“A word, if you will.” Eoin waited until Edward nodded before continuing. “You knew my mother. You and she were a great deal alike, both wishing for lives dedicated to the Church, neither expecting the duty of having a family to be thrust upon you. My mother carried out her duties to our clan and to Ewan and me, but everyone knew she would have preferred to spend her days in prayer. She wasn’t warm to either me or Ewan once we grew old enough to train with our father. Ewan and I grew up assuming she didn’t love us, and that we were just another duty to her. When she lay dying, she summoned my brother and me to her chamber, pointing us to stand on each side of the bed. She was too weak to do more than lift her hands off the bed, but we understood she wanted to hold ours.”
Eoin paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. He remembered watching his mother wither away over the course of several months, along with his frustration that there was nothing anyone could do to cure her. He recalled that last day when she sent a servant to fetch him and Ewan.
“Her last words in this life were ‘I love you, my sons. I always have.’” Eoin swallowed again, looking away from Edward as he tried to maintain his composure. “She died a moment after she spoke them. They were the only time in our lives that we ever heard our mother say she loved us. Ewan and I often thought she resented becoming a mother, regretted ever having us. We never imagined she cared aboot us, let alone loved us. We’d grown up to believe we were merely one of her duties. She wasn’t a bad mother. On the contrary, she raised us to be educated men with a deep faith and a love of God’s creation. She just never felt like a mother once we were old enough to remember. I’m telling you this because Cairstine feels the same way aboot you as I did my mother. She feels like a weight around your neck, and she doesn’t know that you love her. But I’ve seen how you react, and I suspect it’s out of love and not duty. Don’t wait like my mother did. Let her know while there is still time.”
Eoin sighed as Edward stood speechless. He nodded and left the solar in search of Cairstine, praying Edward took his words to heart.
* * *
Davina ordered that a bath and a tray overflowing with food be sent to Cairstine’s chamber. Cairstine stood in uncomfortable silence beside Eoin as servants filled the bath and laid out the food. When they left, she didn’t know where to look, but Eoin’s movement caught her eye. He walked across the chamber and picked up the folded screen that leaned against her armoire. He set it up between the bed and the tub, then he pulled the bed curtains closed. He slipped between the curtains on the side closer to the door after resting his sword against the wall. His booted feet were all that stuck out.
“I’ll remain here while you bathe, Cairstine. Rouse me if I fall asleep,” Eoin’s muffled voice reached Cairstine. She stood staring at him for a long moment before springing into action. She unfastened her belt and pulled off her arisaid but groaned when she recalled she wore a kirtle that laced in the back. She’d had a maid assist her that morning, and now she needed someone to help her with the ties. “You’re not in the bath yet, Cairrie.”
“I can’t get out of my gown. I need help, please.” Cairstine went to stand beside Eoin and drew back a curtain before turning her back to him. She sensed he rushed to pull the laces loose, not because he was eager to catch a glimpse of her as she undressed but so he could return to hiding. When she was certain Eoin couldn’t see her, she stripped down and stepped into the tub. “I’ll hurry so there will be hot water left for you,” she offered.
When Eoin didn’t answer, she slid beneath the surface. She hurried to finish washing her hair and scrubbed herself until her skin was rosy. She had no idea what to expect of the night to come. It had horrified her when Fingal asked about the bedding ceremony, but she should have trusted Eoin would never allow it, even if they’d wed for real. When she finished bathing and dressed, she moved the screen to separate the tub from the table and stool where she would sit to comb and dry her hair.
“Eoin? The bath is available,” Cairstine despised the tremble in her voice. She set her shoulders back and straightened her spine, willing herself to have more courage as Eoin emerged from the bed. He glanced at her, but he seemed to barely take note of her chemise or the plaid wrapped around her shoulders. He nodded and waited until she ducked around the screen.
It had been torture hearing Cairstine splash around in the tub, knowing she was naked on the other side of the curtains and screen, but there was nothing he could do but hide. His cock ached as he crushed the wool of his plaid in his hands, willing his arousal to subside, but every sound coming from Cairstine made his bollocks ache more. When it was his turn to bathe, he tore off his clothes and rushed to clean himself before taking himself in hand. It took little effort to continue picturing Cairstine naked in the bath, and he finished in such record time that it would have embarrassed him had he not needed to hurry. Eoin had packed three plaids and four leines for the journey, the two spare plaids for when he slept outside. One was scorched with holes in it from the fire and the other dirty from his roll in the dirt with Fingal. He was grateful he’d packed so many, and he still had a fresh leine. When he was dressed once again, he went to the passageway and summoned servants to carry away the tub. He returned the screen to its place just as the servants arrived. He turned his back to the women who fluttered their eyelashes at him, disgusted that they would attempt to flirt with him on what was supposed to be his wedding night and within their mistress’s chamber.
Cairstine noticed the disdain on Eoin’s face when the maids tried to catch his attention. It relieved her to notice that he took no interest. She feared he would take note of the pretty ones, his courtly reputation fresh in her mind. She knew she wasn’t his wife in truth, but the thought that he would dally with one of them caused her heart to hurt. She caught him watching her, and she flushed. When they were alone, Eoin pulled a chair out for Cairstine and waited for her to sit before he joined her at the table that servants brought in to hold their repast. He thought to reassure her. “I would never humiliate you like that, Cairrie.”
“Like what?” Cairstine was baffled.
“I would never stray from you if we married. I would never stray from any wife. And I will not tup any of the serving women while I’m here.”
“I would understand if you did,” Cairstine shrugged carelessly, but she gulped when Eoin’s hand slammed on the table.
“Let me clear aboot something, Cairstine. Whatever happens between us, in everyone else’s eyes we’re more than just betrothed, we’re married. That means there are no other women. There haven’t been since before we left Stirling, and there won’t be for a year and a day if that’s how long this handfast lasts. I will not dishonor either of us, nor will I play you for a fool in front of your people.”
“Yes, Eoin.” Cairstine nodded as she bit her top lip. She feared she’d soured the mood between them, but she desperately wanted to know if he was serious that he would remain celibate for an entire year if need be.
Eoin intuited the questions she left unspoken. “I told you, Cairrie. If I wanted to couple with a woman that badly, I would have done so as soon as I returned home.” Eoin didn’t look up from the chicken leg he pulled apart.
“But a year is a long time,” Cairstine protested.
“It is, but I’ve lived to see seven-and-twenty. In the story of my life, one year isn’t that long.”
“It is for a mon in his prime,” Cairstine countered.
Eoin put down the chicken leg and looked at Cairstine, reminding himself that she’d only known him for his reputation before they left court, and she’d only been familiar with other men at Stirling Castle who wished to seduce her. He understood her naivety and even appreciated her misguided concern.
“I don’t have to rut to survive, Cairrie. I may enjoy coupling, but there is more to me than that.”
Cairstine’s eyes widened when she realized how insulting her words had come across. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Eo. I didn’t mean to be rude or to disparage you.”
>
“I know you didn’t. That’s why I’m not upset. I just want to be clear that I agreed to pose as your betrothed because I want to help you, to protect you. I’m not aboot to turn around and shame you in front of your clan.”
“I—I didn’t think you would. I assumed you’d be discreet.”
Eoin stared at her before leaning back and laughing. He laughed so hard that tears leaked from the corner of his eyes. He wiped them away before leaning forward to take Cairstine’s hand. “Mo leannan, there is no way for a new groom to dally with another woman and be discreet. Certainly not a mon who is a neighboring laird’s son and the husband of the resident laird’s daughter. There are few serving women who wouldn’t crow aboot that accomplishment, especially since you’re so beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” Cairstine’s brow furrowed. “What do my looks matter?”
Eoin closed his eyes and shook his head. “Think aboot it. If you were at court, and the serving women were other ladies-in-waiting, what would they boast aboot?”
Cairstine’s drew in a deep breath as understanding dawned on her. “They would boast that they’d lured you out of even a beautiful woman’s bed. They’d take extra pride in that. It wouldn’t be enough that they enticed the handsomest mon in the keep, who also is a laird’s son. They would be mighty chuffed to think they took you from me.”
“Exactly. And handsomest? Thank you, my lady,” Eoin grinned, and they resumed eating. They kept to neutral topics like their favorite items laid before them, and food they preferred or disliked. When they finished, Eoin once again summoned people to clear away the remnants of their meal. Cairstine stood near the bed while Eoin held the door open while the servants traipsed in and out, practically slamming it on the heels of a maid whose eyes lingered overly long on Eoin. Cairstine watched Eoin as he moved toward the fire, throwing an extra brick of peat on it. She grew perplexed when Eoin pulled the extra material from his plaid over his shoulders and head before lowering himself to the floor. He turned his back to her and laid down on his side. “Goodnight, Cairrie.”
“Goodnight?” Cairstine croaked before she cleared her throat. “You can’t sleep on the floor like that.”
“I’ve slept harder and colder places, Cairrie. I’m fine.” Eoin kept his back to her.
“But it’s not right,” Cairstine protested. She looked around, but short of offering to share her bed, she wasn’t sure what to do.
“Cairstine, go to bed. It’s been a long day, and you’d do well to rest before you miss your chance to get enough sleep. Matins will come all too soon.”
“Matins?” Cairstine parroted. “Mama said no one would expect us to appear until at least Terce, but most probably Sext or None.” Eoin rolled over and looked at her.
“Your mother expects us to remain secluded in a bedchamber for most of the day?”
Cairstine shifted uncomfortably and winced before nodding. “She said that’s what’s expected of any newly-wedded couple.”
“When have you ever done aught that’s expected?” Eoin grumbled. “Go to bed, Cairrie.”
Cairstine watched as he turned his back to her once again. She rushed to the side of the bed where he’d sat before. She pulled the pillows off the bed and grabbed an extra Grant plaid from the foot of the bed. She offered the pillows to Eoin as she covered him with her clan’s plaid. She stilled as she took in the sight of a man wearing her plaid. Something felt so right about seeing Eoin covered with it. It wasn’t so much that it was the Grant pattern, but because it was hers. Her heart ached as she wished yet again that the charade they were perpetrating could be real rather than make-believe. She went back to the bedside where his sword rested and tried to lift it. The beastly weapon was nearly as long as she was tall and weighed nearly as much as her. She stumbled, and the tip dragged along the floor. Eoin sprang to his feet, hand on his dagger until he realized what Cairstine was trying to do.
He reached out and took the sword from her, as she looked sheepishly at him. He tilted her chin up, pressing a quick kiss, one that was done all too soon, to her lips. “Thank you.”
Cairstine nodded before she climbed into bed and drew the curtains closed. She heard Eoin rest the sword against what she assumed was the hearth before he settled back on the floor. She listened to his steady breathing, and it lulled her into slumber.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eoin’s eyes fluttered open as he came awake to the sound of someone moving. For a second time in a row, he awoke disoriented, but he soon remembered he was in Cairstine’s room. And it was Cairstine shifting restlessly on her bed that forced him awake. He glanced toward the window, and the sky was still a deep blue, but the stars had disappeared. He lay still, listening as she mumbled in her sleep. Her disturbed slumber reminded him of the nightmares she had while they traveled to Freuchie. He waited to see if she would settle, but when he heard her call his name, panic lacing her voice, he bolted to her side. He ripped the bed curtains open as Cairstine sat up, her eyes glazed and unseeing.
“Cairrie,” Eoin shook her shoulder and roused her from her daze, but she turned fearful, unseeing eyes toward him. “I’m here, leannan. Shh.” Eoin perched on the edge of the bed as Cairstine sank into his embrace. She shuddered twice then quieted, making Eoin wonder if she’d fallen back to sleep. When he attempted to lay her back against the pillows, she clutched his leine.
“Don’t go,” she mumbled. “So scared.”
Eoin glanced to the hearth where he’d been sleeping, then back to Cairstine, who once again trembled. “Scoot over, lass.” Cairstine obliged and made room for Eoin, but when he laid on top of the covers, she twisted to look over her shoulder. “You’ll freeze.”
“I’ll be fine. Cairrie, go back to sleep.”
“But—”
“Cairstine, if you wish for me to keep my promise not to touch you, then leave be. It’s better this way.”
Cairstine looked at him for a long moment before nodding. She turned back but squirmed her way closer to Eoin, absorbing his heat and falling back into a deep and peaceful sleep. Eoin laid still until Cairstine’s even breathing assured him she had returned to the land of Nod. He drew her closer as he wrapped his arm over her trim waist. Roses and lemons were the last thing he remembered until light and a warm, womanly body woke him.
* * *
Cairstine was cozier than she ever remembered being as she yawned. She blinked her eyes open and discovered a male chest was a hairsbreadth from her nose. Blond hair peaked from beneath the loosened ties, and a deep rumble came from the sleeping giant beside her. It wasn’t a snore, so much as deep, even breathing. Cairstine found herself tucked beneath Eoin’s chin, his arm resting heavily across her. She dared not move lest she wake him and end the moment. She closed her eyes once more and drifted back to sleep.
Eoin kept still, maintaining the same breathing pattern he had when he woke to Cairstine curled beside him like a tiny kitten. He’d felt her breath on his chest, waiting for her to push him away, accusing him of taking advantage of her. But she sighed and continued to slumber. Eoin also discovered he was trapped. His left arm lay beneath Cairstine’s neck, and his right arm draped across Cairstine’s waist with hers on top of his. Unwilling to disturb her after her fitful sleep, he closed his own eyes. He intended to rest, but he was too comfortable to fight the tug toward the land of peace and dreams.
It was midmorning and sunlight filled the bedchamber as Cairstine stretched and slammed her head into the underside of Eoin’s chin. He grumbled and rolled away, but drew Cairstine with him. She found herself tucked against Eoin’s side, the arm she’d flung across Eoin’s waist while sleeping now rested on his chest. She felt his thumb sweeping over her shoulder, signaling he was awake too. Neither was inclined to ruin the moment, but a knock on the door did it for them. Eoin grumbled again, disentangling himself from Cairstine and sliding off the bed. He looked at Cairstine, cocking an eyebrow before he whipped his leine over his head and flung it on the floor. He rearranged his plai
d so it sat low on his hips.
Cairstine’s eyes followed every movement, every ripple and bunch of muscle as Eoin moved. She nodded absentmindedly, understanding Eoin’s actions. He moved to the door but glanced back at Cairstine to ensure she was presentable. Her sleep mussed hair made his already aching cock strain beneath his plaid. He drew in a deep breath and opened the door a crack. He was less than pleased to see Davina and a troop of servants outside the door.
“It’s midday, and you haven’t called for any food. I confess I grew concerned,” Davina admitted as she attempted to peer around Eoin’s broad shoulders to catch a glimpse of Cairstine. “I thought you might be hungry and that—ah—Cairstine might appreciate a warm bath.”
Eoin understood what Davina implied, and he had a moment of trepidation because he hadn’t considered Davina might come for the bedsheet. He backed away from the door, allowing Davina to enter, but he turned his back as maids once again entered with a tub and steaming buckets of water. Davina went to Cairstine’s bedside, and Eoin caught her eyes sweeping over the rumpled bedding, but she registered no surprise that there wasn’t a streak to prove they’d consummated the handfast. Cairstine noticed her mother looking at the bedding, and her eyes widened as she darted her gaze to Eoin. He flexed his hand by this thigh, giving her a staying gesture.
Eoin feared Davina questioning Cairstine while listening ears and lips ready to spread gossip filled the chamber. When Eoin approached, Cairstine pulled the covers up as she slid from the bed. She felt the blood slide from her face as she noticed the pillows and plaid laying before the fire. Eoin knew what she saw because he’d thought of it too late. The scene looked incriminating for a couple who were supposedly celebrating their wedding night. As if the pillows and plaid before the hearth weren’t bad enough, it was a Grant plaid that laid on the floor. Eoin feared Davina and the servants would assume he’d made Cairstine sleep on the floor while he took the bed.
A Rake at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Four Page 19
