by Katy Baker
Jenna was watching him with a look of disapproval on her face and Gretchen was glaring at him.
Ewan straightened and gave them both a small bow. “I’ll leave ye to it then. Good day to ye both.”
Then he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Chapter 11
GRETCHEN CLEANED HER hands on her apron and looked around. The kitchen was a hive of activity with people hurrying in all directions. Isabelle stood in the center of it all directing operations.
“Gwinny, check the sauce will ye? It smells like it’s burning. Owen, fetch the pastry from the cool room!”
Gretchen leaned back against the flour-strewn table and wiped a hand across her forehead.
“And what do ye think yer doing?” Isabelle said. “We’ve nay time for resting! There are jobs to be done!”
Gretchen stuck her tongue out at Isabelle.
Isabelle snorted a laugh. “Shouldnae ye be getting ready for the banquet? The food will be served soon. Ye can hardly go dressed like that can ye?”
Gretchen looked down and grimaced. Her gown was covered in flour, despite the apron, and she’d gotten jam in her hair. Still, it would be worth it if all went well tonight.
It was Amy’s birthday and the Murrays were holding a banquet in her honor. Gretchen and Isabelle had taken it upon themselves to ensure it was a banquet to remember. It was Isabelle’s chance to showcase her skills and Gretchen’s chance to thank the clan for everything they’d done for her.
And a way of saying goodbye. They’d not yet heard from Isabelle and Amy’s MacFarlane contacts but when they did, the time would have come for Gretchen to leave.
She pushed such thoughts away and smiled at Isabelle. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I could start a new trend. It’s called ‘The Lived in Look’.”
Isabelle snorted. “Get on with ye! Ye wouldnae want Lord Ewan seeing ye in that would ye?”
Gretchen tensed at the mention of Ewan’s name. Like he’d care what I’m wearing. He’s barely spoken to me in days.
“Okay. You win. I’ll go get ready.”
Gretchen made her way through the castle. The great hall was being prepared for the banquet. The tables were being festooned with best linen and bouquets of flowers were being hung from the rafters.
Gretchen glanced at the head table, to the spot Richard de Clare normally occupied and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was still empty.
De Clare had been absent from the castle since the day he’d accosted her by the postern gate. She’d received a letter of apology from him which she’d promptly dumped in the fire, and then he’d disappeared.
Good. The longer he stayed away, the better. If she was really lucky, she’d be gone from here before he returned.
She found Rose in her room, laying out a beautiful gold gown.
“There ye are!” Rose exclaimed as Gretchen entered. “I was worried ye’d not leave me enough time.”
“Time?” Gretchen asked. “Time for what?”
“To get ye ready of course! Come, sit at the mirror. We’ve got work to do!”
Gretchen rolled her eyes but did as Rose told her. As usual, Rose worked her magic and by the time she was done Gretchen barely recognized herself in the mirror. Rose had pinned Gretchen’s hair back into a series of intricate twists and braids, with only wisps left to frame her face. The golden gown she’d picked out highlighted the blonde tones in her otherwise dark hair and a silver locket finished off the look.
Rose sighed as she observed her handiwork. “Ye look beautiful, my lady.”
“Thank you, Rose. Now, be off with you. You need to get ready yourself, remember, I don’t want you missing the first course. It’s my specialty – mussels in wine. Delicious.” She smacked her lips and slurped loudly.
Rose giggled. “Aye, I wouldnae miss it for the world!”
Gretchen made her way down to the great hall. Despite herself, the minute she entered she began searching for one face.
Ewan’s.
She spotted him over at the warrior’s table where a barrage of raucous laughing was coming from. Ewan himself seemed to be at the heart of it. He was talking animatedly and gesturing. The men burst into new gales of laughter and Connail, who from his frown was obviously the butt of the joke, aimed a mock punch at Ewan’s shoulder.
Ewan’s gaze roved over the room, coming to rest on her. Her heart fluttered as their eyes met. Lord help her, she was sure that gaze of his could skewer a wild boar at fifty paces. Why did he have this effect on her? Why could she not put him out of her mind?
Ewan excused himself from his warriors and crossed the room to her.
“Gretchen,” he said stiffly, giving her a bow.
Gretchen gave the barest nod. “Ewan.”
He hesitated for a moment then held out his arm for her. “Would ye allow me to escort ye to yer seat?”
She took it and together they made their way to the head table.
Amy had pride of place in the spot where Merith usually sat, her mother and sister on either side. Merith’s young son was sitting in her lap.
“Many happy returns, Amy,” Gretchen said as she slid into a chair.
Amy grinned at her. “My thanks. This is all great fun isnae it?” She raised her tankard and took a very unladylike slurp.
“Amy!” Jenna said. “Ye should conduct yerself with more decorum. The whole clan is watching!”
Merith laughed, a rare sound, and Gretchen looked to her, startled. “Oh, mother, leave her be. It’s her banquet after all. If she wants to guzzle ale and belch like a soldier, that’s her business. Ye can resume yer battle to turn her into a lady tomorrow.”
“A lady? Amy?” Ewan said, raising his eyebrows. “I would have thought ye’d given up that battle by now, Aunt Jenna. A wise general always knows when to retreat.”
Jenna sighed. “Yer probably right. It’s a lost cause.”
Amy frowned at them all. “I’m right here ye know? When ye’ve all finished discussing me, perhaps we can get this banquet started?”
They all laughed and Gretchen sank into her seat beside Ewan feeling more light-hearted than she had in a long time. Everyone fell into easy chatter. Jenna and Amy kept up their good-natured banter and Ewan and Merith began talking about clan affairs.
Gretchen leaned forward and tickled David, Merith’s young son, under the chin. The boy squealed with laughter and started wriggling. He was a happy, handsome boy and the pride of the clan. He’d be laird one day and Gretchen knew that with Ewan to guide him, he’d make a great one. She was only sorry she wouldn’t be around to see it.
The doors to the kitchen suddenly swung open and a tide of serving staff swept into the room carrying plates and trenchers. They approached the high table and served Amy first, laying a plate of mussels in front of her.
Gretchen craned her neck to see Amy’s reaction. Amy sniffed in the aroma from the steam coming off the plate and sighed appreciatively. Then she opened one of the mussels and ate it in one go. A smile spread over her face.
“Wonderful!” she pronounced.
There was a cheer around the room and the serving staff worked diligently until everyone was served. The clan set to with a vengeance.
The banquet passed in a flurry of eating, talking and listening to the harpist that Jenna had hired for the occasion. There were jokes told, stories shared and laughter all round. When everyone had eaten their fill and the dishes cleared away, it was time for Amy’s presents.
Her mother, Jenna, gave her a beautiful new scarf. It was picked out in the clan colors and Amy draped it across her shoulders and kissed her mother on the cheek. Her sister, Merith, gave her a new dagger, and Ewan handed over a bundle with a cloth wrapped around it.
Amy took the bundle and looked at Ewan quizzically. “What’s this?”
“Take a look and find out. It’s from Connail and me.”
Amy pulled off the cloth wrapping to reveal a brand new hunting bow and quiver full
of arrows. Amy’s eyes widened and she grinned at Ewan and Connail.
“This is perfect! Have I ever told ye yer my favorite cousins?” She threw her arms around them both.
Ewan laughed, returning the embrace. “Amy, we are yer only cousins!”
Jenna rolled her eyes at Ewan and his brother. “Why did ye both have to give her gifts like that? Ye are only encouraging her. Ye should have given her gifts more befitting for a lady!”
“Oh, Mother!” Amy said, rolling her eyes in a perfect impression of Jenna. “I thought we’d agreed that’s a lost cause?”
Gretchen took Amy’s hands. “Ready for your last present? This is from me, Isabelle and the kitchen staff.”
The doors opened again and Isabelle strode out carrying the huge birthday cake that she and Gretchen had been working on. Gretchen was relieved to see that the icing had set and the eighteen candles Gretchen had put on the top were all alight. Isabelle placed it on the table in front of Amy.
“Lady Gretchen tells me there is a tradition in her land when ye have a cake like this. Ye have to blow out all the candles and make a wish as ye do so. That way, it’ll come true.”
Amy clapped her hands together. “I know exactly what I’ll wish for!” Then she leaned forward and with one big breath, blew all the candles out.
The doors to the main hall suddenly burst open. A group of men marched inside. Gretchen’s heart skipped a beat as she saw Richard de Clare striding at their head. He paused, eyes scanning the room. Then he spotted Merith and strode over.
“My lady,” he said into the sudden silence. “My apologies for interrupting but my news cannot wait.”
Merith frowned at him. “Canna or willnae, Richard?” she asked. “What is so urgent that ye’d interrupt my sister’s birthday celebrations like this?”
Richard de Clare turned and gestured. A man stepped forward. He was middle aged with a fringe of hair around his head and a belly that hung over the waistband of his pants.
“This is Martin Drummond. A merchant on his way to MacGregor lands.”
Merith stiffened. Gretchen knew they’d been waiting on MacGregor. She slowly stood and looked down at the merchant.
“Greetings to ye, sir. What news do ye bring to Clan Murray?”
The man licked his lips nervously and glanced at Richard de Clare before speaking.
“I trade in tin goods brought up from Cornwall, my lady. Andrew MacGregor has been one of my patrons for many years. I was bringing my latest shipment up the river when we were attacked. They burst from the trees, shot most of my men, pulled my barge into the bank and stole my cargo. They only left me alive so I could carry a message to Andrew MacGregor.”
Merith’s eyes narrowed. “And what was that message?”
The merchant glanced at de Clare again. “That anyone who stands with the Murrays will share their fate when the MacFarlanes destroy them.”
There was a collective gasp. The colour drained from Merith’s face. Almost absently she reached out and placed her hand on the top of her son’s head.
“I see. Did ye deliver the message to Andrew MacGregor?”
“I did, my lady.”
“And what was his answer?”
The hall was utterly silent, everyone straining to hear the merchant’s answer. Gretchen knew that the outcome of the coming struggle could be decided by the MacGregors and their archers. How many times had Ewan explained the complicated ties of alliance to her? The question on everyone’s lips was whether the MacGregors would honor their alliance with the Murrays or whether the MacFarlane threat would be enough to cow them.
Richard de Clare strode forward brandishing a parchment. “I have MacGregor’s answer right here. He says they stand with us. He says he is sending his forces to join with us here at Dun Carrick. They’ll be here in two days.”
An explosion of noise erupted around the great hall. Everyone began talking at once: shouting questions, uttering exclamations of surprise or dismay.
Merith banged her tankard on the table, calling for silence. When the hubbub had died down, she placed her palms flat on the table and raked her gaze across the gathering.
“We have been preparing for this moment for weeks,” she announced in a strident voice. “Now the moment is here. In two days the Murray clan will march against our enemies and we will destroy the MacFarlanes!”
There was raucous cheering at her words. Richard de Clare smiled smugly, looking triumphant. Ewan didn’t join the cheering. His expression was troubled and he wasn’t the only one, Gretchen noticed. Isabelle and Amy shared a look and Jenna pressed her hand against her forehead, suddenly pale.
A wave of fear gripped Gretchen and her pulse began to race. There was going to be a battle. A war. And Ewan would be in the middle of it.
The thought made her giddy with terror.
Then, out of nowhere, she remembered what Irene MacAskill had said to her that night in her apartment that felt like a lifetime ago. Ye might just be able to avert a disaster.
Was this the disaster she meant? Had Irene brought her here to avert the war between the Murrays and the MacFarlanes?
If that’s so, she thought. Then please tell me what I’m supposed to do.
She suddenly needed some air. The noise, the clamor, the presence of Richard de Clare, it was all too much. She stood and muttered apologies to Amy then made her way out into the bailey.
It was a clear night with a dusting of stars sprinkled in the sky above. Gretchen crossed the bailey to the steps that led up to the battlements and climbed. At the top she leaned on the wall, looking out over the valley.
Lights gleamed in the windows of the village and she heard singing drifting over the river from the tavern. Nearby there was a ‘plop’ as a fish jumped in the river.
Gretchen sighed. It was a peaceful scene but for how long? How long until the valley rang with the sound of fighting?
She pressed her eyes closed, unable to bear the thought of any of her friends getting hurt.
I must stop it, she thought. But how?
Footsteps echoed behind her and Gretchen whirled, instinctively raising her hand. Ewan caught her wrist before her blow could connect with his cheek.
“Easy, lass,” he said. “I dinna fancy a black eye.”
Gretchen snatched her hand back. Flustered, she snapped, “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”
“I came to check ye were safe,” Ewan said. “Didnae I tell ye not to go walking alone?”
“And didn’t I tell you I’m not one of your men to be given orders?”
Ewan ground his teeth. “I didnae come for an argument, lass.”
“Oh? Then what did you come for?”
“I came to—” he hesitated.
The moonlight caught his face, making his eyes and hair seem to shine. Lord, he was so handsome it made her heart ache. He reached out as if to touch her but hesitated and rested his hand on the wall instead.
“Connail reckons I should talk to ye. He keeps badgering me about it.”
“Connail?” Gretchen said, feeling her anger rise. “You’ve come because Connail told you to?”
“That’s not what I meant!” he replied, and his voice sounded angry now too. “Damn it, woman! Why must ye take everything I say the wrong way?”
“And how exactly should I take it? First you tell me to leave. Then you tell me I can’t leave until you give me permission. Then you ignore me. Then you come and talk to me, only to tell me your brother put you up to it!” She was yelling now but couldn’t help it.
“Tell ye to leave? What are ye talking about? Ye are the one who decided to leave!”
“Because it was clear you didn’t want me to stay!”
He stared at her. “What? How could ye think that?” He stepped forward and grabbed her arms in a firm grip. “I’m tired of this, lass. I canna do it anymore. I’ve tried. Lord knows, I’ve tried but I canna help myself.”
Then, before she could react, he leaned down and kissed her.
For a moment Gretchen was so shocked she went rigid. But only for a moment. The next thing she knew she was kissing him back, losing herself in the feel of his soft warm lips against hers, of his arms as they held her, pressing her against him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, drinking in the taste, the scent of him as their kiss deepened. Arousal flashed through her, making every nerve seem to tingle.
Gretchen lost all sense of time. Reality became a distant, unimportant thing as she felt herself sagging against Ewan, melting into his arms as he kissed her into submission. She’d longed for this. Dreamed of it. But the reality was much, much better than any dream.
Eventually Ewan broke the kiss. He pressed his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes, breathing heavily.
“I dinna want ye to leave, Gretchen,” he said in a husky voice. “Lord help me, but I’ve wanted ye since the moment I met ye in the woods. If I had my way, ye’d never leave my side.”
She stared up into his eyes. She could drown in those eyes. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”
A shadow of anguish passed across his face. “How could I ask ye to stay when there’s so much danger?”
“I don’t care about that! I just want to be with you.”
“Ye mean ye want to stay?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Your brother is right: he is the one with the brains. Of course I want to stay, you idiot. I want to be wherever you are.”
His eyes lit up and he grinned a big boyish grin. He lifted her off her feet and spun her around, letting out a whoop of joy. When he set her down again he creased his brows in a frown.
“Ye know what this means though? Connail was right, I should have followed his advice. He’ll never let me live it down.”
Gretchen laughed, joy running through her. Ewan kissed her again, deeply enough to make her toes curl. It was only when one of the guardsmen called to him from the bailey that they broke apart.
“I have to go,” he said, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “But I’ll see ye tomorrow. Try and get some sleep.”
With that he gave her a last lingering kiss, then jogged back down the steps to the bailey.
