“Would ye like me to take a tray to yer wife?” she asked.
“Nay,” he said. “I shall see to that meself.” Remembering how his wife had rewarded him for the fine meal he had prepared the night before, he could only imagine more gratitude once he fed her yet another decent meal.
Alec had left Adhaira alone whilst he went to chop wood. Once he had a good amount for the kitchen, he kept going so that he would have enough for the gathering room and their bedchamber.
When he was finished, he was soaked with sweat and covered with bits of splintered wood. Drawing water up from the well, he washed as best he could with the frigid water.
Plunging his face into the bucket, he swiped his hands across his face. Shaking out his wet hair, tiny droplets flew hither and yon. As his hands dried, he looked out at the empty yard. ’Twas then he saw Patrice stepping through the second gate. She looked worried as she rushed toward him.
“I came as soon as I could!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “How be Leona?”
He chuckled slightly as he shook water from his hands once again. “She be fine,” he told her. “Although I dare say she is no’ likin’ bein’ cooped up in our room all the day long.”
Patrice let out an anxious breath. “I only learned just this morn,” she told him. “I have been at me mum’s for a few days. Tell me, is the scar as horrific as rumors have it?”
Rumors flew as fast as eagles in these parts. “Nay, ’tis no’ at all bad. Just a few stitches along the top of her forehead.”
“Och!” Patrice exclaimed as she placed a hand on her heart. “I hear it took five men to hold her down whilst ye mended her.”
“She did no’ even flinch. No one was forced to hold her down.”
“I knew it!” she cried. “I swear ye can no’ trust people to tell ye the truth these days.”
Alec had to agree.
“May I see her?” she asked hopefully.
“Aye, ye can. I am certain she would like the company.”
While Patrice hurried inside, Alec returned to his pile of wood. He scooped up an armful and headed into the kitchens.
Adhaira was just finishing spooning porridge into a bowl when he stepped inside. The room was warm, the scent of rising bread and freshly prepared food filled the air. His stomach began to grumble as he stacked the wood next to the hearth.
“There ye be, m’laird,” Adhaira said as she placed the bowl on the tray. “I assume ye will be wantin’ to eat with yer wife, so there be plenty for the both of ye.”
Alec thanked her, grabbed the tray and left to take it to his wife.
When he neared his bedchamber, he could hear his wife and Patrice giggling about whatever it was that made women giggle. Using the toe of his booted foot, he carefully nudged open the door.
Leona was sitting up and Patrice was on the edge of the mattress. “Speak of the devil,” Leona giggled when she saw Alec enter the room.
For some unknown reason, Patrice found the comment quite funny. Hilarious, in fact, for she nearly tumbled from the bed with laughter.
“Although I be quite curious as to why Patrice is in such a state, I am no foolish enough to ask for an explanation.”
Leona continued to smile up at him. “’Tis probably best,” she said. “I fear the answer would confound ye.”
Alec rolled his eyes and set the tray on the opposite side of the bed. Patrice finally regained some control of her senses. “I be disturbin’ yer meal,” she said.
“Nay,” Alec argued politely. “I have work to tend to.” ’Twas true that he had work he needed to do. But he did not want Patrice to feel uncomfortable. And he knew his wife would probably prefer her company to his.
“Enjoy the meal and the morn,” he said with an inclination of his head. “I shall see you later this day,” he told Leona.
Before he was even out of the door, they were once again giggling like lasses who’d just seen their first naked arse.
“Those women sound horrible!” Leona told her husband. ’Twas just past the noonin’ hour and Alec had just finished telling her about Adhaira.
“Horrible might be a bit strong,” he told her. “Remember, they be Bowie women.”
Leona shook her head in disagreement. “Believe me Alec, fer I’ve been witness to such things more times than ye can count. People can be cruel, no matter their bloodline.”
On that, they could both agree.
“She be a bit shy at first,” Alec explained.
If anyone understood shy ’twas Leona. People had often mistaken her for shy, when she was anything but. “Do no’ worry over it, Alec. She and I may have more in common that either of us ken.”
He was glad that his wife did not argue over his decision to have Adhaira stay and work in the keep. Leona was not too proud to admit she needed help.
He left her long enough to go below stairs and fetch their new charge. They returned a short time later. Leona was standing now, beside the hearth with a fur draped around her shoulders. She had run a brush through her hair and braided it. Alec supposed she did not want to appear weak when meeting the girl for the first time.
“Adhaira, this be yer mistress,” Alec said by way of an introduction. “Leona, this be our new charge and scullery maid, Adhaira Bowie.”
Adhaira dipped a short curtsey as she eyed Leona suspiciously for a long moment.
“’Tis a pleasure to meet ye, Adhaira.”
“Thank ye, m’lady,” she whispered softly.
They stood eyeing one another for a long moment. “Alec, would ye please return me robe to me?” Leona asked. “I should like to sit a while with Adhaira and talk with her.”
Mayhap it was time to return her clothes to her, he supposed. “Verra well,” he said before quitting the room.
“Please,” Leona said with a nod toward the chairs. “Sit with me a while.”
Reluctantly, Adhaira took the chair opposite Leona.
“Do ye truly wish to be here?” Leona asked. “And, please, tell me true.”
The girl looked at her feet. Leona knew she was uncomfortable and tried to put her at ease. “Adhaira, I ken what people say about me behind me back. I ken the womenfolk here do no’ much care for me — though I do no’ rightly understand why, for they’ve made no attempt to get to know me.”
Adhaira remained silent as she fidgeted with her fingers.
“I be no’ a witch,” Leona told her. “Though many believe so because of me eyes.”
That statement drew her attention away from her fingers and feet. Adhaira looked up, took one look into Leona’s eyes before abruptly turning her gaze away.
Leona laughed. “Ye can look at them, lass. Ye’ll no’ burst into flames.”
“I be sorry, mistress,” she said in a soft voice.
“Do no’ be sorry, Adhaira. Ye can ask me anything ye wish about me eyes, or me.”
“Were ye born that way?” she asked.
“Aye, I was,” Leona answered. “Me da took one look at me and tried to convince me mum to put me in a fairie tree, or even drown me.”
Aghast, Adhaira looked up. “Nay!”
“Aye,” Leona said with a nod and a smile. “Thankfully, me mum refused.”
“Did yer da grow used to them? Yer eyes I mean? Was he glad he did no’ leave ye to die?”
It hurt, it truly did, to answer the girl’s questions. “Nay, lass, he never grew used to them. Even on the day I married Alec, he told me he wished me mum had listened to him, had let him drown me.”
’Twasn’t pity she saw reflected in Adhaira’s eyes, but a blend of confusion and sorrow.
“Now, I ask ye again, child. Do ye wish to be here? If no’, I will no’ be insulted, fer I have grown used to me eyes and the unsettlin’ they give people. Though, I will tell ye, I would verra much like to have ye here.”
“’Tis no’ that, m’lady. I mean, no’ yer eyes. People are eejits at times. Hexie and Matildis oft made fun of me.”
“Of ye?” Leona asked with a raise
d brow. “Why?”
“Because I would no’ lift me skirts for the men who like to visit our cottage. Because I do no’ like to sit around drinkin’ wine or ale all the day long. I did no’ fit in with their way of livin’.”
“I see,” Leona said.
Hesitantly, Adhaira got to the real reasons why she did not want to live in the keep. “They told me that I had to come live here. I was no’ given a choice. They also told me that I would no’ be able to say nay to the laird or his men when they came knockin’ on me door.”
Leona knew at once the meaning of what she left unsaid. Anger bubbled in the pit of her stomach. No matter how old she grew, she would never understand how some people could be so cruel. “Adhaira, ye have my solemn word that neither my husband or any of his men will come knockin’ on yer door. And if any of them ever do, ye have my permission to knock them senseless with the nearest object. Be it a chamberpot or fryin’ pan. Then, ye are to find me at once, so that I can beat them senseless.”
Adhaira’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Ye mean, I am no’ here to entertain them?”
“Entertain them?” Leona stammered. “Nay! Ye are here to help me in the kitchen and the keep. Cookin’ and cleanin’. Nothin’ more than that.”
Adhaira leapt from her chair and knelt before Leona. “Och! Thank ye, m’lady! Thank ye!”
Leona gave her a warm smile and a pat on her hands. “Now, tell me, can ye cook?”
Alec had to admit ’twas nice having someone else do the cooking. Having help now, he was able to stay abed with his Leona, and enjoy loving her before he started his day.
This morn, he loved her languidly, taking his sweet time to love every bit of her. Soft yet deep kisses that matched the pace of their joining. Joining with her was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. No matter how many times, nor how many different ways in which he loved her, each time felt more magnificent than the last.
When they finished, they lay side by side, out of breath, staring up at the ceiling. Leona’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling in the late morning light. A light sheen of perspiration covered her forehead as she smiled contentedly.
“’Twill it always be like this?” she murmured softly.
Although he was certain he knew to what she was referring, he asked, “Will ‘what’ always be like this?”
She grew quiet for a time. “Be ye hungry?” she asked, intentionally changing the subject.
“I could eat a bit,” he replied, wondering silently what it was she was not saying.
She made an attempt to slip from the bed.
“Nay, lass. Ye have one last day of rest before I allow ye out of this room.”
Leona let out a heavy, dejected sigh. “Alec, truly, I am well. There be no reason to keep me locked away.”
He chuckled and smiled broadly. “And if I like havin’ ye all to meself?” he teased as he pulled her against his chest.
He caught a glimpse of something behind her bright eyes and half-smile. Something he couldn’t recognize. “Are ye well lass?” he asked as he stroked her back with his palms.
“Aye, I am well. I fear I simply be tired of being cooped up all the day long.”
Uncertain if she was telling the truth or not, he kissed the tip of her nose. “Later this day, after I am done in the fields, would ye like to take a wee walk with me?”
“A walk?” she asked as she tilted her head to the side.
“Aye, a walk. Ye do ken what that is, aye?”
She rolled her eyes at his silliness. “Ye’re daft, Alec Bowie. Daft.”
He’d no argue it, for lately, he did feel quite daft. Especially when he was with her.
“Verra well, then,” he said as he patted her rump. “Ye shall rest for the remainder of the morn. And after the noonin’ meal, ye and I shall take a wee walk together.”
“Then ye shall be givin’ me back me clothes?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course I will. I can no’ have ye walkin’ about half naked. ‘Twould drive the men mad with lust.”
Another roll of her eyes before she slid away. “Ye be as daft as the day is long, Alec Bowie.”
Again, he did not argue with her, for he knew she spoke the truth.
Alec had returned from the fields not long after noontime, just as he had promised. As a courtesy to his wife, he bathed in the loch before heading back to the keep.
Wanting to eat before they left, he went to the kitchen in search of sustenance. The door was standing wide open. Adhaira was there, bent over a bubbling pot of something that smelled savory and delicious.
At hearing him enter, she stood upright to look at him. “M’laird,” she said with a nod. “Can I help ye?”
“What smells so good?” he asked, as he noticed the back door was also standing wide open.
Adhaira glanced at the pot behind her. “Venison stew. It be fer the evenin’ meal. There be dried meats, fruits, and bread there on the counter fer yer noonin’ meal.”
Disappointed, but still thankful, Alec went to the counter and took a few pieces of meat. “Be there a reason ye have the doors open?” he asked.
“Fresh air be good for the body and the soul,” she replied.
Whatever made the lass happy was fine with him. “Have we any cheese?” he asked.
With a nod, she laid the spoon on a damp cloth on the table before stepping into the larder. Alec was stuffing his face with a hunk of bread when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
“Satan?” he said the dog’s name, confused by his presence. “How did ye get out?”
The dog sauntered to his master and summarily began to lick Alec’s fingers. Before Alec could grab the dog’s collar, Satan was walking away.
“Satan!” he called out to the dog.
His bandogge did not heed his command, which in and of itself was highly unusual. What confused Alec was the fact the dog had left through the opposite door and toward the keep.
“Satan!” he called out once again. The dog continued to ignore him. He went to the rear door of the keep and barked at the door, as if he were begging entry. Alec, wholly confused by his dog’s actions, could only run after him.
Just as he grabbed the dog’s wide, black collar, Gylys opened the door to step outside. But upon seeing the bandogge, his eyes grew wide and he stepped back and away.
The dog lunged forward, as if he were in fast pursuit of a rabbit, jerking himself free from Alec’s grasp. He raced inside the keep at a full run, with Alec fast on his heels.
He didn’t bother to call after the animal because ’twas apparent it wasn’t going to listen. Entering the gathering room, he caught only a brief glimpse of the dog’s rear end as it bounded up the last few stairs and rounded the corner.
Leona! Alec was suddenly beset with dread. He raced through the gathering room and up the stairs. As soon as he made it to the doorway to his bedchamber, he heard his wife speaking sweetly to the dog. He paused to listen.
“Ye wee beastie!” she exclaimed happily. “How did ye get in here? Och! If Alec catches ye ’twill mean both our necks.”
Alec took a tentative step forward so that he could see better with his own eyes what exactly was taking place. His wife sat in a chair by the fire, with her back to the door. She was kissing and petting the bandogge as if it were a house cat!
Before he could utter a word of reproach, she spoke again.
“’Tis glad I am to see ye, Patches.”
Patches? No wonder the bloody thing had not listened to him. His wife had re-named him!
“It has been a verra long while since ye and I have talked, aye?”
Alec could see the dog resting his paws on his wife’s lap as she continued to show it much affection. “Ye be such a fine dog,” she told it.
Silence filled the room as Leona petted the back of the dog, not looking at it anymore. “I have a wee problem, Patches,” she whispered into the air. “Nay, it be a verra big problem, and I fear I do no’ ken what to do about it.
”
’Twas as if the dog understood her discomfort. He rested his head in her lap. Gently and slowly, Leona stroked its massive head as she continued to look at something only she could see. Alec’s curiosity was piqued, so he remained quiet, waiting and hoping she would disclose to the dog that which she could not share with him. More likely than not, she was going to complain about being ‘cooped’ up all the day long.
The room became silent for such a long while that Alec began to believe she wasn’t going to tell the dog anything. ’Twas a silent, inner battle his wife was fighting. For reasons he couldn’t quite understand, he wanted to go to her then, take her in his arms and whisper against her cheek that whatever was distressing her, she could share with him.
“Patches, if I tell ye a secret, do ye promise no’ to tell?” she asked the dog as she lifted his head and looked into his eyes. The dog whimpered and licked her hand as if to agree to her request.
“Ye see, I fear I have fallen in love with me husband. I did no’ mean fer it to happen, but it did.”
Alec’s eyes grew as wide and as round as wagon wheels. That was the last thing he was expecting to hear from his wife’s lips.
She looked away from the dog, once again focusing on something far away. “I ken he and I agreed this would never be a love match. Therein lies me problem. I feel as though I have broken the promise I made to him, that day back at Mackintosh lands when I agreed to marry him.”
Aye, they had agreed ’twas not and never could be a love match.
Terror seized his heart.
“I can no’ say how it happened. Mayhap, ’twas how kind he has been these past few days. Och, he’s been kind, in his own way, since the first time we met. But somethin’ has changed betwixt us. Or mayhap in him? I do no’ ken, Patches, what I am to do. I can no’ tell him, for I fear he could no’ ever love me back.”
He could take no more. Silently, stealthily, he turned around and walked away.
Chapter 24
My wife loves me.
He ran the words over and over in his mind. His father’s voice, which he believed he had finally locked away, came roaring back to life.
The Bowie Bride: Book Two of The Mackintoshes and McLarens Page 30