Duff did as he was bid and finally turned to take in the Gordon laird’s private chamber. A feeling of comfort and warmth filled the air, the faint scent of herbs underlying the more potent smell of freshly cut wood and candle wax. Thick, woollen rugs covered most of the wooden floor, tapestries depicting hunting and battle scenes decorated the walls.
An enormous raised bed with a massive timber bedhead occupied a third of the spacious chamber, two long and narrow windows left uncovered to the summer’s night sat like sentinels high on each side. The remaining space hosted a small round table surrounded by two wide, oak and red velvet chairs positioned before the yawning, unlit hearth. A large table hugged the opposite wall and closed off access to a tiny alcove boasting a shelf full of rolled parchments, a fat ancient candle cradled by its cast-iron holder and a slim tapestry that Duff couldn’t see from where he currently stood by the entrance.
‘Come and sit, ‘Alastair said, gesturing toward the chairs. ‘I’ll fetch us a drink and will join you.’
Again Duff did as requested, but it didn’t mean he felt comfortable. He’d shared many a drink with Lachlan Elliot, but never within the laird’s chamber. He walked over to the chairs, but didn’t sit. He’d wait until his host sat first.
Alastair was busy over near the table and looked to be rifling through a tall wooden chest hidden beneath. An expressive sigh alerted Duff that the older man had found what he’d been searching for. He carried his find over and set two pewter goblets and a brown, earthen jug down on the small table. With a smile worthy of a happy man, Alastair took his seat and waved Duff into his. ‘Sit, sit.’
Duff moved the dagger at his waist toward his hip and sat.
‘Now, I know you’ve tasted little of the wine and ale on offer since you’ve been at Gordon,’ Alastair said. ‘And I well understand your caution, due to protecting Mairi and all, but I can’t have you leaving the Highlands without trying the finest drop you’ll ever taste, here or in the Lowlands, or anywhere besides.’
Alastair’s enthusiasm for whatever had been stored in the jug was evident, his smile contagious.
‘I am honoured that you would share such a precious drop with me.’
Alastair poured a measure into each goblet and handed one to Duff. Lifting his own he held it aloft and said, ‘To the unexpected.’
Duff took a sip of the potent yet smooth amber liquid that warmed him from the inside out, but he couldn’t help wondering what Alastair meant. ‘You seem like a man who is too well organised to know what the unexpected is.’
Sadness swept across the Gordon laird’s face and Duff wished he’d left the matter alone. Alastair’s expression slowly cleared as if he was returning from a faraway place a long time ago.
‘Even the best laid plans can be thwarted.’ His haunted gaze met Duff’s. ‘You also seem like a man who plans in advance. Did you plan to stay with us here at Gordon?’
Only now he thought on it, as watchful and as careful as he was, Duff realised there were many things he hadn’t planned and more that he had no control over.
He hadn’t planned on getting involved with the Gordons, he hadn’t even known who they were. He’d simply calculated the odds between the rebels and the travelling party and had decided to make them more even. He hadn’t planned on rescuing Mairi, he’d acted. And he certainly hadn’t planned to be her protector while three Highlanders courted her, he’d taken on the role to help her father out.
‘Nae,’ he finally said.
‘Are you sorry you did?’
‘Nae.’ This time Duff answered without delay, as there was no need to think about his reply. He wasn’t sorry. He’d met a man he admired greatly, experienced a Highland feast and games, had been fed and given a room of his own in exchange for his sword skills he hadn’t had to use, and found the woman he’d promised to protect was also the woman he wanted for his own.
‘If only circumstances were different.’
If only. Alastair Gordon’s quietly spoken words broke into Duff’s thoughts. Did the man know he wanted to be more than her protector? He looked at him expecting to see the laird staring at him through narrowed eyes, but found him peering into his goblet instead.
Relief spilled through Duff’s veins. Alastair had once asked him to name the three most important things in his life and he’d named his horse, his sword and his honour. It was the last that had kept him from shaming himself by making his feelings for Mairi known when he wasn’t worthy of her. But it hadn’t been easy. Still wasn’t.
He’d taken enough time away from his duty. He drained his cup and stood. ‘It has been an honour to meet you, Alastair Gordon, and an honour to guard your daughter. I—’
‘Honour …’ Alastair said cutting him off. ‘Is at times … overvalued.’
Duff stilled, shocked by the older man’s opinion.
Alastair looked up at him. ‘I see I have surprised you.’ Duff didn’t bother confirming something the laird had already determined. ‘But let me ask you this.’
Duff was already on guard, ready to defend the one thing he believed made him the man he was despite not knowing his origins. His honour was the only thing he had that no one could take away from him without his consent.
‘Imagine the people you love are in danger. Imagine you are all that stands between saving them and losing them.’
Duff’s hands fisted at the sound of pain in Alastair’s voice, at the thought of anyone he cared for being in danger.
‘Now, imagine bargaining for their lives by giving up your own.’
It wasn’t difficult to imagine doing such a thing. He’d put himself in harm’s way many a time to protect another and could have lost his life in many instances, but hadn’t. Most of those he defended were more worthy than he.
‘Now tell those you are more than willing to die for that you love them …’ Alastair’s voice cracked, broke. He looked down at his fisted hand resting on his knee. ‘And tell your little lass not … to cry.’
Duff could imagine a young Mairi, chest heaving, wearing a fearful expression, looking at her father and doing her best to do as her father said.
‘Then, believing you have done all you can, you keep your word and hand over your sword …’ Alastair stared down at his clenched fist and slowly shook his head as if he saw something else entirely. ‘And instead watch the woman you love and your ten-year-old son cut down by the bastards.’
Alastair slammed his goblet onto the table and stood. ‘I was willing to die for my honour. Instead I lost my wife and my beloved son. All while my seven-year-old daughter looked on.’
He turned away from Duff, took two steps and spun back around. ‘Since that blackest of days, I have learned two things. To expect the unexpected, and that at times one’s honour is the only thing that needs to be sacrificed.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Mairi had truly believed that escaping into her room would make it easier for her to contemplate her suitors and come to a decision. She’d been wrong. She’d sat by the unlit fireplace and attempted to concentrate on the small stitches needed to finish the burgundy gown she’d been making. The knock at her door sent relief surging through her. Someone had come and saved her from her confusing emotions.
She’d sensed her father had left words unspoken. Had he returned to say them now? At this moment she’d welcome any kind of distraction to save her from her jumbled thoughts.
She had to stop herself from running to the door and pulling it inward. Her maid, Rhona, stood on the other side, steam rising from the bowl she held, folded linens under one arm.
‘I thought you might like to freshen up before you find your bed, My Lady.’
Mairi’s heart squeezed at her maid’s ongoing kindness, despite the distance she’d imposed between them. It was better this way. Safer. Easier. And would hurt less if anything bad ever happened to either of them.
‘I would like that very much.’ She smiled and stepped to one side. ‘Please, come in.’
Rhon
a placed the bowl and the cloths on the small round table against the far wall and turned about, wringing her hands. ‘Can I assist you in any way, Lady Mairi?’
Mairi hated that she made the younger woman nervous. She’d never been cruel or unkind, just distant. ‘Thank you, but I can manage on my own.’ She’d ensured she could and always had.
‘Then may I please wish you all the best for your future marriage?’
‘Dear Rhona, I thank you for your constant assistance and for your good wishes.’
The sound of her name caused the maid to blink and a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘Please let me know if you need my help with anything at any time, My Lady.’
‘I will,’ Mairi said, returning her smile.
As she ushered her maid out the door, Mairi couldn’t help but look across to the place where her personal guard usually stood, waiting. He wasn’t there.
‘Rhona,’ she called, surprising herself and her maid, who turned away from the stairs and walked back to where Mairi still stood in her doorway. ‘There is one thing.’
‘Anything, My Lady.’ The eagerness to please in the young maid’s eyes was encouragement enough for Mairi to voice her query.
‘I just wanted to ask how things are between yourself and Hamish.’ Mairi closely watched Rhona and witnessed the blush stain the young woman’s pale cheeks. ‘Forgive me if my question is too personal.’
‘There is naught to forgive, My Lady,’ Rhona quickly assured her. ‘‘Tis just, well,’ her gaze momentarily found Mairi’s before ducking away. ‘Things are very good between Hamish and me, My Lady, and I thank you for asking.’ That one brief glimpse into the young maid’s eyes showed the happiness and the excitement Rhona was feeling. ‘We hope to wed before year’s end, with the laird’s permission, of course.’
Mairi smiled. ‘I see nae reason for my father to deny your request, Rhona.’
‘My thanks, My Lady.’ Rhona dipped in a curtsey.
‘You love Hamish, don’t you?’
‘Aye,’ Rhona’s blush brightened to match the flames in the wall sconces. ‘I do.’
‘I hope he loves you in return.’
‘He says he does, My Lady, and I believe him.’ Rhona looked around as if to ensure what she said next wasn’t overheard by anyone else. ‘He says when he sees me, it feels like there be birds flying about in his belly and when I speak to him, he gets warm all over. All the same things I feel, and I know I love him.’
Mairi placed her hands across her middle and stared into the shadows where Duff usually stood. Just because she’d suffered the same feelings Rhona and Hamish experienced didn’t mean she was in love with Duff. How could she love him when she’d only known him for a week? Not that it mattered. Not that it would change anything if she did. He was leaving. They’d said their farewells. But if she ever had the chance to spend time with him again, she’d ask him everything she wanted to know about him and she’d stare at him for as long as she wanted.
‘Lady Mairi?’
Mairi blinked and looked at her maid’s concerned expression. ‘Thank you, Rhona.’ She forced a smile. ‘Again, I wish you and Hamish well. Goodnight.’
She turned into her room and shoved her disappointment at never having the chance to know him better aside. But her curiosity ducked in to take its place. Where was Duff? Had he retired for the night? They’d had a busy day and he’d seen her to her room. He couldn’t be expected to stand outside her door for the whole night.
But a part of her wished that he would.
Ridiculous! She had to stop such futile wishes and concentrate on what was real.
Closing the door, she set about using the water to wash while it was warm. She removed the gown and shift she’d worn to the feast and ran the wet cloth over every inch of her bared skin.
Her breath caught in her throat, trapped behind a sob that rose up from deep inside her. Maybe her father was right. Maybe she couldn’t do this alone. She dropped the cloth into the water and pressed her hands against the sides of her face. She couldn’t tell him, couldn’t ask him for his help. There was no one she could ask. No one she could talk to.
How she wished her mother was here.
The thought raked across her heart like a thousand blades. Tears welled in her eyes, not from the pain in her chest but because not once since the day she’d watched her mother slain had she allowed herself to miss her so much.
She wanted her mother to hold her in her arms and assure her all would be well. She wanted her mother to stroke her hair or touch the tip of her finger to the tip of Mairi’s nose. She wanted her mother to smile her beautiful smile, as she had when Mairi was a little girl.
Her vision blurred, just as her memories did, and she brushed the unshed moisture from her eyes. Marching to the bed, she donned the nightgown she’d laid out earlier and paced the length of her chamber, the room seeming to shrink with every footstep she took. But with every footfall it wasn’t the image of one of her suitors that filled her head, it was Duff’s image that grew stronger in her mind.
She saw his dark eyes in every stone making up her chamber walls, his face in every shadow the candlelight did not reach. Imagined his strong hands touching her, his powerful arms holding her, his mouth upon hers. She pressed her fingers to her lips, wishing.
Mairi suddenly pulled at the fabric of the high-necked nightgown, needing to cool her body, searching for air. Her gaze darted to the hearth, only to find there was no fire dancing in its belly. The heat swamping her came from within. She was too hot, melting from inside out.
She couldn’t remain here, she needed air, room to think and clear her head. She strode to the hook on the wall and gathered her cloak. With a glance over her shoulder at the door, she turned in the opposite direction and, tossing the cloak about her shoulders, she entered the small alcove at the rear of her room. Using the secret passages, she could savour the fresh air she needed to ease her mind and no one would know.
So great was her need to escape, her hands trembled as she struck flint to light the candle. She paused to draw a calming breath and held it as she attempted to light the candle once again. The wick flamed to life and Mairi quickly turned her head to one side as the breath she held rushed out in relief. She then scooped up the lighted taper and peered into the shadows up ahead.
With fresh air and a sense of freedom within her reach, she grasped the fabric of her cloak and nightgown and, hitching them higher, ascended the stairs. The shushing sound of her slippers sliding onto each stone step echoed in her ears. Cold air, trapped in the stonework and stirred to life by her movements, pressed against her exposed face and hands like a chilled glove. Hints of dust motes momentarily lived in the meagre light thrown by the flickering flame.
Mairi hadn’t taken the secret passage stairway upward in over five years. The last time she did, she’d almost been discovered leaving the tower through the hidden doorway by one of the guards patrolling the battlements. Gordon’s secret passages had only remained secret due to little use and Mairi loathed the thought of being the one to reveal they existed. Night’s full darkness had settled outside and would aid in her quest to not expose them now.
She continued the climb upward and drew level with a small landing that led into the hidden alcove in the laird’s chamber. Did her father ever need to escape the confines of his room, as she now did? Did he ever make use of these hidden stairs? If so, what was it that drove him outside?
Deep inside Mairi knew who would consume her father’s thoughts. The one person who had prevented Alastair Gordon from remarrying. Mairi’s mother, her father’s wife, his love. The woman he’d loved and lost. The woman he’d wed and still loved to this day. The woman he’d seen slain.
Mairi’s heart constricted around the hurtful memories that time had managed to kindly blur. Thoughts of how lonely her father must be crept in. He’d chosen to live the rest of his life alone when he could have remarried. His love was too great to take another to wife. Admiration for her father
’s love and commitment to her mother unfurled.
Had they been in love before they wed? Or had they grown to love each other after they’d married? She’d been too young to even think about marriage before her mother’s death and it was a question she hadn’t dared to ask her father afterward. Now she wished she had.
Did any of her three suitors feel even an inkling of love for her? Would any of them choose to live the rest of their lives alone if they lost her? She had no clue, but she did know that the kind of love her mother and father had was the kind of love she wanted to share with her husband.
The urge to enter her father’s chamber and ask him his opinion on all the questions bouncing about in her head was strong. She took one small step toward the alcove, but pride and her determination to prove she could make this one important decision on her own stopped her from taking another. She turned away and resumed scaling the stairs. The need to feel the night’s fresh air on her face and draw it in made her quicken her steps.
Mairi reached the top and placed the candle on the shelf close to where the secret door led to outside. Another unlit taper and flint sat gathering dust, waiting to aid the next person who needed its guiding light. She left hers burning and lifted the solid stone wedge also occupying the shelf.
Shifting closer to where she knew the hidden door was, she counted three stone blocks across and away from the shelf and reminded herself that once the door was closed it could not be opened from the outside. Thus the purpose of the wedge. If the door fully closed once she was outside, the only way back inside the castle was across the battlements that were constantly manned by guards and down the stairways of one of the four corner towers. Nigh impossible to do without being seen.
With the wedge held firmly in her hand, she pushed against the third stone and continued to push it until it stopped sinking inward. Reaching into the rectangular hole, she found the iron lever set inside the wall and forced it downward in an arcing motion. Something deep within the wall shifted and moved and a panel of the wall, two stones wide, suddenly sank away from where she stood.
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