Sarra had collapsed onto the dry, dusty ground, chest heaving with exertion from the swim. Cedric had fallen down beside her. His frame stretched out next to hers as he leaned up on one elbow and stared at her face. Tiny lines surrounded his eyes as if he were laughing.
“Why are you smiling?”
Cedric used his finger to lift a strand of wet black hair, placing it behind her ear. His lips twitched and a grin spread across his visage. “Ye are verra beautiful.”
Sarra gulped. He looked directly at her body. A flush crept up her skin from her toes to the top of her head. The heat from his gaze seared her flesh. Struggling to maintain control, she said, “Thank you. Would you retrieve the boat?”
A frown wrinkled his forehead. “Are ye trying to distract me?”
How did he know? “Of course not. But I can’t leave the boat out there. And as you can see, I’m in no condition to retrieve it myself.”
Those words opened her up to more scrutiny as he searched for reasons why she couldn’t go. While Cedric’s hands never touched her, Sarra’s skin still tingled and burned. Did he know what he was doing to her?
When Sarra could stand it no longer, and she was ready to throw herself into his arms, he said, “I don’t know. Why should I?”
“Because I asked you to.” Her response was no more than a hoarse whisper.
Sarra listened to his humph of dissatisfaction as he stood and dove back into the tepid water to retrieve the small bobbing vessel.
What had possessed her to fall in? Countless times she’d spent in her boat, paddling to the middle of the pond standing up to allow the sun to warm her face and the breeze to ruffle her hair, and never had it flipped with her. Until now. And how had Cedric been so close by? Was he following her? To what purpose would he do such a thing?
When the boat was secured back to its post, Cedric returned and flopped down beside her again. In a seated position he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
“Thank you.”
Over his shoulder, he looked at her, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes when he replied. “Ye are welcome. Is there anything else I might do for ye while we’re here? Do ye need yer horse’s hooves re-shod? What about yer dress mended?”
Lips pursed together, as she rose to a sitting position with her hands placed behind her to brace herself, she said, “Hmm, you are attempting to be humorous. Again thank you for retrieving the boat. As I said it would be quite impossible for me to do so at the moment and if I waited too long and left the boat on the water I might never be able to retrieve it.”
“Important to ye, is it?” he said, eyes looking out over the rippling water.
“You could say so, aye. My father gave it to me. We used to go out on the water together and study scripture.”
With those words he looked back at her. An eyebrow rose, “Scripture?”
“Yes. The Bible. God’s word.”
“Oh.”
Sitting up straighter, she used a finger to twirl her hair, as she asked, “Didn’t you study God’s word with your family?”
“Nay,” Cedric replied with eyes downcast.
Should she ask? Maybe there was a way to help him feel more comfortable with the subject of faith. A fleeting thought raced across her mind. Sarra pushed herself up to a standing position, a little unbalanced in her heavy clothing, leaning sideways.
Cedric had followed suit taking her hand in his. Where his palm rested, a burning sensation cut through the sleeve of her gown.
Sarra suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She needed to get away from Cedric.
Straightening, she gathered up her skirts and shuffled forward toward her waiting horse. In just their brief time by the water’s edge, Cedric had gone from shameless observer to playful friend.
Turning her back to him she asked, “Will you be attending the festivities tonight?”
“Of course. The whole village has been invited. And I wouldn’t want to miss a good party.”
Hesitantly Sarra added, “Do you dance?”
“Dance?”
“Aye, dance. You know, move to music, mostly while holding a woman or facing a woman.”
“I dance a little, aye.”
“Will you dance with me?”
Cedric’s eyebrow rose in question. Perhaps it was a tad forward on her part. But he had kissed her. She thought it gave her the right to ask for a dance if nothing else.
Clearing his throat, he said, “Now ye know it is for me to ask ye. Not for ye to ask me.”
“I know. I just wanted to put in my request before, you know, we were there and everyone else asked you and you had no time.” Sarra could hear the childish sound coming from her voice.
“Why of course, I can save ye one dance. Wouldn’t be right to deny a lass her one wish.” Cedric grinned wide, showing a row of perfectly white teeth.
Sarra picked up her soaked skirts, preparing to stalk away as she answered, “Don’t flatter yourself. This is definitely not my one wish. I just thought—well, it doesn’t matter. You will dance with me if you like or dance with another. It doesn’t make a difference.”
Did Cedric know she was lying? Of course, it made a difference to her! He was the only man who had ever kissed her. No other’s lips had touched her own. A connection had begun between them. At least she thought so.
As Sarra waited, Cedric placed his hand under her chin and raised her head so she could look him in the eye. “Sarra, look at me.”
“Aye?”
“Ye should go back to the keep and take a hot bath. I’m sure the mistress will be needin’ ye before the party.”
“Aye, I think it is a most excellent idea.” Sarra flashed a winsome smile at Cedric and waited for him to move. He mounted his horse and pulled on the reins, waiting on her to do the same.
As they rode back along the trail to the keep together, Sarra noted the way Cedric sat upon his horse. The steed was an older animal, one which many would have put out to pasture long ago. Most people left the beast to eat hay in the stable rather than be frustrated by its meandering ways, but Cedric patted the animal. Why, Sarra believed he even whispered words of encouragement to the beast.
Not only had he saved her from drowning, but he’d retrieved the boat as well. The kindness he exhibited caused a feeling of happiness to swell in her breast. Unbidden, a smile rose to her face.
Cedric glanced up and caught her looking at him. His eyes brightened as he sent her a knowing smile.
Chapter Twelve
Sarra ordered a bath and waited in the bedroom. Lying across the bed and looking up at the ceiling, worries assailed her. The party was for her birthday and everyone would be there.
The question was, could they remain silent about her identity? And what was she going to do? Cedric thought her a simple maid. He didn’t yet know she was the mistress. She was sure this misconception was why he was giving her so much attention. She was a passing fancy, nothing more than a dalliance before he went upon his way. But the fact was she enjoyed the attention.
As Sarra lay back down, she relived the kiss. Cedric had stirred up a passion in her which she had not expected. She possessed such a longing to be loved, one she hadn’t been aware existed. She was so absorbed in thought, the knock upon the door startled her.
“Aye?”
“Mistress, we have the water for ye.”
“Oh, come in.”
Several men brought in the huge metal tub, followed by a group of women with hot water jugs. When they were all finished, one of the maids offered to stay and help Sarra get ready for the party. She thought of declining but decided against it. It might be nice to have the company.
After her bath, Ella helped her pick a gown of deep purple. The maid piled Sarra’s black hair high atop her head and weaved a strand of little white pearls through the curls. Next, she picked out a set of pearl ear bobs. “I think this would match quite nicely, my lady.”
Sarra reached around and patted the young lady’s hand. “I worried al
l day about what I would wear tonight, and you have done a lovely job putting me together. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Well, yer thanks be enough, me lady. Ye be mighty deserving of the festivities. And I am mighty pleased to help ye look yer best.”
Just as the maid was finishing, another knock sounded.
“Who is it?” Sarra called.
“It’s me, lass,” came Charism’s aged voice from the other side of the door.
The maid answered the door, giving Charism room to enter. “Do ye need anything more, me lady?”
“No, Ella. You may go. Thank you.”
Ella bowed as she walked out into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
“Are ye ready, lass?”
“Aye. As ready as I’ll ever be. Charism, do forgive me if this sounds terribly rude. But I can’t go to the party.”
“What?” Charism asked with a raised eyebrow.
Standing, Sarra paced. Her hands fluttered about her as she tried to explain her situation. “Charism, I’ve met someone.”
Charism appeared shocked but didn’t speak. Sighing deeply, Sarra continued. “He’s not from here. He’s a Scot. And I’m afraid he doesn’t know I’m the mistress of the keep.”
“I see.”
“Aye. He thinks I’m the mistress’ maid. What am I going to do? I thought I would never say these words, but I like him. And I wish he would like me. But not for the land. Not for Greenbriar. But for me.” Throwing up her hands, she added, “Oh, this is a disaster. Everyone at the party knows who I am. What am I to do to hide my identity?!”
“Why not tell him the truth?”
“What? Nay. I cannot. Not yet. Perhaps another time. Right now I need to be maid Sarra. Can’t you help me?”
Charism studied her. Sarra peered down at the dress and realized how overdone the outfit was for a mere maid.
Groaning inwardly, Sarra placed a hand on the gown, poised to rip off the clothing and put on a dress of rough-hewn wool—anything to keep Cedric in the dark until he discovered he could love her.
Love? How had she jumped from like to love? No matter, just now she had to find a way to hide her identity.
“I have an idea. But I don’t know if it will work.”
“Please do tell me.”
Charism began to speak.
****
Cedric rounded the corner. At the sight of Sarra descending the stairs on Sir Henry’s arm, something twisted in his gut. Did she have to look so tenderly upon the old man? Cedric wanted that loving look directed at him. And why was he envious of an old man? Sarra was not his to claim. He was here to marry the mistress of Greenbriar and take his rightful place as Laird. There was no time to worry about maids.
Cedric walked closely behind the linked couple, listening without shame.
“Are you excited…”
The last words of the conversation escaped Cedric’s hearing as the couple entered the hallway and he moved aside. When he caught back up to Sarra and Sir Henry, the maid was saying, “I don’t care much for attention.”
“Humph, your father told me the same thing.”
The words that followed were muffled. Only snippets of the conversation were heard. “…not important to me I be the center of attention.”
“…Charism’s efforts.”
“…enjoy myself.”
“…wasn’t necessary.”
“…you are doing, aye?”
“Very.”
“…numerous suitors … why decide to settle...”
“…like him.”
“…him?”
Cedric’s fists were balled at his side as he followed behind the couple. Why was he subjecting himself to such torture? Sarra liked another? And what did Sir Henry mean about numerous suitors? The whole conversation was confusing.
Sarra faced Sir Henry, but still the words were unclear. “I don’t know exactly what it is… Not like the rest, I guess…different. ..feel things I never thought I would feel. I like ... easy to talk to…can’t explain it. I just like him.”
Sir Henry was silent. Cedric peered around the corner right as Sir Henry said, “I need to go and prepare the others. Make sure to save a dance for me.” He grabbed the maid’s hand, bowed over it, and kissed it.
Cedric watched as Sarra waited until the knight was out of sight. She straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, a foot moving forward.
Cedric sidled up beside Sarra as she was all set to make a grand entrance. “There ye are. I’ve been lookin’ for ye so I could have me dance.”
Sarra stared at him with an intense frown. “But I thought—oh, it doesn’t matter now. May I have your arm, please?”
Cedric offered his arm and Sarra took it. Her hand rested upon him in a relaxed manner. Head turned to the side, she offered him a wide smile.
Should he mention the conversation he had just overheard? Sarra’s composed attitude caused him to wait. With a nod, she was ready.
When Sarra entered the great hall, a mighty cheer arose. All the inhabitants began to toast and sing. The minstrels started the music playing and the villagers began to dance on the makeshift dance floor. Cedric eyebrow rose at Sarra. Why were they singing to her?
With a grimace on her face, Sarra walked to an aged woman sitting in the corner.
When they reached the lady, she said, “What do ye think?”
“This is too much. But it looks wonderful. I’m sure if the mistress felt like attending our birthday she would be here.”
“Aye, ye are no doubt correct. But I guess ye will just have to accept everything in her place and tell the lady what she missed, aye? Who is this ye have here?”
Cedric bowed low and introduced himself. “Cedric MacNeil at ye service.”
“Well now. Ain’t ye a handsome young man?”
Cedric felt heat infuse his cheeks. The old lady reminded him of his grandmother. Something about the old woman was familiar but he couldn’t place it. Instead of questioning her, he said, “Thank ye kindly.”
“I’m glad ye could attend the party with Sarra. Most times she’s alone on her birthday.”
Sarra sent the old woman a fierce scowl but the woman appeared to ignore it.
“So this is yer birthday as well?”
The old woman jumped in before Sarra could answer. “Aye it is. And since the mistress is too ill to attend tonight’s festivities, allow me to welcome ye to Greenbriar. Now why don’t ye two children go and enjoy yerselves?”
“Thank ye. I believe we will.”
Cedric nodded to Charism and led Sarra away toward the dance floor, attempting to hide his disappointment. He had hoped to meet the mistress and begin his courtship right away.
But all thoughts of a life with another woman fled as he entered the dance floor with Sarra on his arm. The minstrels began a slow ballad.
Ignoring the other dancers in the room who continued to trade partners, he pulled Sarra tightly into his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head. She was a perfect fit and he enjoyed the feel of her warm body against his own. He’d gone to the creek and washed his best plaid for the occasion. He had even taken time to mend his ripped tunic. Would she notice?
He was having trouble not noticing her. The purple silk gown only enhanced her smooth complexion. The pearl ear bobs swayed each time she moved her head, drawing attention to her slender, exposed neck. He longed to lean down and nibble on the space right below her ear.
“Cedric?”
“Hmmm...”
“You look handsome tonight.”
“Thank ye. Ye look ravishing yerself.”
She leaned back from him and peered up at his face, “Ravishing?”
“Ravishing,” he said, before leaning down and brush a delicate kiss across her lips.
When Cedric pulled back, a blush covered her face. Sarra cleared her throat and added with a sweep of her hand, “What do you think of all this?”
“I think yer mistress is deserving. She takes care
of the people. And even when she isn’t feelin’ well, she still decides to let the celebration continue so the people could have a much needed break from their troubles.”
“Aye. That’s the mistress. Caring without expectation.”
Her brows knitted together in a grimace and Cedric waited for an explanation of her expression. When none were forthcoming, he asked, “So ye are acceptin’ her gifts in her stead, are ye?”
Cedric watched Sarra’s throat move.
The words came out in a choked sound. “Aye, she asked me to.”
“Close, are ye?”
“You could say so.”
“Then I expect ye will be receiving gifts as well.”
“Probably more than you know,” Sarra mumbled under her breath.
Chapter Thirteen
“Can we find a seat?” Sarra asked after several trips around the dance floor.
“Of course.”
Cedric led her to one of the tables that had been scooted against the wall and pulled a chair out for her to sit down. He sat beside her and together they watched the festivities.
“Would ye like some refreshment?”
“Aye, that would be heavenly.”
Cedric left, excusing himself. As he walked away, she gave him a reassuring smile and a little wave. No sooner had he left than someone new took his place.
“How are you enjoying your birthday celebration?” asked Sir Henry as he dropped down beside her.
“Oh, it is truly wonderful. Charism did a splendid job. And all the villagers seem to be having a jolly time.”
Sir Henry held his hand out to her. “May I have this dance?”
Sarra stood and took his hand, allowing him to lead her onto the floor. With his arms placed around her at a gentlemanly distance, they danced. Sir Henry was like a second father to her. Concern was evident as they moved in the friendly embrace.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” The words slipped past the corner of Sir Henry’s mouth as a smile splayed across his face.
“Aye. I do.”
“This is a dangerous game, my lady. You don’t know what this Scot will do if he realizes you are indeed the mistress. He may take you against your will. He may have an attack planned. He may—”
There Your Heart Will Be Also Page 7
