about his appetite. She’d been halfway through her meal then.
‘I’m leaving room for dessert,’ he’d said.
It was almost time for dessert.
Several kitchen maids cleared their table of the main meal while others delivered platters filled with a variety of desserts, including apple filled pastries, figs, an assortment of cheeses and nuts.
Mairi offered her father a choice and was pleased when he chose a fig and immediately took a bite. She was likely worrying for naught.
He returned to his conversation with Angus and the thought freed her mind to explore what she’d been too afraid to think on since she’d presented Ewan with his dirk. She’d seen only a glimpse of the blade’s edge as Ewan had slowly slid it from the leather pouch, but an instant clamminess had washed over her skin from head to toe and a sense of light-headedness had quickly followed. All familiar feelings she’d suffered on seeing a blade before. It was the need to search out her personal guard that concerned her most. The need to see him rather than any other. The need she’d managed to quell before her gaze had found him, but a need that worried her still.
Her father had been standing directly beside her, yet she’d turned about and looked for, had hoped to find her protector. And she almost had. But she’d known he was there, always close. Never far away. Knowing and feeling his protective gaze upon her had given her exactly what she’d needed.
Reassurance. That was all. And as her personal guard it was only natural that she’d look for him when she was frightened and uncertain. He knew about her fear of blades, or at least knew that she didn’t like seeing them.
All reasonable explanations as to why she’d sought him out, which left her no possible reason to feel guilty for doing so. But she did. Because deep down in her soul she believed that she’d seek Duff out before any other even if he wasn’t her personal guard.
‘Half an eaten fig for your thoughts.’
Mairi gratefully shook off her troublesome thoughts and looked at her father. She couldn’t possibly tell him her thoughts were often consumed by the man he’d made her temporary guard, but she needed to tell him something. ‘I’m thinking that I have an important decision to make and I’m still not certain about who I will choose.’
She looked at her father and glimpsed the concern in his eyes. The line in the centre of his brow deepened. ‘Would it have been better if I’d made the choice for you?’ He asked softly.
‘Nae, Father.’ She placed her hand over the back of his. ‘Most daughters aren’t granted such a privilege. Allowing me to choose my own husband is greatly appreciated.’ She glanced down before looking him in the eye. ‘I just want to make sure I make the right choice.’
‘And I have faith in you that you will,’ he said with a smile. ‘But that is for tomorrow. Right now an old man would be honoured to dance with his beautiful daughter.’
Mairi returned his smile. ‘You’re not old.’ But as she looked into his blue eyes, she glimpsed a weariness she’d never noted before and it worried her. ‘I would love to dance with you,’ she said, pleased her concern didn’t show in her voice.
Her father patted her hand, clasped her fingers, and standing, brought her to her feet. He looked off to the side where the Gordon musicians sat waiting to play their part in the day’s events and nodded.
As he led her to the open ground before their table, Mairi couldn’t help thinking that the last time she’d danced with her father she’d been seven years old. He’d asked her to dance all those years ago, much as he’d asked her now. But eleven years ago her brother and mother had been alive and present and her mother who loved to dance had said, ‘It seems I now have a rival to dance with my laird.’ The forgotten memory almost brought Mairi to her knees.
She was the reason her mother and brother were no longer here and she’d prom
ised to do her duty for her father and her clan. The pipes and fiddles struck the first chords of a slow melody, her father clasped her other hand and peered down at her with a warm smile. Mairi looked up at him and silently swore not to fail him ever again.
After dancing with her father, Mairi danced with each of her suitors and asked them all the same question. ‘Is there nae special lady in your life?’
All three began their reply with the same response. Not until you. Mairi thanked them, but gently pushed them all for the truth. She needed to know.
‘There was a special lady,’ Ranald said as they danced to a slow tune. ‘But it was many years ago, and she was meant for another.’
Sadness for Ranald’s unrequited love welled in Mairi’s chest. She wanted to know who the lady was and who she was meant for, but the confession must have been hard enough to bear.
‘I was married once before,’ Angus Hay said, as he escorted her back to her seat. ‘Ah, she was a braw woman. And almost as good at fishing as me.’ He smiled, but not before Mairi glimpsed an underlying sadness. ‘Maisie died many years ago, but I still remember her fondly.’
Sorrow for Angus’ loss clenched at Mairi’s heart. Did he have any children from their union? She wanted to know the cause of Maisie’s death, but again, the memory of losing her must have been difficult enough without her asking more.
‘There has never been anyone special for me, Lady Mairi,’ Ewan said, as he returned her to her father’s side. ‘I was always too busy doing other things.’
A feeling of hopelessness washed through Mairi at Ewan’s explanation, spoken too quickly. Before she could ask what the other things were, he was gone.
Except for Ewan, her suitors had experienced affections for someone who had touched their hearts. Mairi wanted to experience the same.
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