“Lady Beatris, I’d ask ye kindly show Lady Mairghread to her chamber, please. Then Alan perhaps ye’d take Lady Mairghread for a turn or two around the gardens. It might be a nice way to become acquainted with yer future wife.” He turned back to notice the Sinclair brothers glaring at Alan. They were clearly not impressed with their future brother-by-marriage.
Tristan watched as Lady Beatris led Mairghread, albeit grudgingly, up the stairs to her chamber. Alan came down from the dais for Tristan’s introduction to his intended’s family. Tristan surmised Laird Sinclair was sizing Alan up both physically and by his character. While Sinclair looked to be pleasantly impressed by Alan’s clear warrior physique, his lips turned down when he looked into Alan’s eyes. He glanced toward the stairs that Beatris and Mairghread had just taken. An expression of regret flashed so quickly across his eyes that Tristan was not sure if he had made it up in his own mind. When he looked to the other men, he noticed that Mairghread’s brothers had stealthily formed a slight semicircle around Alan. He was almost boxed in with no way to move forward unless they let him pass. He listened as they each introduced themselves to Alan. The oldest and tánaiste, or heir, was Callum, and he seemed to be the calmest of the group. He was followed by Alexander, who served at Callum’s second. He had an air of authority that matched his brother’s, but he seemed more shrewd and cunning. Tristan deduced he was one to be careful not to make an enemy of. The third brother, Tavish, was the shortest of the four, but only by a hair. He most resembled their father in build. While the other three brothers were broad across the chest and shoulders, Tavish had their father’s barrel chest. The fourth and youngest brother, Magnus, was the largest of the lot. He looked as though he tossed cabers as a daily warm up before training for eight hours. He looked like a positive giant. Tristan was aware Magnus and Mairghread were the closest in age and were extremely close. For Alan’s sake, he hoped that Alan never angered Magus as he was not sure Alan would survive.
Tristan picked up the conversation as Alan remembered his manners. He caught Alan saying, “Perhaps ye would like to join our men out in the training yard. I would join ye, but as ye heard, I must take yer sister out for a walk.” Perhaps he had not remembered his manners after all.
Tristan almost cringed at Alan’s tone. He made it sound like he was being forced to take a dog out for a walk rather than spend time with his future wife. While all the Sinclair men’s faces remained neutral, there was a shift in the air. Things were not off to a good start. Not good in the least. Tristan only hoped the afternoon would turn the situation around, or they may never get around to signing the betrothal papers.
~~~
In her chambers, Mairghread breathed a calming breath as she turned to face her soon-to-be mother-by-marriage. Just the walk to the chamber had been enough to grate on Mairghread’s nerves. Lady Beatris had a whining lilt to her already nasal voice. She had not come up for air once she launched into describing all the wonderful attributes that her son had. While the woman was convinced of every single word she spoke, it sounded as if she was a tinker selling her son and he were a shiny trinket made from dinged and warped iron.
When Lady Beatris paused to close the door, Mairghread found her opportunity to speak up. “Lady Beatris, thank ye for showing me the way. I shall only be a moment while I change. I notice ma trunk has already made its way up here. I will return to the Great Hall to join yer son on our walk.”
While that was as strong a hint as she dared give, she hoped that the woman would take it. That was not to be the case.
“Lady Mairghread, I would be happy to help ye with yer gowns. Though I see ye dinna follow the court fashions. The well-polished and sophisticated ladies of the court wear the ties to their gowns in the back. It takes at least one lady in waiting or maid to assist them in and out of their gowns. Ye might consider a change in yer wardrobe once ye become the wife of the Clan Mackay tánaiste. A wardrobe that better suits yer elevated status, perhaps.”
Mairghread gritted her teeth. She had been presented at court several times over the course of her life as her father was a well-respected Highland laird. She was all too well aware of what happened at court from the wardrobes of those women to their scheming and unchaste behavior. She had wanted no part of that in the past and wanted no part of it now. She preferred her gowns to have the ties in the front, so she did not have to rely on anyone to assist her. She enjoyed her privacy, the little that she had with four brothers, and when she retired to her chamber, she liked to be alone. As for elevated status, she did not see how this elevated her status in any way. She was the only daughter of one of the wealthiest and most powerful lairds in the Highlands, in all of Scotland. She was a wealthy heiress in her own rights as her dowry included many household items, jewelry, and a passel of land. She loosened her jaw and forced herself to relax.
I have naught to prove to that auld biddy. She blathers on a bit. Does she ever haud her wheest?
“I dinna care for court fashion as I find it impractical to ma duties around the keep. I prefer to dress maself than have a maid do it. I like ma privacy.” A stronger hint given. Will she get it?
“Oh. Well, yes then. I shall meet ye below.” Lady Beatris left with a harrumph and a swish of her skirts.
Mairghread released the breath she had not realized she was holding. She slipped out of her kirtle and splashed water onto her face and neck. There was a drying cloth folded on the table next to the bowl. She spotted her bar of lavender and heather soap on the other side of the bowl. She made quick work of washing herself down as best as possible without a tub. She was into a new kirtle and on her way out of the chamber in less than five minutes.
I may as well get this walk over with. I wish I hadnae said aught. I might have gone by maself if I hadnae opened ma gob. That man is vile, and I will tie myself to him for the rest of ma life. Bluidy bleeding hell.
Her inner monologue ceased as she reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the Great Hall. She looked at her brothers and father and realized in the short time she was gone, things had not improved. All four of them stood with their arms crossed and appeared to be listening intently to whatever Alan was saying. However, after a lifetime of her father’s mannerisms which her brothers had adopted either by nature or nurture, she knew what their stance meant. They were not pleased. They were hiding their disdain and boredom for the most part, but their crossed arms showed they did not welcome Alan into the conversation like they had Laird Mackay.
At the thought of Laird Mackay, her eyes shifted to search for him. He stood apart from the other men as he talked to someone she had not seen earlier. Both brothers were warriors in their build, but Laird Mackay was the brawest man she had ever laid eyes on. As her mind settled on an image of eyes, her curiosity demanded she get a closer peek at his eyes. Were they emerald green or more like moss after it rained? Her breath caught again just as it had when she arrived, and her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the Great Hall after being outside. He was unlike any man she had met in her score and two years. He was built like an oak tree with trunks for legs, ones that she peered at below his plaid and above his mid-calf boots. He had the arms of a blacksmith, his forearms had to be almost a wide around as her thigh. His shoulders were so broad it would surprise her if he had to turn sideways to go through most doorways, and he probably had to bend down as well. He had to be close to six and a half feet tall. She had always considered her brothers to be the most impressively built men she had ever seen, but Tristan Mackay made them resemble lads who still had some growing to do. Even her giant of a brother, Magnus, did not seem as braw as Tristan.
She forced her eyes away from Tristan, but as soon as they settled on Alan, she wished she had not. He was a disappointment in comparison. She knew she should not view him that way, but it was the truth to her. While he had the physique of a well-trained warrior, he just did not seem as braw as his stepbrother. He had fair hair and blue eyes, both nondescript shades. It was clear they came from di
fferent stock as they were not blood relatives, but from what she understood, they had grown up together from being weans. There was an arrogance about Alan that she found exceedingly off putting. No one had noticed her enter the Great Hall yet, so she took the opportunity to observe her future betrothed. He still talked with her family, but from her current position, she noticed how his eyes darted around the Great Hall as though he was looking for something. When his gaze landed on a busty serving woman and he smirked, Mairghread got an even better sense of the man that they meant her to marry. She continued to observe Alan. He moved on to watch another two women in much the same way. One approached the group of men with a tray of ale for each. She leaned forward as she served her brothers, giving them a clear view of her ample bosom. As she leaned forward, she positioned her backside next to Alan. He gave her a surreptitious pinch as he grinned at the Sinclairs. As she walked away, he gave her an overt pat on the backside. She was positive one of her brothers growled. Next, he looked at two much younger serving women. It was impossible that the young women were over sixteen or seventeen years old. They both took a step back from the table they were clearing off. He frightened them, and they did not want his attention.
So, he chases all the women employed in the keep. Or at least the ones he considers worth bedding. The older women enjoy his attention, but the younger ones shy away. I wonder if that is the case with most of them. What does he do that has the more experienced women showing him attention while the inexperienced want nothing to do with him? Is he skilled in the bedchamber or does he lavish his women with gifts or perks? Or have these women learned it is easier to do his bidding?
Once again, Mairghread found her mind running away with her as she assessed her potential husband. In her mind, he was moving away from definitively being her new husband to being only a potential husband. She was aware this would not do her any good. She needed to accept what was already in the works. Whether or not she liked him would not sway the need for an alliance or her father’s mind. She fervently hoped that she was only seeing a superficial version of Alan and that there would be more substance, even if it took time to find it. Perhaps he would improve once he committed to her and to marriage. Somehow, the back of her mind kept telling her that did not seem likely.
She knew she could not hide much longer, or people would wonder what was keeping her. She did not want the Mackays to get the idea that she would be awkward and prim. Taking too long to reappear might give them the impression she was materialistic and fussy. She stepped out into the hall and walked towards the six men. As she walked past the woman Alan pinched, she did not miss the enmity in the woman’s eyes. She passed two more women who gave her much the same hostility. As she passed an older woman, she noticed pity. The two younger women who had been cleaning the table also gave her looks of pity. So those who ken him pity me, and those who ken him find me to be competition. Mairghread offered warm smiles to all whom she passed. She said hello to those who seemed willing to hear her.
Once she joined the men, they all turned to watch at her. It made her self-conscious to have all these eyes on her because she sensed everyone else in the hall was looking at her too. Understandably, they were trying to gain any insight into the new lady in the keep.
She turned her warmest smile on Alan and almost gasped at the leer he gave her. His eyes never travelled higher than her cleavage, which she had an ample amount of most summer gowns poorly hit. Now she did not want to walk the gardens with him. She did not want to be anywhere near him and certainly not alone, but she was the one who had mentioned it.
Alan extended his arm to her. “Shall we take that turn aboot the garden, ma sweet. I realize now that it was an excellent suggestion. I only wish I had come up with it maself.” His candy sweet words made her want to retreat. Her intuition scream a warming about being around him. She could not put her finger on it. It was not pure fear or pure revulsion but some combination of the two. She placed her hand on his forearm, but he tucked it around the crook of his arm and began to drag her towards the door. She shot an anxious glance over her shoulder at Magnus, and the nod of her head was so brief that Tristan almost missed it. Magnus immediately fell into step behind them. Alan turned back and glared at him. Magnus simply crossed his arms and shrugged. Mairghread did not understand how he managed to walk with his arms crossed, but it certainly made him appear even fiercer than he normally did.
The trio made their way down the steps to the inner bailey. The keep was designed in three parts with the original tower on the left closest to the gate. The midsection of the keep was boxier with three stories. There were arrow slits on the second story and proper windows on the third. Mairghread’s chamber was on the second floor and had two arrow slits. She assumed the laird’s family chambers were on the third floor and enjoyed proper windows. The third section of the keep was the kitchens. As they turned in that direction, Mairghread waited for Alan to tell her about what they passed, but his attention was everywhere but on her. She realized that she appreciated the respite from talking as she did not have anything to say to him. She looked at each of the buildings they passed. Just outside the kitchen were large ovens used to bake the day’s bread. Tucked behind the kitchens, close to the bailey wall, was the laundry. She watched women working at a cauldron over a large fire. There were two women with large wooden spoons the length of a man stirring the contents. There were another five who stood over a trough scraping clothes along washboards. The last thing she noticed were four more women moving along the clothes lines taking down dry clothes and replacing them with the wet ones. It reminded her of home. She had often helped the women with the laundry. While they would never let her do any of the actual washing, she helped with the clothes lines. Directly across from the laundry, the noise and heat coming from the blacksmith’s forge reached her. The din was almost overwhelming. The blacksmith and what looked to be three apprentices were busy working on horseshoes and swords. The apprentices resembled the blacksmith with a shocking blaze of carrot orange hair. Must be his sons. Next came a series of small buildings with no one about. She assumed these were storage buildings. They most likely held seed, threshed wheat, shorn wool, and any other items that there was an overabundance, making it too much to be kept in the keep’s storage areas. Mairghread had noticed the stables when they came through the portcullis. She longed to check on her horse, Firelight. She would ask Alan on their way back.
Alan yanked on her arm to draw her to the left. He pulled hard enough that she almost stumbled. Rather than slow down or apologize, he huffed and made a sound of impatience. Mairghread heard her brother growl from behind them. She sensed more than saw Magnus close the gap between them. If Alan halted, Magnus would plow into him. For a second, it tempted Mairghread to make that happen. However, she did not want to antagonize Alan. She was unsure whether he had a temper. She got the distinct sense that he was the kind of man who did, so she kept moving.
They approached the gardens, and Alan opened the gate but did not wait for Mairghread to pass through first. In fact, the gate almost slammed shut on her. Magnus’s arm shot forward to push the gate back open and let her pass through. She raised her eyebrows at her brother as she said thank you.
“Are ye coming or just going to wait at the entrance? Ye said ye wanted to tour the gardens. Here they are.”
Alan’s tone was anything but inviting. Mairghread was quickly running out of patience for all things Mackay, well, all things Mackay other than Tristan.
Chapter Two
A
lan spent all of twenty minutes in Mairghread’s and Magnus’s company once they entered the garden. He excused himself with a trite “I must check on the men.” He skedaddled moving as though his pants were on fire. The siblings wandered through the garden at a leisurely pace. They were just under a year apart in age and were almost more like twins than anything else. They had been constant companions from the time that Mairghread was crawling fast enough to catch up to a toddling Magnus. She was
close to all of her brothers, but she and Magnus were inseparable except for when they had to be, or Magnus gallivanted about with the other men. Mairghread was aware of what they got up to as she had made the mistake of following Magnus when she was four and ten and he was five and ten. She got more of an eyeful than she had ever expected when she showed up at the back of the alehouse in the village. There was Magnus with his plaid thrown up to his shoulders, arse to the wind, thrusting into a barmaid. It shocked her so much, she had not made a sound for at least a good thirty seconds, and then she had squeaked. She had never squeaked in her life, but she did then. Magnus whirled around to catch his sister wide eyed and open mouthed. He did not know what to do. The top half of him wanted to run after his sister and apologize of all things, but the bottom half of him wanted to finish what he had started. At five and ten, it took him but a couple more minutes to finish what he started, and he dashed off after his sister without a word or a coin to the barmaid. He had caught up to his sister and pulled her to a stop. A conversation that neither had ever imagined they would have ensued. Magnus explained the mechanics to her and much, much more. With no living mother to explain these things to Mairghread and a father who would never, could never, have such a conversation with his daughter, the responsibility fell onto Magnus’s young shoulders. Mairghread learned more about the goings on between a man and a woman than she ever imagined. While Magnus admitted that he was not the most experienced, he had now done it enough times to give some insight. Magnus answered each and every question that Mairghread had, and there were quite a lot. By the end, Mairghread understood that there was more to coupling than just the breeding she had seen between horses in the pastures and the cattle on the hills.
Heroes of Honor: Historical Romance Collection Page 77
