Highland Devotion (The Band of Cousins Book 7)
Page 3
Sela paused and Linet noticed a strange expression cross her face. Wistfulness possibly? “Aye, Connor Grant is a silent, handsome one, no denying it.” She stared over Linet’s head so much that Linet turned around expecting to see something, but there was nothing there.
“I’m quite certain he feels he has plenty of good cause to hurt me after what happened in Inverness. Enough talking.”
Linet could swear she saw her eyes mist before she spun on her heel to talk with the guards who had been sent to escort them to Edinburgh.
“We move in five minutes.”
***
After an arduous workout in the lists the next morn, Gregor moved back up toward the keep, Connor next to him, both gasping from exertion.
Connor wiped the sweat from his brow, then said, “Gregor, you’ve improved. Now, if I could improve that quickly with a bow, I might put more effort into it.”
“Have you ever practiced with a bow?” he asked, pausing every few words for more air.
Connor chuckled. “Only a time or two at the Ramsay festivals. ’Twas quite pathetic. I gave up.”
“I didn’t know a Grant would give up,” Gregor chided him. “Mayhap you should practice when you’re with me. You could use skills at another weapon.”
“I have three. Should be enough.” Connor opened the door to the keep and stepped inside, holding the door for him.
“Three? Your sword and your dagger. What’s your third?”
Connor smirked, “My fists. I like to wrestle with Loki or MacAdam.”
Gregor headed straight for the kitchens. “Once we break our fast, I’m heading to the Bairds to talk with them about Linet. I’d like to leave for Edinburgh before the sun is highest.”
“I’ll be ready an hour before that. Just want to jump in the loch before we go.”
Two wee voices called out to them from the trestle tables. “Uncle Gregor, Uncle Connor!”
Lily’s wee twins launched toward them at full speed, at least for their three-year-old legs. Lise jumped on Gregor and then Liliana launched herself at Connor’s waist.
“Ew,” Liliana said, wrinkling her nose at Connor. “I smell somepink.”
Gregor’s guffaws cut off abruptly as Lise quirked her lips into a strange arrangement and said, “I smell somepink, too.”
Gregor said, “See that? Uncle Connor needs a bath in the loch, does he not?”
Lise shook her head vehemently.
“Nay, he does not?” Gregor asked. “But you said you smelled something.”
Lise scowled then pointed at Gregor’s chest. Her sister did the same.
“Me? Uncle Gregor smells?”
The twins nodded in unison.
He chortled at their blunt honesty. How he loved his wee nieces. “Guess I’ll be joining you in the loch, Connor.” He lifted Lise into the air with a whoop and kissed her check. “Whether you want it or not, you’re getting a smelly kiss before we head to the loch.” Lowering her, he did the same with her sister.
The lassies’ faces lit up in unison. “May we come along, too, Uncle Gregor?” Lise whispered, as if she knew it wasn’t allowed.
Her mother, Lily, strode toward them from the trestle tables. “Nay, you may not. Lads swim in the loch alone, lassies. You’ve finished your breakfast, now come visit with Grandmama.”
Lise’s face fell, but Connor reached down and mussed her hair. “’Tis way too cold for you two in the loch. Go see your grandmama.”
Both lassies pushed away from their captors, their wee legs churning. Their voices echoed in the great hall, calling out, “Grandmama! Grandmama!” as they ran off toward Lily.
How much livelier things had become inside the Ramsay keep thanks to two wee lassies, and Torrian’s two bairns as well, though Lily’s daughters had the run of the place most of the time, making everyone smile. The thought made him wonder why Linet was not happy in Clan Ramsay. She’d always seemed to enjoy her time with Lily and the bairns, hadn’t she? And he’d never met a lass who enjoyed reading more.
Did she have books wherever they’d taken her?
It struck him that the very spot where he was standing was the place where Linet had hugged him once.
Linet had grown up close by, so he’d seen her from time to time since they were wee bairns, but the first time he remembered noticing her—really noticing her—was the day he’d broken his arm after he and Gavin pulled a particularly foolish prank. His mother had listened to the tale of their misdeeds from Uncle Logan, who’d earned the title of the Beast of the Highlands with his raging that day, then escorted Gregor into her healing chamber. His arm had never hurt worse, but he hadn’t dared say so.
They’d nearly reached the chamber when Linet came into the keep, presumably to assist with the wee ones of the clan. His mother studied her for a moment, then said, “Linet, would you mind assisting me in the healing chamber? I must straighten Gregor’s arm and immobilize it for him. I could use some help.”
Linet nodded at once, her eyes brightening for a moment, then took one look at him and blushed. He gathered she was excited to be assisting the mistress of her clan but embarrassed by the prospect of being close to him.
Gregor had watched many of the clan’s lasses assist his mother, but none of the others possessed the patience and abilities of Linet Baird. His mother would start to ask for something, and Linet would complete the task before she’d heard the full request. She worked diligently and silently, her touch soft but skilled as if she’d been a healer for years.
Just before his mother finished the painful process of fixing his limb, Lily stuck her head inside the room and announced, “Mama, Gavin isn’t allowed near Gregor for a moon. ’Tis his punishment.”
“Hmmm…” his mother said once Lily left. “What shall I do with you? Your arm will make it impossible for you to help with the construction of the new huts, and you’ll be no good to your brother in the lists.” She thought for a moment and then glanced at Linet. Her hands settled on her hips and she asked, “Linet, haven’t you been taking reading lessons with Lily?”
Linet’s face lit with excitement. “Aye, we’ve only just started, but I love reading. I’m so hoping someday I’ll be good enough to read a book on my own. I aim to teach my sister.”
“You may tell your mother that I have some tasks for you at the keep for the next few weeks, and once those are done, Gregor will spend at least two hours a day teaching you how to read.”
This had been Gregor’s assignment or punishment, as Gavin had called it once they were allowed to speak again.
It had been far from a punishment for Gregor. Linet’s hard-working spirit, her determination, and the sweet sound of her giggles whenever she struggled to make sense of a particular passage—all of it had made an impression on him. So much so that he’d crafted her a special gift as their time together had come to a close—a thin strip of wool with a whittled handle at the top.
After wrapping the package carefully and adding a book to it, he’d given it to her on the last day of their lessons.
“What is this you are giving me?” she whispered, folding her hands in front of her after she fussed with the few silky dark strands that had fallen forward. “I deserve naught. I should be giving you a gift for all your assistance and your patience.”
“Nay, ’tis my appreciation for such an apt pupil. You did a fine job, and now you only need to practice to improve your new skill. Go ahead, open it.”
She fumbled with the twine and the fabric covering. Her eyes misted as she carefully touched the book, her hand caressing the top cover with reverence. Then her gaze had fallen upon his creation. “’Tis most lovely, Gregor, but I’m not sure what ’tis exactly.” She held it up, studying the finely rubbed wood.
“’Tis something to place between the pages of your book so you’ll always know where you last ended.” He reached over to demonstrate, taking the volume in his hand and showing her how to use it.
Linet Baird had set the volume down and hugged
him. Her soft curves had melted against him and something had happened to him at the tender age of six and ten. He’d noticed a lass, and he hadn’t yet forgotten her.
If only he hadn’t been too cautious to approach her back then. To share his feelings with her. If only it weren’t too late…
He rubbed his chin, appreciating this memory for what it was. Motivation to find Linet and not give up.
He had to find her.
Gregor followed the twins to greet his sister, but she shook her head adamantly. “Nay, please don’t. Not until after the loch. Wee lassies don’t lie, Gregor. You both smell.”
He couldn’t stop himself from kissing Lily’s cheek—and laughing at how her nose scrunched up from the odor. “Go now…”
“We need something to eat, then we’ll leave.”
She waved her hand in front of her nose and said, “Come, wee lassies. We’ll hide in Grandmama’s favorite chamber.”
The thought made him smile. His mother loved being a grandmamma. It struck him that his mother had spent a fair bit of time with Linet as well, and Linet had always seemed to admire her. She’d learned what she knew of healing from his mother.
Castle Ramsay was a happy place, was it not? What had driven Linet away?
Chapter Four
An hour later, Gregor, freshly washed from the loch, headed toward the Bairds’ hut. He knocked and was quickly invited inside.
Wallace Baird stood to greet him, and Gregor nodded to both him and his wife.
“What brings the laird’s brother here?” Wallace asked, a fine tremor in his voice. He cast an accusatory glance at his wife.
“Just a few questions. May I?” Gregor asked, pointing to a stool by the fire. The small flame would help him dry off a bit quicker.
“Aye. Finnola, find the man an ale.” As if accustomed to being ordered about, she quickly hustled over to do his bidding.
Gregor accepted the beverage with a tip of his head, then said, “I have news of Linet, but I also have a few questions.”
“I’ll be heading to my smithy place in a few moments,” Wallace said, as if to hurry him along. It mattered not—Gregor wasn’t of a mind to be rushed.
Linet’s mother timidly asked, “We heard Merewen and Gavin Ramsay are wed. ’Tis true?”
“Aye, they married in Inverness. I hope that pleases you both. They should be here within a day or two.” He decided it best not to mention the pain Merewen was in from her time in Inverness, the very reason they hadn’t arrived on Ramsay land yet.
“It pleases me verra much that she married our laird’s nephew. He’s a fine man, as are you,” Wallace said, wiping the sweat on his brow with a linen square. Neither he nor his wife had settled since Gregor stepped through the door. Both continued to stand awkwardly, and Wallace would occasionally pace back and forth a few steps.
“My thanks to you,” Gregor said. “You’ve always worked verra hard and Clan Ramsay appreciates it. I have other questions for you. Please sit,” he said to them.
“Of course,” Wallace said. He settled onto a stool and nodded for his wife to do the same. “I’m mighty proud of Merewen, but we’ve heard little else other than that Linet will not be coming with her. We were saddened she was not found.”
Gregor said, “Actually, Linet was found. None of us spoke with her, only Merewen.”
Wallace bolted back off his stool. “What? But the guards said naught. Mal and Struan asked them. Mal has been out searching on his own. He left for three days before he returned.”
“We did not tell the guards. This is a personal matter, and we didn’t think it appropriate for word to get around. Linet is hale and working as a healer for a woman in Inverness.”
Finnola’s hand went straight to her chest, and Wallace had to grab her to keep her from slipping off the stool. “She’s coming home? Och, many thanks to my Lord above. Oh, I must go to chapel, tell Father Rab…”
“Nay,” Gregor said, waving his hand at the woman. “She doesn’t wish to come back. Merewen offered to get her out of whatever she was involved in, but Linet refused, saying she was happy there. She uses her healing skills, and she teaches the other lasses how to read.”
“Books! I knew that lass would be trouble. Lasses should not be taught how to read, nor use weapons, nor…” Wallace Baird jumped out of his chair, nearly tripping over his own feet. “I’ve told her over and over again that she was not allowed to learn how to read. Linet and her books. Merewen and her bow.”
A memory surfaced of Linet smiling down at a book, her eyes full of excitement and accomplishment. Her sire had wished to take that away from her. Anger burning in his gut, Gregor got to his feet. “I’ve heard enough. Your lass has one of the brightest minds I’ve ever known. And I’ll also inform you that Merewen is an accomplished archer. She took four men out in a skirmish not far from our land. We’d have lost guards for certes had she not practiced the skills she did. I am grateful she could shoot.”
“I told her she was not allowed…” Wallace’s face had turned the darkest red of an autumn apple.
“Baird, I’m starting to see the problem. But before I explain, allow me to remind you that Merewen is now married. My cousin Gavin is verra happy with her skills, and I suspect they’ll be practicing together often. ’Tis no longer your concern.”
Fortunately, the man knew enough to close his mouth, but he let out his frustration by pacing frantically around the small hut.
“Merewen really helped? Are you sure?” her mother asked. Some emotion played in her eyes, but he could not be sure what it meant. He hoped it indicated the lasses’ mother had more of an attachment to them than their sire did.
“Aye, I saw her shoot with my own eyes, and you should be proud of your daughter. I am, but that is not why I’m here. As brother to the chieftain, I’m here to ask you why you think your daughter Linet is not willing to return to Clan Ramsay. I’m concerned about her.”
Finnola’s gaze dropped to her hands, now folded in her lap.
“What exactly are you suggesting, Gregor Ramsay?” Wallace stood in front of him, his hands now on his large hips. He was a large man, although no longer as fit as he had been in his prime. Still, Gregor had no interest in sparring with the man.
“I’m asking you if something happened to her recently that might have caused this change in her. Was she attacked? Did she have a suitor who mishandled her? Did she have frequent nightmares? Is there something your laird should know?”
Wallace spun on his heel and walked away. “Naught. Naught has happened to make the lass feel that way. She worked hard as any of our children do, but no harder…”
His wife coughed.
“What is this?” Wallace snarled. “You deny what I say, wife?”
She fiddled with the folds in her faded wool gown, then said, “Merewen is tougher than Linet. My Linet is more tender-hearted. Physical work was hard for her, and she would put all her effort into everything. Instead of just washing the clothes in the burn, she would beat them until her knuckles were bleeding. There was no reason for her to work that hard. But I didn’t think she hated it so much that…” Her hand went to her mouth and Gregor could see she was about to cry.
There was no reason for him to pursue this issue any longer. He had his answer—they knew nothing. If something had happened to Linet, she would have been far more likely to confide in Merewen than in her parents, and she had not.
He stood and said, “I just wondered. When Merewen arrives with her husband, she can tell you more about what Linet said. Of course, you understand Merewen will be living in the keep with her husband, but I’m sure they’ll come to visit as soon as they are able.”
Gregor nodded to both of them as Wallace moved over to wrap his arm around his wife’s shoulders.
It was just as he suspected.
He’d have to unroot the truth himself.
***
Linet stared up at the top of the covering fashioned over the tree branches to protect her and Sela
from the elements, though they hadn’t had any rain at night yet. The other three lasses were in a similar structure under a nearby tree. They were getting closer to Edinburgh.
The journey had taken longer than she’d expected, probably because she’d never been on one this long before. She swiped at the dampness around her eyelids, chastising herself for being so tenderhearted.
But, oh, how she missed Winnie. Although life had always been demanding, they’d found ways to make each other happy. Linet had watched Winnie practice with her bow and arrow, marveling at her sister’s ability to always hit her target exactly in the center, and Winnie had encouraged Linet’s visits to Father Rab, who would allow her to read whatever he had in his library. They’d needed to keep their interests to themselves, of course. Their sire had snapped Merewen’s bow in two, much like he’d ripped the pages of Linet’s favorite book out and spread them across the floor. Thank goodness, the cherished gift Gregor had crafted for her had not been inside that book. She kept it well hidden to ensure its safety.
His gift had brought her through many troubling times. Whenever it felt her life was out of control, she would hold it and think of him. His patience. His finger on the parchment as he pointed to letters and phrases. His warm brown eyes, which had the power to turn her mind to mush.
Perhaps she should have let him know how she felt. There had been a time or two when she’d felt certain he was about to declare himself to her, but they’d slipped away.
She’d always hoped he would come to visit with her again, but he’d rarely been home over the past year.
She’d never told Merewen how she felt, knowing her sister, forever a dreamer, wouldn’t have let the matter rest. It was one of two secrets she’d kept from Winnie. Her feelings for Gregor? Too sweet and silly a dream to share. The other secret? Too much of a nightmare.
Now, she’d gone off with Sela, leaving her dreams and nightmares behind. She was starting to feel she’d made a mistake, although she wasn’t sure what else she could have done. Go back to her home at Clan Ramsay? Never.