by Lynsay Sands
The maid shook her head as she bent to pick up Eva’s nightdress. “I’ll jest be puttin’ things away first, m’lady. Ye go on. If ye need me, just send one o’ the maids to fetch me.”
Eva hesitated, oddly reluctant to leave the girl’s company behind. She had only known the maid a day, yet felt like she was the only friend she had in the world.
“Go on,” the maid urged. “Ye have to eat. Cook will be sore if ye pass up her meal after she worked so hard at it and all.”
“Aye.” Eva forced herself to open the door and step out, then pulled the door reluctantly closed, wishing all the while that Glynis were coming with her. She felt oddly uncertain and small all of a sudden. The only other time Eva had felt this way was when she’d had to venture out alone at court in search of her brother. It was such a large castle, and full of so many strangers, all dressed in their finery and peering down their noses at her faded and outdated gowns with disdain. It was the only time in her life that Eva had found herself concerned with her appearance. Usually, she didn’t mind that her gowns were worn and old and not at the height of fashion, but after two days of being sneered at, and laughed at behind hands, all she’d wanted was to go home where she was accepted as she was. Unable to do that, she’d instead borne the rude behavior when necessary, then run and hid herself away as often as she could get away with it.
Reminding herself that she was no longer wearing a threadbare, outdated gown and that she looked every bit the lady of the castle, Eva forced her shoulders straight and headed along the hall. She heard the murmur of voices rising from the great hall before she quite reached the stairs. It sounded like two people talking, a man and a woman. Eva forced herself to take a deep breath and continue. Finally, she would meet her husband, she told herself and wasn’t surprised that her heart picked up speed and began to race a bit. The racing stopped the moment she started down the stairs and chanced a glance at the occupants of the room below and saw that it was Ewan and Magaidh seated at the trestle table, not a strange man who might be her husband.
Eva tried to ignore the relief that coursed through her, but her feet moved a little quicker down the stairs now that she knew the dreaded meeting wasn’t at hand. Really, she reprimanded herself silently, she should look forward to meeting the man, not dread it so.
“Good morn—oh!” She paused and blinked at the woman seated with Ewan at the table. Eva had thought it was Magaidh, but while she had the same dark good looks and similar facial features, this woman was older, closer in age to Ewan, she thought.
“This is Ailie, m’lady,” Ewan stood to introduce them, drawing Eva out of her startled silence.
“Short for Aileen,” the woman added as she too now stood and moved around the table to offer Eva a welcoming hug. “Welcome to MacAdie.”
Eva smiled as Aileen stepped back. “Thank you,” she murmured, but her gaze moved questioningly to Ewan. She hadn’t a clue who the woman was. She knew so little about her new home.
“Ailie’s me wife,” Ewan said with some pride, then added, “And yer husband’s sister.”
Eva’s eyes shot back to the woman with surprise. Aileen MacAdie looked older than Magaidh yet she was Connall MacAdie’s sister, while Magaidh had claimed to be his mother. Last night Eva had explained away the other woman’s youthful appearance to herself by deciding that Magaidh must be a stepmother. That explanation, she realized now, would work just as well to explain the age difference between the two women. Magaidh was obviously stepmother to Aileen as well. Eva supposed that meant that her husband was probably of an age with Ewan and Aileen, older than herself by a good twenty years. Not what she had expected, but not so bad, she reassured herself. At least he was not in his dotage. And really, what had she expected? A handsome and wealthy young man willing to buy her to bride when he would be so much of a catch on the marriage market? No, of course not.
“Are ye feelin’ recovered from the journey?” Ewan asked, and Eva suddenly realized they were all still standing while she had pondered the matter. She was being rude. Moving forward at once, she settled at the table even as Ailie and Ewan did and offered the couple a smile.
“Yes, thank you. Much recovered,” she said with a wry smile, knowing that she had probably slept much longer than he. Eva doubted if he had gone to bed as early as herself yesterday and he obviously hadn’t slept as late. “And you?”
“Aye.” He glanced over his shoulder toward a door and opened his mouth, but before Ewan could call out whatever order he had planned to, the door opened and several servants bustled in. Relaxing, he turned back and grinned at her. “Cook’s made something special to welcome ye to MacAdie and we’ve been waiting all morning to see what ’tis.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to have made you wait,” Eva murmured, watching with curiosity as the maids began to set platters on the table. Red hair seemed to be a common trait amongst the MacAdies. Several of the servants had the same carroty red hair and freckles as Glynis.
“Doona fret,” Ailie laughed. “Ewan’s teasing ye. We didna expect ye to rise even as early as ye have. The trip here must’ve been exhausting fer ye. I doubt that I could have managed it as well as Ewan claims ye did.”
Eva smiled at that compliment, but her attention was quickly caught again by the food being laid out before them. The most wonderful smells were coming from the platters and Eva suddenly felt starved. Her stomach was reacting as if she hadn’t eaten since leaving Caxton, yet Ewan had given her oatcakes on the journey and she had eaten a full repast the night before of cheese and bread and meat.
“Hmmm,” Ewan murmured as the servants finally finished arranging the food and moved off. “I see bannocks and crowdie…and berries of course. Oh look, she made black buns and Atholl Brose too. Mmmm.” He grinned at Eva. “And she made enough for us all.”
“Course I did!”
That snapped comment made Eva glance over her shoulder at the robust woman now approaching the table.
“Think I didn’t know you’d be sniffing around the table, Ewan MacAdie? Yer a man ruled by yer appetites like every MacAdie around and before ye.” She sniffed at the man, then turned to Eva, her expression turning into a welcoming smile. “Hello, m’lady. I’m Effie, cook here and this is me welcome to MacAdie fer ye. I’m hoping ye live a long and happy life with us.”
“Thank you, Effie.” She smiled at the cook. “This all looks lovely.”
The woman smiled and nodded and glanced over the table. “I usually serve jest the bannocks and crowdie—or some other cheese—to break fast, and fruit too if ye’ve a taste,” the woman informed her.
Eva glanced at the dishes the woman had gestured to as she spoke. The bannocks were simple oatcakes, the crowdie appeared to be a white cheese rolled in oats. The fruit on the table was all berries; raspberries, strawberries, tayber-ries, and brambles.
“But this morning I made the black buns and Atholl Brose special fer ye, as Ewan pointed out,” she added heavily, then explained, “The black bun is a rich fruit cake with raisins, currants, and fine-chopped peel and such in it. Atholl Brose is a lovely pudding of oatmeal, honey, cream, and whiskey. I hope ye’ll be enjoying them both.”
“I’m sure I will,” Eva assured her and wasn’t just being polite. Her mouth was watering from the smells around her. The black buns and pudding and indeed the bannocks were all obviously freshly made. She flushed with embarrassment as her stomach growled, but Effie merely laughed and began to dish food into the trencher before Eva.
“Here ye are then, lassie. No need to wait. Yer stomach’s wantin’ filling.”
Eva could have hugged the woman when the cook piled more food on the trencher in front of her than she ever would have dared to put on it herself. Guilty as she had always been made to feel for being a burden to her brother, Eva had always ate sparingly, and had always felt hungry for it. But Effie had no such qualms to restrain her and heaped the food on until Eva wanted to moan with pleasure.
“There we are then, and I’ll be expectin�
� ye tae eat all of that so’s ye don’t insult me cookin’. We need to put some meat on those fine bones of yers,” she announced. “Now, I’m back to the kitchens. I’ve lots to do ere the nooning repast.”
“Thank you,” Eva called after her, then turned back to survey her trencher with anticipation. Where to start?
It was a question that repeated itself in her head some time later as Eva tried to decide what to do next. She had enjoyed a lovely discussion with Ailie and Ewan while eating the fine fare the cook, Effie, had presented for her. Eva had eaten every last bite of her meal, and was now almost sorry she had. Her stomach felt ready to explode. Reprimanding herself never to be so greedy again, she’d stayed at table talking to Ailie and Ewan about desultory subjects until her discomfort eased.
Eva had learned that, not only did she now have Ailie and Ewan as her new brother and sister-in-law, she also had two nieces and a nephew. She had rather hoped that they would be sweet young children she could spoil and rock on her knee, but Ailie had quickly corrected her in that. The couple’s children were grown, with the son the oldest, having seen twenty-five years. One of the daughters had a daughter of her own. That child was young enough to spoil and rock on her knee at least, Eva supposed, and readjusted her idea of the woman’s age in her mind. She had thought Ewan had seen forty summers and Ailie must be close behind. Now she suspected they were a touch older than that and had just aged well. Either that or Ewan had married Ailie right out of the cradle. That made Eva wonder just how old her husband was. Was Ailie the older of the two? Or was her husband close to fifty summers?
It wasn’t unusual for girls to be married to older men, and a husband twenty years the bride’s senior could be common, but thirty years or more was a bit much. Unwilling to think about that, Eva had tried to steer the conversation toward her husband and where he might be, but Ailie and Ewan had seemed resistant to her attempts. All Ewan had said about her husband was that he was away for the day, but should return around supper. Despite that, Eva had found her eyes darting to the keep door every time it had opened to admit someone, some part of her hoping and at the same time dreading, that he would change his plans and suddenly appear to welcome her as his sister, his mother, and even his cook already had. But it never happened. It seemed her husband wasn’t troubled about making her feel welcome.
Eva found that a bit alarming. His willingness to pay a dower to claim her was at odds with the way he was now seeming to ignore her very presence. She tried to reassure herself that he was the laird here, and therefore busy and she could hardly expect him to bring everything to a halt for her. But Eva still found herself a bit disappointed. She was also a bit concerned. Perhaps he had seen the party arrive and caught a glimpse of her where she had not been able to see anyone else. He could have been on the wall as they rode in and rushed down to greet them. If that were the case, perhaps he had been disappointed in her looks and suddenly sorry about the bargain he had made.
That was an alarming thought. While Eva had been a tad distressed by suddenly finding herself bought to bride and dragged off to the wilds of Scotland, now that she was here, it wasn’t so bad. Everyone, bar her husband, had been very kind and welcoming and Eva was starting to see that life here might be pleasant, she could even be happy. Besides, being sent home in shame, rejected by the man who had saved her from the abbey, was a consequence too horrifying to contemplate.
It seemed to Eva that it was in her best interests to prove her worth to her husband. Certainly she wasn’t the prettiest girl in England—or Scotland for that matter—so her value had to be proven in more concrete ways. She had to prove her usefulness, Eva had decided. The fact that proving her usefulness had never secured her spot at Caxton was not one she allowed herself to ponder. It was too disheartening. Instead, once Ailie had excused herself to go visit with her daughter, and Ewan had removed himself to oversee the keep as first while her husband was away, Eva had sat at the trestle table as the servants cleared things away and tried to think what she could do.
Inspiration had struck just as the last of the things were cleared away and Eva popped up from her seat with excitement. She needed to find Glynis; she would need help with this endeavor.
Connall found Ewan waiting for him when he stepped out of the secret room where he slept during the daylight hours. That in itself was a bad sign as Ewan would usually have been at the trestle table enjoying his supper at this hour. The fact that he wasn’t suggested there was a problem.
“What’s happened?” he asked abruptly as he let the stone door slide closed behind him. “Has there been another attack?”
“Nay,” Ewan assured him quickly. “Nay, nothing so serious.”
“Then why are ye here?”
“Weell, there is a matter I wished tae speak with ye aboot. Just a small matter really,” he added when Connall began to frown.
“A small matter that has ye waitin’ at the passage fer me to rise?” he asked doubtfully.
“Weell.” Ewan hesitated, then said, “Tis aboot yer wife.”
Connall’s eyebrows rose in surprise, then lowered with displeasure. “Has something happened to the lass?”
“Nay.” Ewan frowned. “Nought has happened to her.”
“Then what is it, mon?” Connall was becoming impatient.
“She…er…Tisn’t what’s happened to her, ’tis what she’s done, Connall,” he said finally.
“Well, spit it oot, maun. What has she done?”
Four
“She what?”
Ewan winced at that roar and all his own worry and anger at Eva’s actions that day washed away under sudden pity for her. Connall wasn’t happy and he knew from experience that the man could be unpleasant when angry. Where he had been outraged himself earlier and upset on Aileen’s behalf, Ewan suddenly found himself trying to minimize the matter. “Weell noo, Connall, her intentions were good. She just didnae understand the damage she could do. Anywhere else, her efforts to brighten the great hall wouldnae ha’e been a problem.”
Connall waved his excuses away. “Is Aileen all right?”
“Aye.” Ewan shifted, some of his earlier upset returning at the reminder of how Aileen could have been harmed by Eva’s efforts. “Aye. She saw what Eva was doing from the stairs and sent a servant to fetch me while she went back to our room.”
“Hmm.” Connall looked a little less upset, but was still displeased. “Where’s me wife now?”
“She was sat at table still when I came tae meet ye,” Ewan answered, following Connall as he headed for the stairs.
“If a servant fetched ye, why’d ye no tell her to put them back up?”
“I did try to tell her that removing the furs from the windows and arrow slits in the great hall wasn’t a good idea, but she was sure ye’d be pleased, and insisted on yer seeing it first and making the final decision,” he said with remembered vexation. Ewan wasn’t used to such flouting of his authority. As first, he was in charge when Connall wasn’t available and everyone listened to him. Except Eva, it would seem.
Connall grunted and started down the stairs, but Ewan paused at the top of them, suddenly reluctant to be a witness to the upbraiding his new mistress was about to get, and was now almost sorry that he hadn’t found a milder way of telling Connall instead of blurting it all out in high dudgeon as he had. In excusing the lass’ behavior to her husband he had managed to get past his own anger enough to see that she hadn’t really done anything so awful. In any other keep, her attempts to brighten the great hall would have been perfectly normal and perhaps even appreciated. Here it was not, but they could hardly expect her to know that.
After a hesitation, Ewan turned toward the chamber he shared with his wife and went that way instead.
“Is Connall verra angry?” Aileen asked as he entered.
“I thought ye’d still be at table,” Ewan muttered as he closed the door.
“I didn’t wish to embarrass Eva further by witnessing her upset when Connall reacts to the
great hall with anger rather than the pleasure she had hoped fer,” Aileen said quietly. “She was only trying to make a place fer herself and fit in.”
“Aye.” Ewan sighed as he sank into the chair opposite hers by the fire. “I wish ye’d pointed that out to me before I went to speak to Connall.”
Aileen smiled at her husband. “I knew ye’d see that fer yersel’ eventually, but wouldnae listen while ye were in such a temper. There’s no talking to ye when ye’re in a temper, my love. Much like Connall.”
Ewan scowled at the comment. He could agree that Connall had a temper, yet here was his wife claiming he had one too, and he supposed, if he were to be honest, he would admit that he did.
“I hope he isnae too hard on her.”
“Aye,” Ewan agreed, but knew that he had rather wound up the man with his own upset, greeting him with it the moment he arose as he had. Sighing, he heaved himself to his feet. “I’d best go be sure he doesnae overdo it.”
Aileen smiled and stood to kiss him on the cheek. “Remind him she was only tryin’ to find a way to please her new husband.”
“Aye.” Ewan brushed her cheek with the back of one hand, marveling that he loved her as much today, if not more, than he had when he’d tackled Connall and asked to have her for his wife thirty years ago, then he turned and left the room.
The great hall was nearly empty when Ewan started down the stairs. This was unusual, on a normal night the tables would still be filled with people talking loudly as they finished their meals. It seemed Aileen wasn’t the only one who had made a discreet withdrawal, he thought as he spotted Eva’s lone figure at the table. She appeared a very small and lonely figure to him. Connall was crossing the great hall and just approaching her now.
Ewan started down the stairs, only then noting the men standing by the fire watching their laird approach his new bride. It was Donaidh, Geordan, Domhall, Ragnall, and Keddy, all the men who had ridden with him to collect her, and he descended the stairs to join them. He would watch from there and intervene only if necessary.
