by Madelyn Hill
She headed toward the kitchens to return trays and find Nora. If one person could be counted on to discuss her feelings, ’twould be Nora.
Faith scrambled out of the main entrance and ran into Hope. “Och, Sister. Watch yourself.”
Faith smiled and dimples pierced her cheeks. With a toss of her curly mane of hair, she nodded and turned to run toward the stables.
In her wake, two lads about her sister’s age burst from the main building with egg dripping down their angry, red faces.
“Where’d she go, m’laird?” one asked, Thomas she thought his name was, but she’d often mistaken him for his twin William who stood beside him.
“Ah, lads, in a bit of trouble with the lass, are you?” Hope admired her sister’s spirit, even when such seemingly innocent lads bore the brunt of her exuberance.
“All he did was ask her for a dance,” William said. He swiped at the yoke oozing down his cheekbone.
Hope held a chuckled at the shocked expressions on the lad’s faces. ’Twas like her sister, to react in such a manner when asked to dance by a lad. “Och, well, you have her answer, don’t you?”
Thomas’ shoulders sagged as he walked toward the palisade, presumably to wash the egg from his body in the stream. Hope felt for the boy, but couldn’t be bothered with her sister’s admirers at the moment. A flash of sympathy had her calling to Thomas. “Lad, ask Faith again. When a lass teases you as such, means she likes you.”
“Truly?” he asked with a squeaky voice. “She likes me?” He wiped at the egg dripping from his face and shook his head. “Women,” he muttered.
Hope smiled and continued on her way to the kitchen. She stopped along the way to receive congratulations from members of the clan and to coo over a newly born babe.
“Would ye like to hold her?” the mother, Bruna, asked. “’Twould be lucky for the wee lass.”
Hope wasn’t certain of that opinion, considering she’d probably drop the bairn. She wiped her hands on her kilt, lest the babe slip right between her sweaty palms. “She’s a heavy one,” Hope said as she held the baby. “What name did you choose?”
“Catriona.”
Hope quickly looked at the woman and witnessed a sense of pride had blossomed over her face. “’Tis a fine choice,” she murmured, trying to still the tremor of her voice and the ache of missing her mother.
“Ye have to watch her head, m’laird. Here, crook yer elbow and cradle her there.” Bruna looked on as a proud mother would.
Hope followed her directions and stared into the face of the babe. By Saint Brigid, she was a braw lass. A tiny tug pulled at her stomach as she watched the child yawn and close her eyes. As if her body had a mind of its own, she started to rock back and forth as if to lull the babe to sleep.
“There ye go, m’laird. Ye’ve got the gist of it.”
Bruna went on to fold some bits of cloth as she kept an eye on Hope and wee Catriona. As Hope cradled the baby, she watched in awe as Catriona opened her eyes. They were almond shaped and Hope silently named her Cat, ’twould suit her.
“What a sight.”
She frowned. “Aye, MacKerry. And what are you havering about?”
He smiled at Bruna who looked up at him as if MacKerry himself were king. Hope rolled her eyes heavenward and prayed for strength to deal with the man.
MacKerry scooped the bairn from her arms as if he’d done so every day of his life. Hope eyed him warily as he snuggled Cat and kissed her brow.
“She’s lovely, Bruna.” A full grin widened his mouth as he inhaled the scent of the baby, the same scent that had attracted Hope. And the sight of MacKerry with a babe in his arms pulled at her, tugged, and twisted emotions she needed to hold at bay. ’Twouldn’t do to reveal how he tangled her with such an innocent action.
Hope crossed her arms before her chest and tapped her foot. “How is it you’re so at ease around Catriona, MacKerry?”
His smile broadened. “A fine name, Bruna, a fine name.”
“Thank you . . . MacKerry.”
Hope watched the exchange with interest as MacKerry spoke with ease to Bruna. And how did he know her name so quickly? It was if he’d arrived and bewitched the clan into liking him immediately.
She stepped back to observe quietly and to see if she could glean any useful information. She didn’t know what to look for, but she trusted her instincts.
However, the only insight revealed was MacKerry was very charming and had a way with children and women alike. “Humph.”
“Did you say something, m’laird?”
Hope switched her gaze to Bruna. “Nay. Just clearing my throat.” She felt MacKerry’s inspection to the marrow of her bones, but she refused to acknowledge him. “I’m needed in the kitchens. Take care, Bruna.”
The woman nodded. “Aye, m’laird.”
Hope tried to shake the feeling she was being watched. ’Twas unsettling, to be sure, how Aidan’s gaze made her feel. But she couldn’t shake the heat and longing surging through her veins after a mere few moments in MacKerry’s presence. The man had gotten under her skin so quickly.
The image of her father appeared in her mind, stopping Hope in her tracks. He wasn’t injured as he’d been the last time she saw him. Nay, her father was robust and a laughing gleam filled his gaze as he led the clan. The image was so clear, she reached out to touch him, grasp onto his strength and mirth. She blinked and the image vanished. Hope clutched her chest as she pitched her gaze to the ground and walked once again to the kitchen. She entered the bustling kitchen and leaned against the door jam and exhaled.
Would her father be pleased with her alliance with MacKerry? Is that why she saw him smiling. Her heart hammered against her chest as she tried to understand what she was feeling, what she imagined her father would say about her husband-to-be.
“Good afternoon, laird,” Maeve said as she stirred the huge pot over the fire and the heat put a rosy blush on her cheeks. A familiar sight in the kitchen, Maeve helped handle the food demands of the clan with ease.
Nora tipped her head at Hope and removed bread from the oven as steam traveled upward and curled Nora’s hair.
Wee Emma fetched baskets for her mother and snatched a tart without anyone noticing except for Hope. Emma blanched and stilled like a deer spying a hunter when she saw Hope.
To ease the lass, Hope winked and smiled. Emma bobbed a quick curtsy then fled to enjoy her bounty. Hope watched her leave, admiring her carefree manner and the gift of having no worries save a pilfered tart.
With a quick inhale, Hope paced toward Nora and found strength in the mere workings of the kitchen. Organized, a well-coordinated team who kenned what was needed and how to get it done. She viewed the entire clan as such. Each person had value, position, and duties. Without such, they wouldn’t have been able to keep peace amongst them or bordering clans.
“What can I do for you, m’laird?”
Hope startled as Nora interrupted her thoughts. “Aye,” she replied as she tried to remember why she’d entered the kitchen. “Aye, I’ve to . . . to speak with you.”
Nora cocked a brow as she removed loaves of bread, placed them to cool on a rack. She swept her hands clean of flour and placed her fist at her waist. “I havena all day. Speak.”
Hope chuckled. “In my chamber.”
“Laird,” her voice rose in pitch. “I’ve more bread to bake and stew to stir. Can’t this wait?”
She waited a moment, then leaned in to whisper into the old woman’s ear.
“I’ll meet you in your chamber.”
Hope kissed Nora’s brow and raced to her chamber. As she entered the main hall, she smiled and greeted Angus as he guarded the boar roasting in the large fireplace. “Make sure the lads don’t eat the meat before it’s done.” She laughed as he glanced at the boar
and glanced about the main hall as if lads were waiting to steal a bite. He nodded then furrowed his brow as he started basting the beast again.
She patted his shoulder and headed up the stairs taking them two at a time. After rushing to her room, Hope sat in the chair her mother favored before the hearth. For a few moments, she stared at the fire, then she stood and walked over to the window. As she inspected the clan, her heart raced.
Why she was so excited was beyond her. She couldn’t understand the rapid beat of her pulse and her quickening breath. To steady herself, Hope leaned her forehead against the thin pane of window glass.
MacKerry strode across the bailey, strong, confident and . . . male. Her heart hitched. She swallowed as she looked at him. Hope continued to watch him as he spoke with some men and when he crouched on his hunches to fluff Emma’s hair.
Her heart hitched again.
Where was Nora? She still had to meet with Liam.
Hope tore her gaze from MacKerry and the enticement of his brawn and gentle nature with Emma. Instead, she watched the rest of the men ready to partake in further competition. Pride inched its way up her spine as they loosened their muscles with drills she’d taught them. ’Twas a pleasing sight, to be sure.
The door swung open and Nora entered as if she were on the back of a sturdy breeze. “Quick, tell yer Nora yer troubles.”
A smile pulled at her mouth. Hope waved to her mother’s chair by the fire as she sat in her father’s. Just at the edge, far away from the back. She’d never sat in the chair except when she was but a lass and upon her father’s lap. Banking the bittersweet memories, Hope cleared her throat and stared at her hands. “MacKerry . . . he’s, he doesn’t appear to be as barbaric as I thought.”
Nora tipped back her head and laughed. Heat flushed Hope’s face. “Och, you don’t have to be happy.”
“’Tis what you deserve. All these years you’ve havered on and on about no’ needing a man.” Nora laughed so hard her belly shook. “He’s a grand one to be starting with, lass.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “A grand lad indeed.”
Hope slouched back into the chair.
“Not to worry. MacKerry seems to like yer company.”
But weren’t men indiscriminate? Hope had seen many a man flit from one lass to another. Hadn’t some of her men chased after a different lass each night to keep their pallet warm?
“But I’m laird. I have to be careful, to be sure.”
Nora scooted forward until all of her ample body tilted off the chair and gathered Hope’s hands into her own. The old woman’s hands felt warm against her own and so, so secure. Hope closed her eyes.
“You need to do this. You must be allowing MacKerry and you to marry.” Nora’s voice cracked. “For your mother and father. Ye must.”
Hope’s eyes flew open at the urgency in her voice. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Och, ’tis nothing. You ken you need to marry.” She slipped her hands from Hope’s and a strained smile wavered on her lips.
“Tell me.”
Nora sunk into the chair defeated and uncharacteristically silent. Hope was certain Nora knew something that hadn’t been shared. Unease prickled up her spine and she nearly allowed the maid to keep her secret in fear of learning the truth of what had upset her maid so. Her stomach clenched and churned. But the desire to ken defeated the desire to remain blissfully ignorant and she found herself squeezing Nora’s hands and saying, “You must tell me.”
The maid tore her hands from Hope’s grip and twisted them together in angst. “I can’t,” she cried as tears gathered in her eyes. “I can’t.”
Hope stood. “You must. I have to know and you ken it.”
Nora’s gaze held Hope’s. Pain, regret, and fear lay deep within her eyes. The fear proved contagious as Hope’s nerves drew taut. What could possibly be so horrid that a brave and strong woman such as Nora was full of fear?
“Forgive me,” the maid said as she glanced upward and Hope assumed toward her parents. “Sit, ‘twill be easier to understand if you doona have to worry about falling on yer arse.”
Truly intrigued, Hope sat as Nora bade.
“Before we fought Clan Mungo, your father was going to unite the clans. Make us stronger as one instead of two clans that were always in the midst of war.” Nora shrugged as she began to pace. “That didn’t sit well with the council. They fought it, with much argument. Och, they fought hard.” She stopped pacing and gripped the edge of the chair and leaned forward.
Confused, Hope tried to remember a time they weren’t at odds with Clan Mungo. In her memory, there was never a time. “Go on.”
“The council disregarded—I’ve said too much, lass. I can’t say more. There will be consequences.” Nora scurried from the room without nary a backward glance.
“Nora! Nora!” Hope called. “Come back here.”
She raced after the maid and was waylaid by MacKerry. He gripped her shoulders as he saved her from falling backward.
“Let go,” she said as wrenched out of his clutch. “I have to fetch Nora.”
MacKerry glanced down the hall. “It looks as if she doesn’t want to be fetched.”
“MacKerry,” Hope hissed. “Out of my way.”
He released her, held up his hands in mock defeat, and stepped out of her way. “Go easy, laird. Go easy.”
And just what did he mean by that? Hope had no inkling as to the workings of a man’s brain, but MacKerry was evidence that men spoke in more riddles than women.
As she rushed through the keep in search of Nora, she was stopped by several clansmen who stated their excitement of the past few days.
She looked in the kitchen and had just missed Nora. After she searched the stables, livestock area, and the sewing room, Hope decided to wait until mealtime in order to confront the blasted woman. For she kenned Nora never missed the evening meal.
She straightened her back and headed to meet with Liam. The blasted man would have his say either in the privacy of the meeting room or in the main hall. And Hope certainly preferred the meeting room, to be sure.
When she entered, Liam was filling a tumbler.
“Care for one, m’laird?”
She shook her head and sat in her father’s chair. “Out with it, Liam.”
He chuckled as he sat and tipped his head to her. “Aye, right to business.” He took a long draw of whiskey than stared at her as if he were truly seeing her for the first time. “’Tis the truth of it, m’laird, I had thought ye leading the clan was a wretched idea.”
She grinned despite herself. “I don’t think you’ve ever kept that opinion to yourself, Liam.”
He shrugged and a wry grin creased his face. “Ye have the right of it.”
“What do you want?” she asked with a heavy amount of irritation added to her tone.
“Ah,” he said as he wagged a finger at her. “The other council members would like to ken the result of the competition, m’laird. In fact,” he said with a slight chuckle, “they would like to ken before the rest of the clan.”
She stood and paced before the table. “You were there when MacKerry won. What do you think my answer is?”
He grimaced. “Och, just because ye kissed the man doesn’t mean ye’ll marry him.”
She faced the man and simply said, “He won, Liam.”
“So, ye’ll keep yer promise.”
Hope sighed. “You’ll have to wait until the evening meal to hear my decision.”
Liam rose, his gaze never leaving her. ’Twas anger flaring in his rheumy eyes. “Ye’d do better to work with us, then against us, m’laird.”
The utter gall of the man. With a quick step she was at his side. “As I see it, you’ve always worked against me, and my father.” ’Twas the truth of it and with the way Nora
was acting, mayhap she may just have evidence of what Hope had worried and suspect all along.
The auld man sputtered and held up his hands is if he were merely jesting. “Yer mistaken, m’laird. All has been done for the clan. Me clan is me heart.”
She scoffed and crossed her arms before her chest. “You do not have a heart, Liam.”
He clutched his chest. “You wound me, laird.” But he didn’t seem insulted, nay, he seemed as if he was enjoying the banter. “But what I say is true. The clan is always first in my mind.”
“We’ll see about that.” Hope nodded and left the chamber. Her mind less at ease as suspicion about Liam’s motives played in her mind. Too many times the man had tried to interfere with her role as laird and he always said he represented the entire council. ’Twasn’t the case, Hope kenned, since others had confided in her over the past several years. Her mother always took the information in stride and spoke with Liam. But now her mother was gone and Hope knew Liam would most likely increase his interference.
She smiled thinking how he festered with irritation since she didn’t tell him her decision. Och, he’d have to wait until the rest of the clan was told.
Truly, she was perplexed as to why he didn’t already ken. ’Twas obvious in her opinion, but men were sometimes oblivious to the nuisances of women and their feelings.
But she was certain MacKerry kenned her thoughts and feelings.
’Twas obvious in his kisses.
The day flitted by as if it had no care and the day was wont to last forever. Hope was anxious to speak with Nora, but each time she spied the vexatious woman, she was surrounded by others or just scrambling off to gather more food for the festivities. But Hope didn’t miss the drawn look about her, the way she glanced worriedly when one of the council strode by or when she saw Hope. ’Twas truly puzzling.
