A Laird and a Gentleman

by Gerri Russell

  Cameron stiffened. “What are they doing?”

  “Coming to us.” She tried to keep her words light. “They obviously see us as friendly or they would have run away.”

  “I’ve never seen such an occurrence before.”

  Mariam shrugged, trying to hide her own discomfort over the animals’ unexpected behavior. “Perhaps they are hungry for more than grass and are expecting us to feed them.”

  “Perhaps,” Cameron drawled skeptically. “The question is, will they follow us back to the castle or will you need to round them up as was your initial plan?”

  She’d come here today with no real plan, and she didn’t know the first thing about rounding up sheep. She had anticipated the sheep would be favorable to her presence, but not quite this eager to be near her. “We won’t know until we head back.” Careful to avoid the sheep closest to her, she turned her horse around and retreated. As she suspected, the sheep followed. At least she had accomplished part of her task—to gather the sheep. Now if they could only bring them home without incident.

  Cameron’s attention shifted from the animals trailing after them back to her many times, but he said nothing as his horse fell into step beside hers. Silence descended between them. It wasn’t until they were within sight of the castle that Mariam again felt a presence nearby. Who was there? Was it a deadly enemy or was someone stalking her? It could be any number of people her father had harmed, or their families, who had come to exact their revenge upon her.

  And then she saw a lone figure in the distance astride a horse. She saw it was her own maid, Thea. She’d been the one following them, watching them all through the morning. No doubt she had seen the sheep and their reaction to Mariam’s presence. Now what, if anything, would she do with that information?

  Mariam forced her gaze back to the path ahead, not wanting to alert Cameron to Thea’s presence. Mariam wanted to talk to the girl first and learn why the maid had followed them, and learn the truth about what she had been doing in Mariam’s chamber last night.

  An image from her dream came back to her. In her mind’s eye she saw herself tied to a pyre with flames at her feet. If Thea wanted revenge against Mariam for all the bad things she had ever done to her, all she had to do was spread word about what she had seen this morning and someone would surely come after Mariam, calling her a witch.

  Then she would be at her father’s mercy once more.

  Cameron must have sensed Mariam’s distress. He scowled as his gaze ran over her. “What troubles you now?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “We must talk about it if I am to see you are safe. But I can’t protect you if you do not tell me what or who I should be protecting you from.”

  She looked back to where Thea had been. She was gone. The stiffness in Mariam’s shoulders eased. She would have to tell Cameron something or he would keep after her until he extracted the truth. “If you must know, I am still upset about the dreams I have been having.”

  Relief showed on Cameron’s face. “You have nothing to worry about. They were only dreams, Mariam.” Cameron gave her a soft smile as they approached the drawbridge. “Besides, you are safe behind these castle walls.”

  “I hope you are right.”

  The clatter of hooves on the wooden planks fractured the morning silence as they made their way into the outer bailey. “I’m right, you’ll see.”

  Chapter Five

  Thea entered the White Horn Tavern in the village just beyond the castle. Seeing her brother at a table with two other young men across the dark and smoky chamber, Thea ducked her head and hurried toward them. She sat in the open chair next to her brother. The three men regarded her with curiosity. “What brings ye here, sis?” Kendric asked.

  Thea straightened. “Ye told me tae report tae ye if somethin’ interestin’ happened.”

  The red-haired man on her brother’s left raised a brow. “What happened?”

  Thea shifted her gaze between the man who had spoken and the third younger man who offered her a friendly smile.

  “’Tis all right, Thea.” Kendric nodded toward to the younger man. “This is Jimmy, and on the other side is Niall. They want revenge against that Mariam Swinton as much as we do. John Swinton nae only sent our ma tae the flames, but Jimmy’s as well, and Niall’s sister tae the noose. We’re all lookin’ fer a way tae destroy that man. If we can do that through his daughter, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  When all eyes at the table were directed at her, Thea swallowed thickly. “Only one problem.”

  “What’s that?” Kendric asked, his voice sharp.

  Thea squirmed in her chair at the intensity of her brother’s gaze. “I . . . don’t think the girl is very important tae her da. I doubt he would even miss her if ye did somethin’ tae her.”

  Kendric’s eyes narrowed. “But the man is very proud of his name and his role in the witch trials. Through the girl we can tarnish his name and his reputation.”

  Niall frowned. “And how are we supposed tae do that? We’d have tae find a way tae accuse the girl of being a witch.”

  Jimmy laughed. “That would be rich—the witch pricker harboring a witch in his own house.”

  Thea clenched her fingers together. “It might nae be as impossible as ye think. Mariam Swinton might very well be a witch.”

  All three men gaped at her. “What makes ye say such a thing? Those are terrible words tae be throwin’ around these days,” Niall asked with a scowl. “’Twas Agnes Sampson that accused my ma of bein’ a witch, even though she wasn’t. Then Swinton tortured my ma ’til she admitted tae bein’ a witch just tae make him stop.”

  Jimmy’s eyes went wide. “Are ye sayin’ ye saw her doin’ the ’craft?”

  “Nae exactly. There was no conjurin’ or spells,” Thea replied. “But I saw something strange, something unexplainable. Milady was able tae call sheep tae her from afar without any words or motions. The whole flock simply ran tae her, as though they were eager fer their mother’s milk.”

  “We could hardly call her a witch fer that,” Niall said, contemplating the liquid in his tankard. “The last thing anyone needs, is tae bring a false claim on the laird’s ward. Cameron Sinclair is a powerful man, with a strong army, and is associated with a band of brothers who answer only tae the king. What chance do any of us have tae go against that fer the sake of one odd occurrence?”

  “Don’t dismiss her claim so easily.” A predatory smile flickered like guttering candlelight over her brother’s stubbled face as his gaze shifted between Niall and Jimmy. “Thea is one of Mariam Swinton’s lady’s maids.” He turned to Thea. “Since ye already have access tae the woman, it’s time fer ye tae get all the proof we need tae make such a claim stick. In the meanwhile, I have another idea tae get us, and all the villagers who have been hurt by Swinton, into the castle.” Kendric took a long sip of his ale. When he was done, he sat back with a satisfied smile. “Revenge will be swift and it will be sweet.”

  *

  The crisp morning air only intensified Cameron’s sense of unease as the sheep moved all of their own accord into the pen in the outer bailey. The entire return home, he kept wondering how Mariam had managed such a feat with so little effort. He would have called it magic if it wasn’t for the fact that her eyes had filled with surprise followed by fear the moment the animals started running at her. A fresh wave of unease moved through him at the memory.

  He forced his concentration back to the present just as Mariam dismounted and moved to close the sheep inside the pen. She’d completed her task, and with very little assistance from him. As she closed the latch, he studied her. Her red hair, carefully tied back from her face, was of a fine thickness and fell nearly to her waist. The blue riding habit she wore accentuated her full breasts before skimming the lines of a slim, strong body. Her lips were well formed, and her other features had a pleasant symmetry. Her skin was not the pale alabaster lauded by troubadours, but a delicate ivory with golden tones lumin
ous in the morning light. He’d never noticed her loveliness in such a way before. Had his absence opened his eyes to the woman she truly was instead of simply seeing her as ‘his ward’?

  Mariam must have sensed him assessing her, because she turned toward him and met his glance. Fear flashed through her eyes for a heartbeat before defiance took its place. Cameron could feel her tension reach out to him across the distance that separated them.

  “Why are you staring at me?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I’m simply taking in the scenery.”

  She stiffened. “This task is done. Don’t you have other tasks to attend to this day?”

  “There is nothing urgent that needs my attention.” As he strode toward her, her discomfort increased. “I would very much like to spend the day with you, if you are free to do so.”

  “The sheep—”

  “Will be tended by those who will shear them.” He stopped before her and gave her his most sincere smile. “You’ve done your part, as you promised.”

  “Why?” she asked, perplexed. “I’ve been under your care for a year now and you’ve never wanted to spend more time than was necessary with me.”

  “I am sorry for that. Allow me to make amends to you now?”

  She relaxed as she continued to look up at him with wonder. “What would you have us do? More cleaning? Or do the cattle need to come in from pasture as well?”

  “Nothing like that. I know so little about you. I would like to talk as we take a turn through the garden.”

  She gave him a weak smile. “If it keeps you from staring at me, then aye.”

  But he continued to stare at her, trying to figure out why she looked so much more radiant in the late morning light.

  At the realization that his gaze was still upon her, she stiffened once more. “Is there something about me that displeases you? Am I covered in dust?” She ran her hands down the front of her riding habit as though brushing dirt from the fabric.

  “There is a twig in your hair,” he said by way of an explanation. It wasn’t why he stared but it would at least comfort her. He reached out and plucked a small twig from her locks before lightly touching her temple.

  She stepped back and glanced away. “Shall we head to the garden?”

  He offered her his arm and waited until she slipped her hand through before proceeding into the inner bailey and the north side of the castle to the formal garden there. He had never truly appreciated the fact that such a place existed at Ravenscraig Castle until this moment.

  The day was fully upon them now, leaving the sky a clear blue. The air was sweet, and yet spiced with the tang of the sea beyond the castle walls. Mariam walked beside him, her cheeks rosy from their morning endeavors.

  “The bees seem very busy this morning,” Mariam said, breaking the silence that had settled between them. She watched the industrious insects as they flitted from clover to flower and back again.

  “So many things happen all around us, if we only take the time to stop and notice,” Cameron said.

  “It’s nice to have that time now.”

  Mariam flashed him a smile that went straight to his gut. He wished she wouldn’t smile like that because it made her all the more appealing. As a guardian, it was Cameron’s responsibility to take care of Mariam’s day-to-day needs, to educate her, provide her with servants, and care for her financial assets had she had any, and if of marriageable age, it was his duty to see marriage arrangements were made that were as beneficial to her as possible.

  Nowhere in his responsibilities was he ever to think of her as his own. Granted, sometimes, wards and guardians did marry if the age gap was not too great an obstacle. But Cameron had other responsibilities—to his people and to his king. It was not wise for him to want anything more from this arrangement. Protecting Mariam from harm was his first priority, then came king and country, not his own selfish desires.

  Cameron rolled his neck to release the sudden tension in his muscles as the two of them strayed from the gravel path onto the grass, their every step releasing the grass’s fresh perfume. He tried to dispel the image of Mariam as she had looked this morning as they’d ridden across the fields. Her cheeks had been flushed with pleasure and her hair had fluttered about her face. Only in his mind her pleasure was sexual and the heat rising from her throat was brought there by his touch. It was his hands that had loosened her hair, and his mouth that had brought color to her lips.

  By the heavens! He frowned down at the ground, trying to find a way to rationalize his feelings for her. The answer was simple. His constant warring and service to the king had not left him much time for female companionship over the last several years, but even so he would never take advantage of a woman under his protection.

  Cameron shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He couldn’t afford this kind of distraction much longer. Alexander was right. It was best to marry the girl off and place her in someone else’s care no matter his own feelings for her. And there was no better time than the present to begin that discussion because the men he and Alexander had discussed had already been invited to the castle to vie for Mariam’s hand. They were already on their way. There was nothing he could do now to stop what he himself had started.

  With his fingers, Cameron raked his hair back from his face. “Mariam, we will be receiving two visitors this afternoon.”

  “More men from your sailing ships?” she asked with hesitation.

  “Nay, two gentlemen whom I’d like you to consider as potential husbands.”

  “Husbands?” she choked.

  “Aye. Two men of good reputation who are in need of a bride. Peter Mason is the heir to his father’s estate in North Berwick, and Laird David Sibbald of Balgonie Castle in Fife has two young children from a previous marriage.”

  “Why?” Panic filled her eyes. “You promised not to send me away.”

  “The situation has changed,” he ground out. “I must focus my energies on the king and his enemies, and I cannot do that if I am to protect you as well.” He turned his gaze from hers but he could hear her breathing, the slight draw and exhalation—light and measured—as though she were consciously regulating not only her breath, but also her emotions.

  “I cannot, I will not marry. Not now, not ever.” The words were part plea, part sob. And just as they left her lips, a thin wind began to whine around their feet. It gathered force until it suddenly swirled about them, sending tree leaves and delicate blossoms to dance in the air. It was an eerie, chill wind that brought no new air with it.

  Cameron’s gaze flew to Mariam’s face. Her expression was haunted. At the look, an icy shiver crept down his spine. What was happening? So many strange occurrences had been happening as of late. All of them had happened when Mariam was near. And emotional as she was now.

  Could there be a connection? He narrowed his gaze. She stood perfectly still with her arms wrapped around her waist. The color in her cheeks had drained. She shuddered and closed her eyes as though forcing herself to relax.

  As suddenly as it had come, the wind stopped.

  “What folly is this?” Cameron asked, reaching for Mariam’s arms.

  Her eyes flicked open. Fear once again shone in their depths. She stepped away from his touch. “Stay back. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “How could you possibly hurt me?” He felt the weight of his sword at his side. The weapon had protected him from many dangers. But this was different. The challenge he faced with her was not one that demanded brute force to resolve. Nay, if he wanted her to talk to him, he had to show understanding.

  Her body shook as though she were locked in her own personal torment, fighting demons that no one else could see. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

  “I cannot know anything until you talk to me.” He stood before her, searching her features, willing her to tell him the truth. “What is it? What is different about you since my return? No more lies. It’s just you and me here in the garden.”

  “
Please . . . don’t force me to marry . . . to go away.” The words were wrenched from her with an effort. “I must stay . . . to figure out where my destiny lies.”

  He should take a step back, and put some distance between them until he could evaluate the situation and respond as any other man who might be her guardian would. But he found he could not. Some aspect of her character strangely pulled him toward her no matter how hard he tried to turn away. “What do you mean, your destiny?”

  *

  Mariam held Cameron’s gaze. In the midst of chaos and fear, he was a point of calm. As she stared at him, she experienced an unexpected and confusing longing for something she could not name, but sensed it had something to do with no longer denying the truth. Something was happening to her. She was changing. Cameron clearly sensed it, and perhaps neither of them could deny it any longer. She would be a coward if she didn’t tell him what she suspected was happening to her. She had nothing to lose even if he didn’t accept what she said. He was about to send her away. There was no greater risk than that.

  She drew a deep breath as she lifted her face to the sun, letting the warming rays give her the strength she needed. Then she took Cameron’s hands in her own and focused on whatever it was inside her that she’d been fighting for so long. She closed her eyes and looked inward, deep into her own essence, searching—searching for a long-buried secret. But was that secret good or bad?

  Gradually, something inside her stirred. Haltingly at first, then with increasing strength and warmth. It coursed through her veins. Pumped through her heart. Engulfed her soul, until warmth filled her entire being.

  She opened her eyes.

  Cameron watched her closely, but there was no fear in his eyes, only questions. “Your skin . . . it is more luminous than ever.”