A Rake at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Four

by Barclay, Celeste

  Eoin spotted Cairstine glancing over her shoulder, a soft smile playing on her lips as she recognized him. He regretted oversleeping because the only seat available on the laird’s pew was next to Fingal, who glared at Eoin. They’d been introduced while working in the village, and Fingal took an immediate dislike to Eoin. It was clear to Eoin that Fingal viewed him as an interloper, stealing what Fingal believed was his. He’d been on time to Prime, having gone to the stables to check on Gun Eagal, but he was forced once again to sit beside Fingal. Edward ensured that Eoin had no chance to sit near Cairstine, but as they sat to break their fast, Eoin cast Davina a grateful smile for arranging their seating and placing Eoin beside Cairstine. His hand brushed Cairstine’s leg, patting her thigh before returning to the table. He sensed that she relaxed, even though Eoin directed his attention toward Bram, who sat on the dais with the laird’s other chief warriors.

  “You’re welcome to join us in the lists,” Cairstine heard Bram invite Eoin to train with the other Grants. She heard him Eoin’s response, as well.

  “I appreciate that. Let me ask Lady Cairstine what her plans are for the morn, and then I will decide.”

  It surprised Cairstine to hear Eoin defer to her without hesitation. To her ears, it sounded genuine rather than words Eoin believed others expected him to say. Eoin turned his head toward Cairstine, but Fingal spoke before he could. “You’re going to let a woman lead you by the bollocks rather than train like a mon?” Fingal taunted.

  Eoin lifted Cairstine’s hand to his lips, keeping his eyes on her, before resting their joined hands on the table. “Cairrie may lead me wherever she’d like, and I will happily follow.” As their eyes met, Cairstine realized that Eoin’s words were true. His actions were no facade, and her heart beat a staccato rhythm behind her ribs. She smiled but leaned around Eoin to cast a disgusted look at Fingal, who continued to mutter rude comments. When she sat back, she squeezed Eoin’s hand.

  “Go to the lists, Eo. Mother and Fenella asked me to join them in the solar. There’s a market today in the village. I will meet you for the noon meal, and we can visit the stalls.” Cairstine’s soft smile made Eoin wish they could have these conversations every morning for the rest of their lives. He sighed and returned her smile as he nodded.

  * * *

  “Why does he call you Cairrie?” Fenella asked as she settled on her stool, her embroidery needle and thread in hand as she continued to sew her wedding gown. They had set no date for her wedding, but Fenella continued to work on her gown, hoping Edward would agree to her marrying Kennon sooner rather than later.

  Cairstine shrugged, but she couldn’t hide her smile. “I don’t know. He’s called me that since we left Stirling, and it’s just become a habit, I suppose.”

  “Like how you call him Eo?” Fenella pressed. Cairstine nodded, but Fenella wasn’t through. “Did you notice you both did that this morn at the table?”

  Cairstine’s head jerked up. She hadn’t realized that they’d used their pet names for one another in public. Her cheeks radiated heat, only made worse when her mother quietly chuckled from where she sat weaving near the window. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “I feared Fingal would expire at the table. His face was a shade of red it hasn’t been since we were children and you knocked him down in front of his friends.”

  “Fingal only cares that Eoin is here because he fears he won’t marry the laird’s daughter,” Cairstine huffed. “It has naught to do with me and everything to do with him wanting to insure his inheritance.”

  “Aye, and since Eoin isn’t a laird or a laird’s heir, Fingal feels threatened,” Fenella surmised.

  “Eoin will never leave Gordon land or Ewan’s side. They’re inseparable and always will be. Eoin is Ewan’s second. It would devastate them both if he moved away,” Cairstine spoke as she threaded her needle, preparing to embroider the cuff of a sleeve to Fenella’s gown. She’d completed the other one before Eoin arrived.

  “Does that mean you’re ready to move to Huntly?” Davina asked casually.

  Cairstine bit the inside of her cheek as she nodded. She was prepared to leave Freuchie, but she’d never given serious thought to living at Huntly. It would never happen since their betrothal would end, and he would return home while she ended up somewhere else. She kept her eyes down as though she focused on her stitching, and Fenella moved the conversation in a different direction, but Cairstine sensed her mother watched her throughout the morning. Cairstine feared Davina would deduce Eoin’s attention was a ruse. Even worse, she might realize that Cairstine was falling in love with a manmon she would never marry.

  When it was nearly time for the noon meal, Cairstine sat up, stretching her aching back. She hurried to put her sewing away, so she could make her way to the kitchens. She’d decided to surprise Eoin and attempt to avoid more uncomfortable conversations at the table.

  * * *

  Eoin swung the dulled sword as he used his targe to block Fingal’s attack. He’d begun his morning sparring with Bram, who attested to Eoin’s prowess, having seen Eoin train at Stirling Castle. He moved on to Edward as other warriors elbowed and teased him about earning Cairstine’s hand if he survived. Edward’s reputation preceded him, and he proved to Eoin that it was well earned. The man was fiercely competitive, but he was both nimble and astute. Edward studied Eoin and predicted his next strike, blocking it and pushing Eoin back each time. Eoin hadn’t wanted to be on the offensive. Attacking Cairstine’s father, even if only in simulation, felt wrong. But Edward left him little choice when he refused to make the first move. The Grant warriors goaded Eoin, Fingal calling out the loudest, that Eoin was too scared to fight. In the end, they came to a stalemate when their swords locked, and neither was prepared to yield.

  Fingal fought dirty, using every tactic at his disposal to embarrass Eoin, but this was hardly Eoin’s first fight. When Fingal attempted to kick dirt into Eoin’s face, Eoin kicked him in the shin. When Fingal attempted to swipe Eoin’s legs out from under him, Eoin bashed his targe into Fingal’s knee. When Fingal spewed curses at him, hoping to anger him, Eoin laughed. They’d been going around in circles for nearly half an hour, evenly matched in skill and strength, but while Fingal was red-faced and panting, Eoin remained collected and breathing easily.

  Movement at the corner of his eye distracted him when he recognized Cairstine. The flat side of Fingal’s blade smacked against Eoin’s ribs, and Eoin saw Cairstine’s eyes widen even from a distance, but it was almost too late when he realized that it wasn’t Fingal’s last strike that caused her expression. Fingal dropped his sword and targe, launching himself at Eoin. The men collided, landing on the ground in a cloud of dust as they rolled around. Eoin had expected their sparring to devolve into a fistfight, but he’d lost his focus when he’d spotted Cairstine. Now he pulled his legs up beneath Fingal in an attempt to thrust him away, but Fingal rolled back, landing a punch to Eoin’s shoulder. Once again, Eoin pushed Fingal away and made to scramble to his feet, but Fingal grabbed hold of Eoin’s belt and pulled him backwards. Eoin defended himself by avoiding Fingal’s punches, not wanting to land any of his own, but Fingal pushed Eoin too far when he taunted him about Cairstine.

  “She’ll lead you around like a lovesick cow, but she’ll leave your bollocks bluer than the midday sky.” Fingal taunted Eoin once again. “She’s naught but a tease.”

  Eoin rose to his feet when Fingal stood up. They locked shoulders as they tried to push against one another. Fingal tried to land an uppercut to Eoin’s face, but Eoin squeezed Fingal’s wrist until he felt something pop. The men broke apart only to come back swinging at one another.

  “I’d never pictured Cairstine as a slut until I saw her with you. Has she given away all her favors, or did she save some for your brother?” Fingal’s barbs were loud enough this time for the men and Cairstine, who’d stopped at the edge of the lists, to hear. Eoin growled and finally went on the offensive. He rained down one blow after another until Fingal lay in an
unconscious heap at his feet.

  “Are you all right?” Cairstine asked, as she hurried to Eoin’s side. She barely spared a glance at Fingal, who groaned but remained unmoving.

  “I’m all right, Cairrie.” Eoin smiled, but his split lip made him wince. Cairstine carried a waterskin with her, which she handed to Eoin. When he finished drinking, she poured water onto her cuff and dabbed her sleeve against his lip, wiping away the trickle of blood. Eoin retrieved his training sword and targe, giving them back to the man in charge of the armory before strapping his battle sharp claymore to his back.

  “I packed us a picnic,” Cairstine explained as she retrieved the basket she’d been carrying. Eoin lifted it from her arm as she led him away from the lists and the men teasing Fingal, who came round after someone dumped water on his head. They made their way to the postern gate and left the bailey. A loch lay to the right, and the village was directly ahead of them. Eoin could see the market Cairstine had mentioned that morning. He assumed they would find a table amongst the stalls where they could eat, but Cairstine led them toward the loch. Eoin looked over her head to the far side of the village where he could see the treeline. He realized it was amongst those trees that men attacked Cairstine. Eoin nearly stumbled when she seemed to read his mind. “I can still go into the woods here, just not that spot. I hunt with Fingal and Bram, and I collect medicinals with Mother and Fenella. I’m just careful never to go there.”

  Cairstine didn’t look at Eoin or toward the woods, instead guiding them to a meadow beside the loch. The bluebells and heather made the expanse appear more like a sea of rippling waves than grasslands. Cairstine led Eoin to a spot of flattened grass. It appeared as if little had grown there in years.

  “An auld woman once had a croft here. They say she had the gift of second sight. Whether she chose to live out here by herself or they shunned her into living apart, I don’t know. But the croft fell down when I was still young, and we have built nothing here since. The grass doesn’t grow, and some say it’s Ailis’s spirit that keeps it that way, ensuring we never forget her.” Cairstine shrugged as she spread the blanket she brought. She liked the spot because she could see for miles around but still have a space where few noticed her.

  Eoin took Cairstine’s hands before she began unpacking the food. He squeezed them, running his thumb over the backs of them. “Thank you for this, Cairrie. This was thoughtful, and I appreciate the effort. It’s probably for the best that I’m not in the Great Hall taking the noon meal.”

  “I never dreamed Fingal would attack you, but I should have known he wouldn’t let it rest,” Cairstine said bitterly. “He’s surely convinced you are trying to usurp his inheritance.”

  “But you know I’m not, don’t you?” Eoin asked doubtfully.

  “Of course, you’re not. You’ll never leave Gordon land or abandon your duties as Ewan’s second. How anyone can forget that is beyond me.”

  Because there is much a mon would give up for the woman he loves. Perhaps there is much I should consider giving up. Eoin remained quiet even as his mind spun in circles. Mayhap Ewan was right that a family of my own with a woman I don’t love isn’t as important as being with the woman I love. Perhaps a family of two is all that I need.

  Cairstine watched Eoin, unable to tell what he was thinking, but certain he was lost in thought. When she made to pull her hands away, his attention snapped back to her. He gazed down at her, and she waited for him to speak.

  “I need you to know that I will abide by your wishes, Cairrie. I overstepped this morning when I held your hand in front of everyone. I let Fingal annoy me and neglected my promise to you.”

  “You did not. You promised to be a doting suitor, and that’s what you were. Fingal’s being an arse, and I’m sorry for that.” Cairstine raised a tentative hand, her thumb feathering over the bruise that was emerging on Eoin’s cheek. He turned his head, so his cheek rested against her palm. They stood staring at one another, temptation and desire flaring between them. They swayed toward each other, but the caw-caw of a crow broke the spell. They smiled sheepishly before sitting on the blanket.

  While they ate, Cairstine told Eoin stories about her childhood antics with Fenella and Fingal. The way she described her relationship with Fingal, it sounded like they were more like siblings than anything else. Between what Eoin witnessed of Fingal’s attitude and what Cairstine told him about growing up with Fingal, he understood why she would never agree to marry him. Eoin didn’t believe the man was all bad, but he understood that Fingal felt threatened by his presence. He resolved to speak to Fingal before the animosity grew between them. One day Fingal would be Laird Grant, and Ewan would be Laird Gordon. Eoin didn’t want to cause a feud his brother would be forced to fight.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  When they finished eating they repacked the basket, and Cairstine showed Eoin the market. They remained away from the keep until the evening meal, and Cairstine and Eoin sensed the tension when they entered the Great Hall. Eoin assumed it was because they’d missed the Sext and None Masses, but as they approached, the mood seemed more intense than a few missed church services warranted.

  “My solar. Now,” Edward barked. Cairstine and Eoin exchanged a glance as they followed her father. Davina, Fenella, Fingal, and Bram accompanied them. When Bram closed the door behind them, Edward whirled around and stormed over to Eoin. “Where the devil have you been with my daughter?”

  “We picnicked near—” Eoin looked down at Cairstine. “What was the old seer’s name? Ailis? Near where her home once stood. Then we walked aboot the market. Then we returned for the evening meal.”

  Cairstine tried to intervene. “I know we missed more than one Mass. I will say the rosary thrice as penance this eve.”

  Edward’s glare made Eoin push Cairstine behind him, just as he had when Edward accused her after the village fire. “You think this is aboot missing Mass?” Edward barked. “This is aboot you disappearing with the mon for hours upon hours with no escort. Gordon, you leave in the morning. There will be no betrothal.”

  Cairstine clung to Eoin’s leine. Her forehead rested against his back as she trembled. Everything she’d hope for was crumbling before her, and there was little she could do. Eoin’s mind raced to devise a solution, blurting out the first thing that he thought of.

  “There’s no need for a betrothal, and Cairstine leaves with me if I ride out. We handfasted,” Eoin announced. Cairstine froze while she caught her breath, then stepped around Eoin, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. “In a year and a day, if Cairstine chooses to remain my wife or if she hasn’t repudiated our handfast before then, we can discuss the dowry. Until then, I expect naught but Cairstine.”

  “Liar!” Fingal hissed. He pushed past Bram, who caught his arm and tugged him away from Eoin. “You did no such thing. You have no witnesses to prove it.”

  “Ahem,” Bram cleared his throat. “That’s nae true. I witnessed them together in the clearing. They held hands as they spoke.”

  Cairstine turned to look at Bram, but his eyes were fixed on Edward who glared at Eoin. Fingal fumed. “You’d lie for her without hesitation. You’re doing that right now,” Fingal accused.

  “Ye’re questioning ma honor?” Bram’s nostrils flared.

  “I saw them too, Father,” Fenella stepped forward. “I saw them walking toward the loch and thought to join them, but when they stopped and held hands. I didn’t want to interrupt, but I know what I saw, Father. They are committed to one another.”

  Cairstine watched her sister, who had never been an adept liar. The young woman appeared calm and confident as she wove her story around the truth. Between Bram and Fenella bearing witness, albeit falsely, there was little Edward could do to refute Eoin’s claim. Davina hugged Cairstine, then Eoin, who never removed his arm from around Cairstine’s shoulders. He would make his claim obvious: Cairstine was now under his protection, and heaven preserve anyone who thought to separate them.
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  “There isn’t time to arrange a feast this eve, but we will celebrate tomorrow,” Davina gushed. Cairstine shook her head, but Davina beamed. Davina winked at her, but it was so brief, Cairstine thought she imagined it. “In the meantime, since there will be no feast this eve, I’ll have a tray sent to your chamber where you may celebrate your wedding night in peace.”

  “Wedding night!” Edward and Fingal bellowed. Edward cast Fingal a quelling look, but said nothing more, appearing as if he struggled to remain silent.

  “Mama?” Fenella stepped toward Davina and whispered in her ear. Davina shook her head adamantly before glancing at Cairstine.

  “What is it, Davina?” Edward asked. Davina blanched, and Edward understood without a word passing between them. There was only one subject that made his wife react thusly. He nodded.

  “The clan will expect a bedding ceremony,” Fingal warned, a triumphant expression on his face.

  “Absolutely nae,” Eoin’s voice was quiet, but the burr in his steely voice dared anyone to defy him. “Nay one is seeing ma wife without a stitch of clothing on, and I amnae traipsing aboot in the altogether for anyone either. If they want to see a bedding, take them to the pasture to watch Twinkle and Fuamhaire. They arenae watching what goes on between me and ma wife.” Eoin’s hand rested on the dirk sheathed at his waist.

  “My daughters will never have a bedding ceremony,” Edward decreed, and the color noticeably returned to Davina’s face. “We’re holding up the evening meal.”

  As everyone filed out the door, Eoin nudged Cairstine to join her mother and sister, but turned to Edward once they were alone in the solar. He closed the door before speaking to the older man.