The kitchen servants burst into laughter, causing Garrick to frown. He did not appreciate being a part of their gossip.
“Ye may get him in yer bed, but yer reward will likely be a babe in yer belly and nothing else,” a woman called out.
“He willnae marry ye, ye silly girl.” Another chorus of laughter erupted from those near enough to hear the conversation.
One of the other women said, “I have heard Laird Dristan will look no lower than a knight fer her husband.”
Fira’s smirk could be heard in her reply. “Then ’tis settled. Since Garrick holds no title, he is considered beneath her station in life, so our laird willnae let them marry.”
“Ye think that matters when yer in love? Ye best set yer sights on someone else fer ’tis plain fer all tae see Lady Coira has won Garrick’s heart.”
“Ye know nothing of Garrick’s heart,” Fira yelled.
“Then take a look the next time they are together,” the woman mocked. “Only someone who is blind wouldnae notice they have fallen fer one another.
“Yer wrong,” Fira all but shouted.
“Heed my words, Fira, and leave him be. Another has already claimed him,” the woman taunted afore returning to her work.
Garrick left before he was discovered, confronting the boys now all but forgotten. He took his place at the table with some of Amiria’s guardsmen. A goblet was thrust into his hand but he barely tasted the heady brew. His eyes focused on the lovely woman at the raised dais. When the lady raised her chalice in a silent salute, Garrick returned the gesture with a smile. His happiness was short lived when Fira brushed by him with tear-filled eyes.
Guilt wracked his body for unknowingly hurting Fira but more so that he had left Coira ignorant of who he was. He must speak with her posthaste. Food barely passed his lips, for he had no stomach to eat when he knew what must needs be done and quickly. He simply needed to figure out a way to get her from Morgan’s side so he might have a private word with her. Such an obstacle might be the end of him.
Chapter 9
Coira observed Morgan as he finished off what was left of the food on the trencher they had been sharing. There was still an overabundance of victuals before her that had barely been touched. She had picked at her own portion of the meal but found she had no appetite. Her mind continued to wander to one knight in particular sitting amongst the warriors who protected Berwyck’s walls. She felt his stare and when their eyes met across the crowded hall, her heart leapt within her chest. She smiled in his direction, and he gave her a slight nod.
“He is not good enough for you,” Morgan muttered, reaching over to fill her side of the trencher, “and you should eat lest you fall over in a faint. A bird eats more than you have this eve.”
Coira took a small nibble to appease the man next to her. “Will there be any man worthy of me in your eyes, Morgan?” she asked him with a raised brow.
“Nay.”
“Sir Garrick is a fine man,” she retaliated.
“Bah! You do not even know him,” he snapped, his brow furrowing in suppressed annoyance.
“I know him well enough that I can honestly say I care for him.” Coira pushed the food with her utensil around on the trencher. Could she really feel something for Sir Garrick in such a short amount of time?
“Nay, you do not, for he has not told you…” he clamped his lips shut.
Lady Amiria leaned forward to interrupt. “Morgan, ’tis not your place.”
Morgan reached for his chalice and took a sip. “She needs to know, my lady.”
“And she shall hear it for herself from Garrick.”
“’Twould be far better for her to have a nobleman to marry to keep her in the manner to which she is accustomed and not—”
“Leave it be, Morgan,” Amiria warned with a scowl.
Coira looked between the pair, who now remained tight-lipped. She could not stand their silence. “What is this secret you two are keeping from me?” They did not reply, which only irritated Coira for she could not figure out what was going on around her.
Any further attempts to partake of the evening meal were gone, for Coira could not do anything more than drink her wine. Soon, the food was cleared, and the tables began to be moved in order to allow for dancing. Garrick began to make his way towards the raised dais, and she hoped he would ask for the first dance.
“Play us a tune, Piper,” someone in the hall called out, causing Garrick to flinch before sliding to a halt in the middle of the room. He gazed in her direction, his face stricken with grief, but why?
“Aye, mayhap the lute this eve,” another nameless face beckoned. “At least we know you play better than you fight with a sword.”
The hall erupted in laughter but Coira did not join in their merriment. ’Twas at last clear to Coira. She had made a horrible mistake by assuming Garrick had earned his spurs. He was the clan piper and not a knight of honor! She had been made a fool, and everyone within the hall knew of her foolish misunderstanding.
A sob tore past her lips and, before Morgan or Lady Amiria could stop her, she fled the room. She ignored her name being called out as she ascended up the turret stairs on slippered feet. If only she could reach the sanctity of her room, but ’twas not to be for Garrick easily caught up with her. She began to run down the passageway.
“Coira! Wait,” he bellowed.
“Leave me alone,” she roared, continuing her way towards her chambers. She reached for the latch and entered the portal. As she went to slam the door shut, he forced his way inside and slid the bolt.
“Get out of my chamber!”
“Nay,” Garrick pleaded holding out his hands, “not till ye let me right the wrong I have done.”
She pointed towards the door. “You made me the laughing stock of the entire castle, Garrick. How could you let me go on believing you were a knight?”
“I am most sorry, Lady Coira, but I meant tae tell ye. I just couldnae find the right time.”
“Surely you jest, sir! You do not think you could have told me earlier this day when we were alone in the forest?”
“I had my mind on other things,” he muttered but had the decency to appear ashamed.
A sarcastic laugh erupted from Coira. “Oh… aye… I know exactly what you were thinking.”
“I willnae regret kissing ye in the forest, Coira,” he answered. A worried frown marred his handsome face. “I know ’twas wrong of me tae not put an end tae yer assumption I was a knight.”
“You should have been the one to tell me,” she snarled, poking her finger into his chest. He caught her hand and pulled her into his arms. “Let go of me.”
“We shall have this out now between us.”
“Nay, we will not,” she said trying to push at his chest. ’Twas like attempting to move a wall of stone. He budged not even an inch. “You all have been jesting with me, making me appear the fool. How shall I ever show my face outside this room again?”
“No one thinks such of ye, my sweet Coira,” Garrick replied, brushing her cheek.
Her eyes widened, even whilst her traitorous heart beat faster at hearing the endearment. She would not give him the satisfaction of forgiving him. “I am not your Coira.”
He backed her up against the door. “Aye… ye are.”
She watched in fascination and horror as his head began to lower, and he closed his eyes. “Do not dare ki—”
Her words were cut off as his mouth descended upon hers. She did everything in her power to not respond and was watching when Garrick’s eyes flew open. He stepped back as if he realized his error… again.
She advanced upon him. “Do not think you can easily kiss away the hurt you have inflicted upon me this day. Please leave my chamber, Garrick.”
“Ye cannae deny there be something between us, lass.” He tried again to approach her, but she held up her hand.
“Get out,” she snapped out sharply.
Garrick made his way to the door and slid the bolt. Flinging open
the door, he came face to face with Lord Dristan and Morgan, their expressions grim.
“Are you all right, Lady Coira?” Lord Dristan asked gruffly.
“Aye,” Coira stated choking back a sob. “Garrick was just leaving.”
Garrick looked back over his shoulder towards her. “We will have speech on the morrow, Coira, so I may set the matter aright between us.”
Lord Dristan took hold of Garrick’s tunic and pulled him into the passageway. “I believe you must needs have a conversation with your liege lord before you have any discussion with the Lady Coira. Get thee to my solar, Garrick.”
Coira watched them depart, leaving Morgan standing in the portal with clenched fists. “Did he harm you?”
Coira walked to the door with steadier feet than she thought she was capable of. “Not in the way you may think, Morgan.” At his quizzical look, she shook her head. “I will be fine. I just want my privacy. I am sure you understand.”
She did not give him any further explanations but shut the door and slid the bolt. Far into the evening she sat upon the edge of her bed, wondering how she could have made such a foolish mistake. How would she ever be able to save face in the eyes of those who lived within Berwyck’s walls?
She continued her vigil until dawn lit the furthest reaches of the eastern sky. One thing weighed more heavily on her mind than her embarrassment and her pain. Try as she might, she could see no way to resolve the obstacle now before her. For how would Lord Dristan ever consent for her, a lady of the realm, to marry a mere clan piper? ’Twas an impossible situation, and one that sealed her fate of never being able to marry for love.
Chapter 10
Garrick continued his vigilant morning prayers even whilst the chapel emptied of those seeking Father Donovan’s blessings and absolutions of their sins. Head bowed, his fingers clutched at the book of prayers given to him by his grandmother on the day he had turned ten and eight. He brought the book upwards and tapped the cover against his forehead. She would be disappointed in him if she yet lived.
He had known he had been in the wrong to not tell Coira the truth about his status within the clan. He had been so taken by her and so afraid she would no longer see him in the same light once she found out the truth. May God above forgive him. He was unsure he would ever be able to erase the hurt in her eyes. ’Twould haunt him to the end of his days.
His conversation several nights ago with his liege lord also weighed heavily on his mind. Laird Dristan had made it perfectly clear Garrick was to keep his distance from his ward. The berating he had received had reminded Garrick of his place within the clan and Laird Dristan’s household, despite the extra training he had been receiving without anyone’s knowledge. Never, in all his life till now, had Garrick wished he was a true knight of the realm. His wishes had changed, but his status had not. His deepest desire, to be Lady Coira’s husband, appeared unattainable.
Garrick once more turned to his prayers, but no matter how hard he asked for forgiveness, he knew within him only one person would be able to ease the pain within his soul. Unfortunately, Coira would have nothing to do with him. Days had passed, and yet he had been told she refused to leave her chambers. How could he profess his love for her if she refused to see him? He was doomed.
“You really do care for her.” Rolf’s voice whispered through his mind, and Garrick’s head rose from his prayers.
“Aye, Sir Rolf, I do indeed.” Garrick looked about the chapel and watched in amazement when a smoky distortion began to take shape in the form of a lone knight long since gone from the land of the living.
“You will cost me much for appearing to you as I am,” Rolf declared, looking as real as if he in truth sat next to him on the bench.
Garrick reached out his hand, but his fingers went straight through the apparition at his side. ’Twas then he realized he had heard Rolf’s voice out loud. “Am I dead?” he asked in alarm. He quickly made the sign of the cross.
Rolf chuckled. “Nay, but you will be if you harm one hair upon my sister’s head.”
“I have no desire tae have ye haunting me fer the rest of my days, Sir Rolf. Yer sister’s happiness is all I desire.”
“You seem sincere enough, and ’tis all I ask of you.”
“Are ye, mayhap, giving me yer blessing?”
Rolf sighed. “From what I have witnessed, your souls are bound to one another. Perchance you have met in another place in time. I, for one, will not stand in your way, as long as you make things right with Coira.”
“She willnae have speech with me,” Garrick grumbled.
“Do you blame her?”
“Nay, but her distance makes it nigh impossible for me tae apologize.”
Rolf observed him for several minutes before he apparently came to some decision. “She is currently walking up on the battlement walls. I will see what I can do on your behalf. Perchance by the time you make your way there yourself, she will hear you plead your case.”
“Ye would perform such a service for me?” Garrick asked, as Rolf’s form faded in the light of the chapel.
“I would do anything for the man my sister loves.”
As Rolf’s words registered in Garrick’s mind, he gave another word of prayer and thanks, feeling hopeful for the first time in days that mayhap all would work out as it should.
* * *
Coira carefully strode along the narrow parapet walkway, lost in thought. ’Twas the first day she at last felt ’twas time she left her chamber and sought the fresh air to calm her frayed nerves. She was as much to blame for her folly as Garrick. She had come to such a revelation only this morn. Why it had taken so long for her to admit her own mistake was beyond her ken.
She had purposefully stayed away from Garrick. She feared once she laid eyes upon him, she would make a spectacle of herself by throwing herself into his arms, begging for forgiveness. How was she to approach him now? How was it possible to go back and start anew?
Coria leaned her forearms on the stone wall to peer down below into the inner bailey. Beyond the curtain wall, she could see the stretch of beach with the ocean waves crashing into the shore. A feeling of peace overwhelmed her till she shivered as though something had whispered across her soul.
She blinked as the very air before her distorted. Try as she might, she could in no way calm her breathing. What in heaven’s name was she witnessing? Was she perchance losing her mind? The vision continued to take shape. She gave a startled gasp of surprise and fell to her knees in disbelief when she saw her beloved brother appear.
“Rolf! Do my eyes deceive me? How is this possible you are standing before me?” she asked, a sob of joy escaped her.
He gave her a sad sort of smile before he raised his eyes heavenward. “My Lord God, please grant my humble request to hold my sister just this once,” he murmured in a fervent prayer. As though in answer, a beam of light came from the skies above and shone down upon Coira.
Rolf held out his hand, and Coira grabbed ahold of his fingers before she was hauled into the waiting arms of her brother. “Oh Rolf! ’Tis a miracle,” she cried out giving him a fierce hug.
“Aye but one that will not last but an instant. Let me look at you.” He cupped her face and placed a kiss upon each cheek. “Just as lovely, if not more so, than I remember.”
She laughed. “You are jesting with me, my dearest Rolf. You know you were always the good looking one in the family. My face is rather plain and not one the bards would praise in song,” she teased.
“You are beautiful to me and always have been,” he murmured. “How I have missed you, my sweet sister.”
Coira was hauled back into his arms, and yet she could feel his grip lessening around her. She clasped him tighter till she stumbled when his form once more turned into but a vague whisper of an image. She tried to cover her disappointment with a timid smile. “I suppose to have you hold me even for just a moment is better than to never have done so at all,” she said, tears brimming in her eyes at such a gift. H
er feelings were a jumbled mess. Her great relief when her brother appeared to her warred with her sadness as he became a ghost once more.
“I will have a hard time recovering from all I have done this day in order to have those whom I care about see me in such a state,” he answered, with the cocky smile she was used to seeing in Rolf’s visage.
“Then you must have a message of grave import if you are appearing before me, although I had hoped you would at some time whilst I remained here at Berwyck. The servants fear you.”
“Bah! I have given them no cause to do so.”
“’Tis said you haunt the place and will not move on.”
“’Twas a small price to pay so I might look after those I left behind.”
“Like me?” Her voice shook, and she wished she could once again have her brother hold her in his arms, but ’twas not to be.
“Aye,” he confessed, but Coira could see him beginning to fade and knew he would not be with her for much longer, “but only for as long as you remain at Berwyck, for I am bound to the castle grounds.”
“I am not certain I can stay here, although I have no idea where else I might go.”
“Berwyck is a fine place to call home, Coira, and Dristan is family. You may not have had much of an opportunity to know him in your youth, but he will care for you on my behalf.”
“His reputation has preceded him. I am somewhat afraid of him, as are those who serve him,” she stated with a shudder.
“Dristan’s reputation is mostly from those who have met him upon the battlefield. Most of what you hear is no more than rumor. He is hardly the fierce, fire-breathing dragon you might imagine him to be,” Rolfe teased, then continued. “But do not let him know I have told you this. Our liege lord does not want his people to believe he is getting soft.”
She gave a light laugh. “If you say so, then it must be true.”
Rolf gave her a smile. “You shall be happy here, Coira, but only because of a certain man who cares for you.”
The Piper’s Lady: The MacLarens (Book Three) Page 5