Merry Medieval Christmas
Page 19
"Where can I find a meal and a bed for the night?"
"The inn just down a bit," the old man said pointing. "Ye cannot miss it. The music and noise will guide ye."
As the man had described, the inn was noisy and quite busy. The villagers, it seemed enjoyed a good drink, lively music and company on cold nights. The din of the conversations over the music accompanied by clinking of tankards lifted his spirits and soon Faolan found himself sharing a table with another man who introduced himself as Ian Grant.
Ian who seemed to be about the same age of his eight and twenty studied Faolan constantly, his gaze full of curiosity at hearing about his quest. "Surely you cannot think that wishing upon that old well will bring the woman to you?" The man lifted his tankard and drank deeply before continuing. "Tis said it will bring true love, but I do not think it will always be the person of your choosing."
"She is the only woman I will ever love. I am sure of it." The words felt strangely hollow, but Faolan refused to allow the feeling to linger. "Have you wished upon it?"
"Nay," Ian said with a chuckle. "I have enough worries trying to keep my troublesome sister from mischief. The last thing I need is another woman to worry over. It may not exist, but a tale."
"The lass is a feisty one eh?"
"Quite so." Ian leaned back and scanned the tavern. "She's about somewhere in here. Is refusing to speak to me because I've decided to marry her off."
Faolan looked about the room searching for someone who favored his new friend. Ian was fair of skin with dark brown hair and light eyes. It was hard to tell in the dimness of the room, but probably a greenish hue.
Clapping commenced and two men assisted a lass onto a tabletop. The musicians began playing a happy tune. People cheered as the lass danced, her arms in the air and feet making quick work. With a riot of red hair and a bright smile, she turned in circles in time to the music.
Faolan could not help notice what a lovely creature she was, with full size breasts, small waist and angelic face.
Her bright smile faltered when Ian got to his feet. "She'll be the death of me." His new friend rushed to the table, plucked the lass from the tabletop and set her upon the floor. "Go home Catriona and see about that unruly mess of hair." The crowd booed at Ian, but he ignored them.
"I will not." She rushed to the table where Faolan sat and plopped down onto Ian's empty chair. With a pout, she lifted Ian's tankard and drank deeply.
"Catriona," Ian growled, then gave up, dragged another chair over and sat. "Why do you insist on being foolish?" Her brother took the tankard back while she gifted him with a broad smile.
"I love you brother mine, but you are much too serious." She had a melodious voice that matched her beauty perfectly. Instead of sitting upright and still as any lady should, she rocked side to side in time to the music. "I love this tune."
Ian looked to Faolan. "Do you see now why I cannot marry as of yet?"
"Aye," Faolan replied only to garner a glare from Catriona who just then seemed to notice him. Her face reddened and she blinked several times while studying him. "Who are you?"
"Catriona," Ian motioned to Faolan. "This is Faolan Mackinnon of Skye."
"Skye really?" She leaned forward inspecting him as if he were the most interesting thing. "Truly?"
"Aye." Faolan's throat became dry and his heart beat faster. "Have you been there?"
She shook her head slowly and then looked to Ian who studied them both. "Is this he?"
"What are you referring to sister?" Ian motioned for a tavern woman to come and refill their drinks. "I have no idea what you speak of."
The lass narrowed her eyes at Faolan. "It is you. I know it."
"Who do you think I am?"
"Fine continue to play this silly game." She huffed and got to her feet. Her gaze on Faolan, she lifted an eyebrow as if in challenge. "Do not expect me to be a wilted lolly who will do every one of your biddings."
"I would never expect that of you lass," Faolan said truthfully. He rather liked her nature and hoped no one would ever try to change her.
She turned to her brother. "Very well then. Bring him along. I'll do it."
Both he and Ian exchanged questioning looks then waited for Catriona to elaborate. Instead she laughed at something someone said to her and then clapped to get everyone's attention.
She climbed onto the chair and held her arms out as if welcoming the room. "Attention everyone. My lout of a brother has decided to marry me off." She waited for the hisses and boos to end before continuing. "Hence forth I will soon be married to Faolan Mackinnon, the Wolf of Skye." She motioned to him with much fanfare and the entire room focused on him with eager expressions. Obviously she'd used the Celtic meaning of his name to garner a reaction from the crowd.
Ian let out a groan and shrugged when Faolan looked to him for help.
The silence lingered until finally Faolan got to his feet and lifted a hand. The room erupted in cheers, and tankards were lifted in toasts. A group of men rushed him and lifted him onto their shoulders carrying him around the room as the music resumed.
When he was brought back to the table and dropped onto the chair, drinks were shoved into Faolan's hands and more than one man clapped him on the back calling him courageous.
Catriona watched with arms crossed and a triumphant look as an older man approached him. "Foolhardy if you ask me. No one would marry the lass; she's a good girl but much too strong-willed for her own good. If it were not for the announcement I'd advise you to run and get away as far as possible." The man shook his head and placed a bottle of whiskey on the table. "This may help."
The minx's lips trembled with barely controlled mirth as she eyed the whiskey. "Looks like ye're the townsmen's new hero. Will keep the single men from having to figure out how to tell my brother they will not marry me." She tossed her hair back off one shoulder and cocked her head to the side. "And those married are relieved not to have to worry about one of their sons being saddled with me." She leaned forward and peered intently at him. "A silent one are you?"
"Ladies and gents," the old man cried out and the room quieted. "Let us hear from the groom to be." The man motioned for Faolan to come to stand at the bar.
Faolan looked to Ian whose eyes were round as saucers. "Will you go in my stead and explain the mistake?"
"Come along now bridegroom," Catriona tugged him toward the front. "Tell these fine people why you're so smitten with me and cannot wait to be my husband." When he met her gaze just for an instant he spotted uncertainty. It was barely discernible, quickly hidden by a raised brow of challenge. The minx expected him to come up with an excuse' to rush through the speech, admit it to be a mistake and then run like a coward.
Every eye in the tavern went from her to him as they stared at each other. Faolan wrapped his arm around the woman's waist and brought her against his side. A collective murmur of astonishment sounded.
She felt perfect, as if made for him. Tucked under his arm, her soft curves molding to his harder body; Faolan felt protectiveness take over. He eyed her, noting the green of her eyes reminded him of a lush forest floor.
"I am proud to marry such a beautiful lass. Do not plan to tame her or change her in any way. Tis feisty is true, but a finer heart I dare anyone to find."
The crowd nodded their heads, admitted what he expected. That although Catriona may be hard to control and perhaps a bit too carefree, she cared for the people of the village and they for her.
"You do not know me enough to say that sir," She said softly and pushed away.
The old man raised his cup. "A kiss!"
Catriona's eyes widened and she turned to him. Before she could utter a word Faolan took her mouth, covering it with his and delving head first into an experience like he'd never known.
Desire and innocence combined with madness and heat battled for control, only to be doused by the knowledge that he'd just sealed his fate.
The quest he'd come for could be no more.
Chapter Two
"Ouch," Catriona exclaimed when Bessie yanked the comb through her tangles. "How was I to know he would accept? I expected he would run out the door and leave town immediately."
The fire in the hearth flickered giving the room a warm glow. The shadows of the flames cast moving figures on the walls and flooring. She dug her cold feet into the warm blanket where Bessie had placed a heated brick wrapped in cloths.
"Now I have to figure out what to do," Catriona told her housekeeper and confidant. "Ian is quite cross with me."
"Surely Mister Ian will not stand for you to marry this stranger," Bessie said and began braiding her hair.
Catriona looked toward her door. "I thought the same, but instead he invited him here to stay for a few days. From what I overheard, the man has to hurry home. I would say he can only linger a sennight at the most, because if he doesn't leave soon, it will be impossible to reach Skye until early spring."
Bessie sighed. "They seemed to have hit it off, to be fast friends, 'ave been talking nonstop since coming home." She stilled for a moment. "Tis a handsome one isn't he?"
"Aye that he is. But no matter. I willna take a husband. Will never marry and be treated like cousin Osla, heavy with the fourth bairn in as many years. Sean always off in the fields working, while she's stuck at home with all the noise and havoc."
"She seems quite happy to me," Bessie replied then shrugged when Catriona directed a glare at her. "And Sean is a good husband."
"Of course she is not happy. Who would want to be constantly heavy with child and with a husband who can't keep his cock put away?"
Bessie's gasp was followed by a quick smack on Catriona's head with the brush. "Do not be speaking like that. You could be o'erheard and Mister Ian will have both our heads."
Catriona rubbed the sore spot, frowned but also looked to the doorway. "Mark my words. As we sit here, those two are plotting a way for the Wolf to get away. Even as early as tomorrow morning, he will be gone and I will never see him again."
She stopped talking and looked into the flames. The warm embers reminded her of Faolan's eyes. They were a warm amber shade like she'd never seen before. As handsome as he was, it shocked her to find he'd escaped marriage for so long. He seemed older than her, perhaps closer to Ian's six and twenty than to her age, as she was barely two and twenty. "If he leaves in the morn, I will have but a kiss to remember him by," she said pretending to swoon. "Poor pitiful spinster Catriona everyone will say." She let out a chuckle and looked to Bessie with a glint in her eye. "Hmm, t'would be a pity not to have more than one kiss from my betrothed don't you think? I should try to speak to him again before he departs. Say a proper goodbye."
Bessie cocked her head to the side, her expression pensive, brows lowered as her gaze took Catriona in. "You like him."
A chuckle escaped. "Now you are the one who's gone mad. How can I feel anything Bessie? I've barely spoken a few words to the man."
"And yet something about him speaks to you." Bessie was silent as she braided Catriona's hair. "They say when two hearts are meant to be, they speak to each other. I wonder if perhaps you do need to spend time alone with him. Just to be sure. What if he is meant to be yours?"
Catriona sat up and cocked her head. The murmur of male voices traveled to the kitchen from the main room. "I want to know what they speak of. Come with me." Before Bessie could utter a word of protest she tiptoed barefoot down the hallway to the main room. Bessie ran into her when she stopped and both stifled a giggle.
The men sat on opposite chairs facing the fireplace. Ian was speaking but with his voice being so deep, she couldn't make out the words. "Blasted man, I wish he would speak up," she whispered to Bessie, who nodded.
"I won't go back on my word. Yet I still plan to go to the well," Faolan said and took a drink of whatever was in the glass. Whiskey she ventured to guess. From the stronger brogue and slowness of his words, the man was drunk.
Ian chuckled and reached for the bottle of whiskey. "I'll go with you. May make a wish of my own."
"Drunk, the both of them," Bessie said shaking her head. "In the morning they'll be sorry for it." Bessie forgot to whisper and Ian turned to the door. Catriona ducked and shoved the maid forward.
Bessie was quick to recover from the shock of being found out. "Mister Ian. Do you require anything? Perhaps some bread and cheese to soak up some of the drink in your bellies?"
Both men seemed to find what Bessie said comical as they laughed until leaned over. It gave Catriona a chance to get a good look at her betrothed. Something in her stomach fluttered and her breath caught at seeing once again how attractive he was. He sat relaxed in the large chair, with one long leg stretched before him and the other bent. His red and black tartan that wound mostly around his waist earlier, now fell in folds over his legs. He wore a grey tunic that did not hide the wide expanse of his chest and broadness of shoulders. Her gaze traveled to the opening at his neck, which gaped open as the fastenings had come loose. There she spied a sprinkling of hair making her wonder how much it covered.
There was a shadow of hair on his jawline and his light brown hair fell to his shoulders. When she looked to his eyes, he was looking at her. A corner of his mouth lifted acknowledging he'd been aware of her ogling and Catriona felt her eyes widen.
Just as she was about to duck back into the hallway, Ian called out to her. "Why are you out and about in your night clothes? Get on to bed lass before I drag you to your chamber and lock you in."
"I am not a child to be told when to go to bed," Catriona stepped fully into the doorway and placed her fists on her hips. "You are an oaf, brother. Even if you wish a thousand times at the well, no lass in her right mind will ever marry you."
"You know of the well?" It was Faolan who spoke. When she looked to him, his gaze traveled lazily down her body. It was then she realized she wore a rather thin nightshift. Catriona moved to stand behind Ian's chair cursing inwardly at the heating of her cheeks.
"Aye of course," she said ignoring Ian who looked at her with interest.
Her brother turned fully to face her. "Catriona don't lie to me. Did you go there? You know where it is?"
As usual her mouth had her in a predicament. The three people in the room watched her, waiting on a response. The well was a fable. It was something everyone talked about, but rarely anyone could find. One morning just ten days earlier, she'd left the village in search of peace and quiet. Not paying attention to how far she'd walked, panic set in at realizing she'd become lost. It was then that she spotted a beautiful well in a clearing. The water had been so refreshing. Gazing into the depths of it a sense of peace had come over her. It was then that she realized it was the mysterious wishing well. And she'd wished. With all her heart, she prayed for a man who would accept her and love her without wanting to change her. A man from elsewhere who would take her to see new lands. Of course it was a spur of the moment thing. It was just a well, nothing special. Wishing wells did not exist after all.
"Catriona?"
She gasped and looked to Faolan Mackinnon. "Sleep well all." She fled from the room not stopping until inside her chamber. With her eyes closed tight, Catriona leaned on the door gulping down air in an attempt to slow down her thundering heart. "What have I done? Now he'll remain and want to question me further," she mumbled moving to look out the window to the darkness outside.
Bessie knocked on the door. "Do you need anything dear? You paled as if seeing a ghost."
Catriona cracked the door and looked past Bessie to ensure the men had not followed. "Where are they?"
"They refilled their glasses. Mister Ian is sure you made up the story of knowing where the well is. The other man, Mister Faolan plans to ask you to take him there in the morning."
"He won't be up in the morning. By the time he rouses, I'll be in town at the market. I promised to help Osla with
the bairns while she minds her stand."
"Aye true. Of course and by the time of your return, by the evening meal, he should be on his way."
She felt much better as she climbed into bed. In the darkness Catriona could picture Faolan Mackinnon clearly. He was a fine man, but not the one for her. One day, if she decided to marry, it would be someone from her village, a strong man, not intimidated by either she or her brother, Ian the brute.
No matter how handsome and the coincidence of her wish, the Wolf of Skye was meant for someone else. For a man did not travel so far without a purpose or a strong reason. In his case a woman no doubt, for the well was known to grant lovers' wishes.
Suddenly she didn't care to know the truth of it. Hopefully he would be gone and she'd never see him again. Something about him called to her and she did not like it one bit.
"Sometimes a heart will call to another." Bessie had said.
"No!" She shouldn't have drunk so deeply from her brother's tankard. The ale had made her daft.
Chapter Three
Faolan wasn't sure what to think. He lay on the bed as the bright sun filled the chamber the next day and pondered the happenings of the night before. Had he actually professed in front of an entire village to marry a woman he'd only known a few moments? His temples pounded and he grimaced upon sitting up. Sometime in the late hours either Ian or the maid had shown him to a bed. He couldn't remember clearly. What he did remember quite well was the fiery haired lass who'd managed to put him into quite the predicament.
Today he'd seek her out and find a way to convince her that to marry each other would be a mistake. After all, he was sure she did not want to go so far away from her brother. And to make matters more complicated, he had little to offer. He was part of his father's guard and apart from a good sized bedchamber and such; all he owned were his horse and plaid. Although his father had promised to grant him land upon marriage. He frowned in thought as the thudding in his head forced him back to the present.
In spite of the head pain, he got up and washed his hands and face in the basin and ran a wet cloth over his body. Once that was done, he spread his plaid on the floor and took his time pleating it before laying upon it and wrapping it about his body. Guessing by the sun, it was late morning, yet the house was eerily silent. Faolan wondered if perhaps Ian was still abed, also with a pounding head and if Catriona had gone out. He couldn't picture her sitting demurely stitching or whatever it was womenfolk did.