by Mary Wine
He gathered their horses, leaving her grateful he didn’t see the tear that escaped her eye. She’d made her choice and must accept the result.
He was accepting it at last.
She should have been pleased.
Yet she was not.
***
“Ye were out quite late last eve.”
Nareen wasn’t in the mood to deal with Abigail, but her mistress smiled and drew her fingers under her own eyes before looking at the dark circles beneath Nareen’s eyes knowingly.
“Aye, I went riding.”
“One of the stable lads told me Saer MacLeod followed ye.” Abigail looked around to make sure no one else was close enough to overhear. “Did ye let him have ye?”
Nareen felt her cheeks heat. “Nae.”
“Oh do nae be such a prude. I hear ye kissed him back in the chapel.” Abigail smiled slyly. “The blush staining yer cheeks says he kissed ye again last night.”
“It does nae matter,” Nareen said, dismissing the topic, “since ye shall be returning to court soon. Saer MacLeod has no liking for court.”
Abigail refused to be silenced. “I’ve had one or two like him.” She leaned closer and licked her lower lip. “There is something very pleasing about their hard bodies when they are riding ye. Even their arrogance can be enjoyed, since ye know ye do nae have to suffer it forever, like a wife.”
Nareen grabbed a gown and took it to the wardrobe to get her out of Abigail’s range. Her mistress laughed softly and brought the matching underskirt along.
“Maybe ye should let him rid ye of yer maidenhead. No one thinks ye have it anymore anyway,” Abigail whispered. “So there is no need to deny yerself.”
Oh, there was a need, but there was no way to explain it to her shallow mistress. Truthfully, she’d have to understand it completely herself, and when it came to Saer, Nareen was discovering a great deal of confusion. And frustration. And need.
Someone knocked on the outer chamber door.
“At last!” Abigail exclaimed with glee. One of the maids in the outer chamber opened the door.
Two Ross retainers pulled on the corner of their caps before turning and lifting a trunk. They carried it inside and set it down. Once they’d deposited it, they left, their kilts swinging behind them. Another pair followed with a second trunk, and then a third and fourth.
“We are going to pack, Nareen,” Abigail declared. “I am returning to court immediately, now that me father has agreed.”
It should have pleased her. Instead, Nareen discovered disappointment clawing at her. There was no sense in her feelings; however, at least that was something familiar. When it came to Saer MacLeod, her emotions had no sense either.
“I cannae wait to be back at court.”
Abigail sounded like a girl. She hummed a little tune as she twirled around and around in circles. The silk dress she adored rose up as she danced, showing off her stockings with their embroidery. It was a waste to wear such costly things in her private chambers, but Abigail refused to be practical.
“I am going to me father’s steward before me sire rises,” Abigail announced. “I must have silver for new gowns and other comforts.”
She skipped away, leaving Nareen and the maids to pack.
Saer had said it plainly and truthfully. Not that Nareen needed him to tell her what she already knew.
She shivered, recalling even the deep timbre of his voice.
There was no denying she had enjoyed it. In fact, she’d woken up with a hunger in her passage for something deeper.
Nareen froze, her thoughts bothering her.
Why would she wish to deny it? There would be only one reason, and that would be to argue with Saer. To quarrel simply for the sake of winning, no matter the truth of the matter, was foolish. And childish.
It was a good question, one she wanted to know the answer to herself.
Saer MacLeod would be there, in the shadows. She was sure of it.
A ripple of sensation moved down her back, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
“What should we do?”
One of the maids had spoken up. She and her companion were always banished to the receiving chamber when Abigail was present. Even now, they stood at the arched doorway that separated the receiving chamber from the dressing area. Another doorway behind Nareen led to the bedchamber. Abigail certainly liked to maintain herself in noble style and insisted that she have servants for each area. Nareen was the only one who might cross all three doorways without permission.
Pretentious.
“Come in, let us fill this trunk before she returns and makes simple tasks difficult.”
The two Ross women smiled knowingly, indulging themselves by showing their emotions since Abigail wasn’t there to reprimand them. Nareen fit a key into the locks on the wardrobes and opened them wide. There was the rustle of silk as underskirts and overskirts were lifted and folded carefully. Elaborately decorated headdresses were gently tucked inside of wooden boxes made especially for them, then placed into the trunks. Nareen busied herself with making sure all the smaller items necessary to a wardrobe were not left behind.
Things like chemises and stockings. Shoes and jewelry. She included veils and even hawking gauntlets, along with making sure a travel writing desk was well stocked with parchment, quills, and ink.
She knew what was needed, because she had been raised to know how to dress to represent her family. But she had never made her possessions so important. Abigail was quick to slap if any of her precious silk was marred. All of the maids tried to stay out of their mistress’s reach. Nareen was the only one Abigail held her hand with. Likely because she was afraid Nareen would slap her right back. Such actions would get her dismissed, but Nareen had a home to go to.
She didn’t want to be like Abigail, but she knew she was hiding behind her mistress. It was a hard truth, but one she needed to thank Saer for forcing her to see. No matter how frustrating she found his presence, she had to acknowledge the good he meant.
It was time to leave Abigail’s service. The decision felt good, relieving some of the uncertainty that had been lingering in her thoughts. But that left her with the choice of where to go.
Saer’s offer rose in her memory.
She had to stifle a dry laugh behind her hand before the other maids turned to investigate. Nareen didn’t need them seeing her bright cheeks.
Why did she blush for a man who was nowhere near? She wasn’t really sure she wanted to know the answer. But she had to face the fact that Saer fascinated her. In mind and body, but when she was close to him, all she wanted to do was feed her fascination with his body. Was she wanton? Possibly. The Church certainly warned that women who cast off submissiveness became prey to all forms of sinfulness. But she didn’t feel shame over it. She’d felt a great many things the night before, but the only time shame had risen to torment her was when Saer pointed out that she was hiding. That was cowardly.
She drew in a deep breath. There would be no more hiding. She was a Grant and born of Highlander stock. She would follow Abigail back to court and find her father’s envoy there to arrange escort home. And she would make sure her brother knew there would be no matches for her.
For a moment, she lamented the invitation she’d declined from Saer. It would haunt her, that opportunity she had refused to take. But there was nothing left to do about it.
Saer MacLeod was not a man to forgive such a slight.
She did not expect to see him again.
***
“I insist,” the Earl of Ross said with a flourish of his hand. “And do nae be looking at me as though hearing those words are akin to being challenged to a death match. I was yer age once too, lad, and remember the burn of pride very well. No man such as ye enjoys being told an old man wants his company for
the day.”
Saer choked out a single chuckle in response.
The earl grinned. “Yet, I think it will be in yer favor. Ye see, I heard ye are building up yer land.”
“Aye,” Saer confirmed. “The MacLeod suffered being raided after me sire rode with the king at Sauchieburn.” His voice hardened. “It will nae happen again.”
“A worthy reason to be spending yer coin on building.” The earl gestured at his retainers to pull his chair out, cringing as they did so. “Me knees complain bitterly these days. Wine soothes the pain, but I want to show ye me quarry, which means I must leave the wine for later.”
He made his way slowly down the steps until he stood next to Saer. “I lost the will to build when me sweet wife died.” For a moment, he was lost in his memories.
“Yet ye have an active stone quarry?” Saer asked to gain the man’s attention again.
The earl stiffened. “Aye. Aye! Ye see, there are men working there who are the sons of men who served me father. So ye see, I could nae cut off their wages. Now I know ye have stone aplenty, but I have a stockpile of stones that are cut and ready to be laid. Is that something ye’d like to see?”
“It is indeed.”
“Exactly what I thought ye might say and why I wanted to demand yer attention today.” The earl chuckled. “I sell off the cut stone to balance the books, but it has been a while since I had me a customer. They are just stacked up, waiting.”
He patted Saer on the shoulder. “Mind ye, if ye were here to court me daughter, that stone might have found itself attached to her dowry.”
“If I wanted to wed for gain, I did nae have to leave me land, but would have sent me secretary to sort out the details and fetch me a bride.”
“Are ye so sure I would have given me daughter into the keeping of a man who will nae look me in the eye?” The earl responded with a touch of vigor that hinted at the young man he must have once been.
Saer hooked his hands into the wide belt holding his kilt around his waist. “I’d expect ye to understand that I am very new to being laird of the MacLeod. They deserve a man who will nae ride off without good purpose, especially when the castle has been proven ineffective against attack.”
The earl seemed to slump, his eyes growing cloudy. “’Tis truly a shame that ye are nae drawn to Abigail. That lass needs a man with a sure hand, and I would see her with one who wants more than what I can dower her with.”
But he brightened and waved Saer forward. “I’ve plenty of stone and will make ye a better deal than anyone else.”
Saer felt a momentary tug of warning, but there was nothing out of place. He realized it was the fact that he hadn’t seen Nareen yet. Both she and her mistress had missed services.
He did need the stone, and the sooner he had it, the sooner he might depart for MacLeod land.
With Nareen.
He refused to consider any other outcome. She would be his, if he had to use the savage side of his nature to haul her home.
***
“We are leaving now.”
Nareen looked up as Abigail burst back into her chambers. Her face was flushed and her eyes bright with excitement. In her hands, she had a small chest with a lock on it that looked heavy, but she kept her grip tight on the handles.
“Good,” Abigail said as she looked at the trunks Nareen had been filling. “Close them up, I’ve already instructed that the horses and escort be readied.”
“I did nae realize we would leave quite so soon.”
Abigail smiled slyly and moved closer to Nareen. “Me father has taken Saer MacLeod off to the quarry. It’s the perfect time for both of us to take our flight.”
So he hadn’t left…
“But the king’s order for ye to be gone from court has nae yet reached its time.”
Abigail shrugged and put the smaller chest inside one of the larger ones. “The king will nae have time to notice I have returned a week or two early. I shall stay out of his sight and he’ll not even know I am there.”
Nareen doubted it. Abigail didn’t know how to avoid drawing notice to herself. “Hurry, Nareen. We must be well away before me father returns. Now that Saer MacLeod has had a taste of ye, I doubt he’ll think very long on riding after us if he thinks he can catch us.”
A memory of Saer on his black stallion surfaced. A ripple of sensation traveled along her spine and left her fighting back regret. But she’d made her decision, one that did not include Saer MacLeod in her life. She couldn’t worry too much about him. In fact, seeing him again would only grant her fickle emotions another opportunity to soften toward him. He made it appealing to change her mind.
But trust was too much. More than one bride had discovered her groom’s kindness evaporated after the wedding vows were spoken. Perhaps Abigail wasn’t so spoiled after all. It was possible the woman was no fool and had decided to enjoy the ease of being courted over the duty of being a wife.
Aye, there was a price for everything. Saer MacLeod’s offer to take her home with him would be no different. He’d already told her what he’d expect. Sons. And if she didn’t conceive quickly, or produced a daughter, his temper would rise. It was the way things were. Her only choice would be to not wed him.
“I am coming,” Nareen replied. Abigail laughed merrily as she rummaged through one of the open wardrobes for a dress suitable for traveling. Her smile didn’t even fade when she pulled out a wool dress.
“Do nae be so pensive, Nareen.”
Abigail brought the dress over and carelessly tossed it onto the bed.
“I’ll find ye plenty of lovers at court to take yer thoughts away from that savage.”
“I do nae wish ye to do so.”
Nareen was busy unlacing Abigail’s gown. Abigail let out a long sigh.
“Ye really should mature, Nareen. There is much pleasure to be had if ye will stop being such a child.”
Nareen slid the bodice off Abigail and began to help her with her overskirt. Abigail stood still, waiting to be disrobed.
“I know who is a good lover at court,” Abigail continued. “The Earl of Matheson’s sons are quite vigorous, and they do nae mind sharing.”
“I am nae interested,” Nareen maintained.
Abigail simply clicked her tongue. “There is naught like having two men to please ye at the same time. Men are often easily spent, leaving a woman unsatisfied.”
Nareen locked gazes with Abigail, sending her a stern look.
“As ye like,” Abigail groused.
Nareen finished dressing her and turned to making herself ready. Unlike Abigail, Nareen took time to be certain she had a dagger strapped to her thigh and another one tucked into her boot. Those were the things that mattered when one was riding across open land.
“Hurry, Nareen…” Abigail sang out cheerfully. The retainers had returned to take the trunks, and Abigail was hot on their heels.
Nareen took a moment longer to put on an arisaid. The length of plaid was falling out of fashion with many, but she’d been raised farther up in the Highlands, where tradition remained firm.
She was a Grant and would wear the colors proudly.
She used a belt to secure it around her waist. The wool fabric draped down her back, covering part of her skirt. She’d belted it at the three-quarters point, which allowed her to pull the end of it up and secure it on her right shoulder with a broach of silver, with her father’s crest. Fabric draped across her shoulders so she might raise it to cover her head and protect her from rain. Abigail would insist on a hooded cloak, but Nareen preferred her arisaid.
She slid a dagger between her belt and back before leaving. The drape of the arisaid hid it somewhat. There would be hell to pay if it was spotted, to be sure. But she wasn’t going onto the road unarmed. Her brother, Kael, might have agreed to Saer’s s
uit, but he’d also taught her to defend herself in spite of the Church’s teachings.
So she’d forgive Kael, just as soon as she made it clear to her brother that there would be no matches for her.
Her mind was set.
***
It was a fine day for traveling. The sun was warm, and there was no sign of rain. But the Ross retainers were not happy with their mistress’s order to ride out.
“It would be best if ye waited on yer father to return, mistress.”
The captain of the guard met Abigail at the top of the stairs that led out of the tower and into the yard. His tone was respectful but firm. He blocked Abigail’s path to the yard, gripping the wide leather belt holding his kilt around his waist.
“I do nae wish to wait,” Abigail informed him with her nose in the air. She swished her hand, but the captain remained firmly planted in her path.
“Yer father took a large escort with him,” the captain continued. “I have only limited numbers of men to provide ye as escort. On the morrow, I will have the proper number to ensure yer safety.”
The horses were standing ready, along with a wagon holding Abigail’s trunks. She gazed longingly at them, but Nareen focused on the six Ross retainers. They held their expressions tight, but there was no missing the look in their eyes that told of their misgivings. Six was not enough if they encountered trouble.
“We should wait,” Nareen counseled Abigail.
“I do nae wish to wait,” Abigail whined.
Nareen shared a frustrated glance with the captain. He had his hands settled on his belt, which reminded her of Saer.
“Mistress, I would prefer nae to send ye out so poorly attended. The MacKays—”
“Have nae raided in months!” Abigail cried. “I am going back to court. No one will trifle with me. They will fear I have the ear of the king.”
Abigail started down the steps. Nareen grabbed Abigail’s wrist. “It’s an unnecessary risk. Ye need to consider those six men. Two are only lads. If there is trouble, they will suffer for yer choice.”
Abigail’s eyes widened with outrage. “How dare ye tell me what to do. Ye are me—” She shook off Nareen’s grip. “If ye do nae do as I bid ye, I shall tell me father I am finished with ye, and to give ye to that savage.”