"No, Sim. I shall take care of this myself." Katherine glared at the man and held her hand out for the shawl.
Sim slowly passed it over to her.
She acknowledged it with a grim nod, turned, and left the stable. Fuming with anger, she walked rapidly toward the keep's outer gates. Her dress dragged in the mud, but what did it matter? Her attempts to look attractive for Alexander had turned into a sodden joke. Aye, for which she'd been played the fool.
It was obvious now. He cared nothing for marriage to her. Why, he must have been visiting his lover when she and her family arrived! That was why he'd not been there to meet her. She clutched the plaid shawl tightly in her fist. Her swift steps slapped her muddy skirts about as she stomped angrily through the bailey.
A few scrawny hens stood in her way, foraging for food. She snapped the plaid at them. It cracked through the air like a whip and the fowl scattered, squawking in fright. Nearby a dog tucked its tail and scurried out of her path.
She crossed under the raised portcullis and onto the rough mud-filled road, headed for the small crofter's hut in the distance. Her frowning expression caused more than one wary glance from the people she passed. Anger quickened her steps further. Within a short time, she stood before a paltry wattle and daub hut. With the woolen shawl clenched tightly in her hand, she thrust out her arm to knock just as the door opened.
A smiling old woman stood in the doorway, her wrinkled features shadowed by the dim light within.
Startled, Katherine hesitated. She had expected someone much younger. "Uh, good day mistress. I am Lady Gordon and I—"
"Ah, m'lady, 'tis a great pleasure to meet ye." Gesturing to the interior of the hut, she added, "Please come in. I am Elsa, grandmother of Fiona Duggin and once nurse to Sir Alexander's mother." The white haired woman stepped aside allowing her to enter the simple dwelling.
Katherine glanced around the sparse room. Aside from several bunches of herbs hanging from the rafter to dry, 'twas little there. The entire contents of the hut were a small table, rickety cot, a single chair and a stool near the hearth, together with a few meager belongings and a small puddle on the dirt floor. Clearly the thatched roof was in need of repair. Despite the obvious poverty, she was determined to have her say. She drew a deep breath and said, "I wish to speak with your granddaughter."
"'Tis sorry I am, m'lady, fer she isna here. Ah, I see ye've found her shawl. Fiona will be that glad to have it back. She told me just this morn, she lost it last eve when she went to see to a poor, helpless lamb caught out in the storm."
Helpless lamb, indeed! More like a wolf in rut, Katherine thought.
The old woman's face beamed with obvious pride. "My Fiona has such a lovin' heart. She put her own safety after that of a wee creature in need." Elsa drew a gnarled hand to her chest. "I beg yer pardon, m'lady. Ye look weary. Please sit beside the fire. I will fix ye some of my herb tea. 'Tis not much, but 'twill give ye back yer strength."
"Thank you, no. If your granddaughter is not here, then there's no need for me to stay." Katherine handed the shawl to her and started toward the door.
"M'lady, if ye will bide a wee bit ye may yet speak to Fiona. She should be here verra soon." Guilelessly, Elsa motioned to the cheerful light of the fire and her own worn chair.
Katherine looked at the woman's wrinkled, pleasant face. The open friendship she was being offered seemed genuine. "Perhaps I could stay for a short time. May I watch you prepare your herb tea? I have some experience with herbs and would enjoy learning more."
"Ah, m'lady, ye're most welcome to watch. I ne'er could interest Fiona in such. 'Tis a shame, fer she would have made a good healer if she'd chosen to become one. But I fear she doesna know the difference between a healin' herb and a bit of straw."
As Elsa heated water and worked with her herbs, she became quiet, as if lost in thought. When she spoke, her voice was soft and tender. "Please, m'lady, may I ask a boon of ye? I'm naught but an old woman, but I love Sir Alexander as I loved his sweet mother, God rest her soul." Elsa crossed herself then spread her hands out as if in supplication. "Fer years, I've watched him grow from a wee lonely lad to manhood. Growin' up surrounded by naught but men, he has learned little patience for women. Deep inside he is tender hearted, but he hasna yet learned to listen with his heart instead of with his head when it comes to givin' his trust to a woman."
The old woman smiled wistfully. "I pray he will do so with ye from the beginnin', but it may take a wee time for him. Doubt not he is a fine mon. He will ne'er lie to ye and will honor his vows to ye. Of that, ye can be sure."
She nodded with conviction as she poured tea in an earthen cup. "To the outside world he proves himself to be strong and braw, who needs no one. But hidden away inside he needs love as all men do, but oft willna admit it. I beg ye to be tolerant and give him time for his affection to grow, m'lady." Elsa smiled as she laid her care-worn hand briefly on Katherine's. Then she led her over to the seat by the hearth and handed her a cup of fragrant tea.
As Katherine sat before the cheery fire, she sipped the refreshing drink and felt her tense shoulders begin to relax. By the time she'd finished, the tightness in her chest had eased and the knot in her throat was gone. A sense of calm settled over her for the first time since she'd arrived at During Castle. She drew a deep steady breath and exhaled slowly, thankful to Elsa for her kindness as well as her tea.
Clearly, what she'd heard in the stable wasn't true. Never would she have been treated so kindly if it were so. Standing, she brushed at the dried mud on her skirts then said, "Elsa, thank you for the tea and your hospitality. Faith, I do feel better. I will leave your granddaughter's shawl with you. Might I visit you again?"
The old woman's face beamed in obvious pleasure. "Aye, m'lady. My hearth will always be open to ye."
Despite clouds gathering overhead, Katherine hummed and took her time walking back to the castle. Relief over learning her mistake about Alexander and Elsa's granddaughter made her feel like singing. A slim, raven-haired young woman approached and Katherine smiled in open friendship. She was startled when the girl stopped in the middle of the road, blocking her way.
She spoke abruptly. "What were ye doin' at Elsa's hut? Strangers are nay welcome there. Her mind grows worse each day and I willna have aught distressin' her." Noticing the betrothal ring on Katherine's hand, the girl gasped and her attractive face contorted in an ugly scowl. "So, ye must be the one who means to take my place in Alexander's heart. Ha. Ye'll ne'er have it." She tossed her head back, slinging her dark hair like a whip. "I am Fiona Duggin. Alex and I have been together always; close friends in childhood and lovers e'er this past year."
Katherine's eyes widened in shock as the young woman continued. "Who do ye think he'll turn to when he tires of pretendin' interest in ye? Ah, I see ye dinna know the way of it. Didna Alexander tell ye that the laird commanded he marry ye or be cast from the clan? His marriage to ye was arranged only because of the friendship of Laird MacGregor and yer Da. He cares naught fer ye."
She thrust her face closer and her lips twisted in a cruel smile. "The old laird wishes to see his son married to anyone of rank to continue the line. Alexander promised himself to me and would have told his Da so, if 'twere not fer ye! Ye are nay welcome here. Go back to the keep and make ready fer yer fine weddin'. But remember this. When Alexander beds ye, as he must do, 'twill be my face he sees and my name in his heart!"
White-hot anger surged through Katherine. In her rage, she paid no heed to the sounds of a rider approaching. She drew back her hand and slapped the woman.
The sound of the slap was lost in the noise of a horse being jerked to a halt. Katherine turned in time to see Alexander vault from his saddle, his handsome face creased in concern.
Fiona cried out as if in great fear and threw herself toward him. "Alexander, help me!"
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and scowled past her bent head. His icy green stare was more chilling than the frozen waters of Loch More. T
he deep growl of his voice matched the thunder rumbling in the distance. "Lady Gordon, if a lady you be, cease your attack! You have no right to strike this lass."
Pain and renewed anger surged through Katherine at the apparent disgust in his voice. Never had she been so humiliated. She fought to control her words. "So, what she says is true. Well, I won't take the leavings of a strumpet. I'll not marry you and live with your dishonor. You two may have each other. And the devil take you both!" Grasping the betrothal ring, she wrenched it from her finger and threw it in the mud at their feet.
Katherine grabbed up her skirts and ran back toward the keep, only once looking back. The sight of Fiona in Alexander's arms, their heads bent close together in whispered conversation, stabbed at her heart. She hurried around a bend in the road, barely missing a large muddy patch not yet dried from the previous night's tempest. Thunder filled the air with a deafening roar. Startled, she glanced up at the darkening sky as menacing clouds churned overhead. Before she could take another step, the heavens opened up, battering her with cold biting rain. Wind driven sheets of water pelted her face and mingled with her tears.
Unsuccessfully, she tried to wipe the blur from her eyes. It was nigh impossible to see. Suddenly she lost her footing and pitched forward as she stepped into a rut. Her heavy gown's sopping skirts wrapped around her legs. Her arms flailed desperately as she sought to regain her balance. Her slipper hit a rock, and she careened headlong into the mud.
Bruised and sobbing, she pulled herself free of the quick sand like grip of the oozing sludge and stumbled toward the castle. The wind shifted direction as the deluge continued, forcing her to fight for every step she took. Although the constant downpour washed away the majority of the mud, it left her drenched and shivering in the process.
The storm's return had emptied the bailey and courtyard of anyone who might have given her aid. Barely able to see through the driving shower, she dragged herself up the steps, and limped into the main corridor of the castle.
Monique rushed across the corridor with a gasp. "Mon Dieu! What has happened? What were you doing out in such a storm?"
Katherine clung to her and sobbed as her mother wiped her streaming hair from her face. "Cheri, what is it? Never have I seen you so troubled."
"Oh, Maman, I cannot marry Alexander! He has a… he cares naught for me."
"Shh, my darling. You are distraught. Surely it cannot be as bad as you think."
A young girl's voice called out from further down the corridor. "My lady, is aught wrong?"
Monique looked over her shoulder. "Gillian, come quickly. Lady Katherine was caught out in the rain and I fear she may become ill. I'll escort her to her chamber. Please go to the kitchen and request a soothing drink be made for her. Then hasten upstairs and prepare a hot bath for her."
"Aye, m'lady!"
Katherine stood shivering with cold, too weary to move.
Her mother tugged gently on her shoulders. "Come, mon cheri. Let us go to the privacy of your chamber. You must get warm. Then you can tell me what troubles you so. We will find a way to put aught right."
Katherine tried to blink away her tears with no success. How could she tell her mother of her shame? She trembled and nodded, incapable of speech. She moved forward slowly on leaden feet. Gradually, she ascended the stairs beside her mother. The dead weight of her clinging skirts dragged against her legs. The winding stairway fought her every step. Her exhausted limbs quivered under the effort. Sweet Mother Mary, help her. Wearily she gripped and pulled, then clung to the rope handrail fighting to remain standing after she hauled herself up. One more step. Another. Then the next.
By the time she sank onto the small stool before the fire in her chamber, her arms drooped limply at her sides. Her exhausted legs trembled beneath her gown and, faith, but her head throbbed.
The chamber door opened and Gillian entered carrying a steaming cup of spiced mead followed by four lads struggling with large buckets of equally steaming water. After the tub was filled and the lads left, Gillian and Monique helped Katherine remove her sodden clothing and assisted her to the tub. While Gillian stoked up the fire in the chamber, Monique washed Katherine's hair for her, just as she'd done when she was small. The warm water pouring over her head and shoulders eased the pain of her muscles and she stopped trembling. Eventually, the warmth of the hot bath and the calming elixir soothed her and she began to feel drowsy.
Monique smoothed the damp hair back from her daughter's forehead. "My darling, you must sleep now. Come, you will feel much better after you have rested."
Katherine quickly dried off before the blazing fire and slipped into a soft woolen gown.
Outside, the rain slowed to a steady patter. The thunder rumbled low as it moved off into the distance. Katherine glanced at her bed. The thick woven blankets and furs were turned back invitingly. A warming stone lay nestled among the linen sheets. She moved toward it on leaden feet. When she lay down, the soft surrounding warmth enveloped her and she felt her tension slowly fade away.
Monique tucked a thick fur around her and said, "Now, cheri, tell me what has happened."
Tears threatened to begin anew. Katherine forced them back and feigned a calm she no longer felt. "Maman, I am weary and 'tis too difficult to speak of. Only know I would not sever the betrothal without just reason."
Monique sat in silence for several minutes.
As Katherine drifted into a troubled sleep, she heard her mother's voice as she headed toward the doorway.
"Mon Dieu. Something must be done."
Chapter Six
The late afternoon sun shone through the window of Ian's chamber as Alexander entered. It had been two days since Fiona and Katherine's confrontation. He'd hunted alone in the hills to give himself time to sort his thoughts. "Da, William said you wished to speak with me."
"Aye! Come in and close the door behind you."
Alexander emerged a short time later, his jaw tightly clenched. He climbed the stairs to Katherine's chamber and firmly knocked on the door. While he waited for an answer, he thought of things he would like to say but couldn't. He raised his arm to knock again when the door opened.
Katherine's startled expression reminded him of a frightened deer, aware of the hunter and on the verge of flight. 'Twas apparent she hadn't intended to see him. She gripped the edge of the door as if she thought to slam it closed.
Alexander tried not to scowl. Remorse for her apparent unease and frustration with their situation sat poorly in his gut. He cleared his throat and forced himself to smile. "My lady, I have come to ask you to walk with me in the garden. It… it would give us a chance to speak peaceably and… become accustomed to each other. Will you join me?"
A look of resignation washed across her face. She looked at him in silence for a long moment before she answered. "Aye, if you wish it."
Her small hand trembled in his as he led her down the stairs and outside. The rain soaked land had mostly dried. As long as they stayed on the garden's gravel paths, they would have no problems walking. He released her hand. They walked side by side without touching again.
The air smelled crisp and clean. The golden glow of late afternoon bathed the riotous shrubs and overgrown vines, which threatened to choke out the few scattered flowers bravely dotting the dense growth.
He frowned, noticing the garden's obvious neglect. It had been well kept the last time he'd seen it. But then, it had been a long time since he'd wanted to walk through his mother's favorite place. Someone would answer for this.
"Oh what a shame." Although Katherine's face was turned away from him, he still heard the wistful note in her voice.
He followed her gaze and noticed the stone sundial lying on the ground. "Och, lass, 'tis no problem. I will set it aright."
As he walked toward it, Katherine said, "The other morn I watched two lads stand it up, but it must be broken. They put a stone under it to steady it."
"Aye, 'tis broken. It happened years ago when William and I us
ed it for battle practice as young lads." He grinned for a brief moment. "Och, but Da was furious with us for breaking it. 'Twas Mam's favorite piece in the garden. We were not allowed near the garden for months after that." Alexander bent down and easily lifted the solid stone pedestal and wedged a small rock beneath it. "There. It should stand now."
As he dusted his hands off, he looked back at Katherine and smiled. The tension he'd felt earlier, dissolved as she gave him a nervous smile in return. But when she quickly looked away, a deep blush spreading across her face, his bemused mind sought a reason. He didn't have long to ponder. A stiff breeze rustled through the garden. It sent a cool chill high up his right thigh.
Damn. Surely not.
He glanced down at his kilt. Sure enough, the edge of it was caught on a bramble beside him. The side of his leg from his knee to just below his hip stood there proudly displayed. The heat of the sun diminished in comparison to that warming him from his neck to his forehead. He snatched his kilt free and hurriedly smoothed it back in place. Aye, someone would indeed pay for the garden's neglect. As soon as he could think of a way to speak of this without becoming even more the butt of the joke.
Alexander checked his kilt once more as Katherine walked a few paces away. After making sure it covered him from his waist to where it ended just above his knees, he hurried after her. Silently, he fell into step. He glanced about the area. What could he say? There must be something he could talk about to end this damned embarrassment. "Tell me lass, would you like to know the story of this castle? 'Tis an interesting one to be sure."
Her glance met his for a moment. Then she looked away. "Aye, if you wish to tell it."
"When my parents were first wed, they lived in Castle Ironwood. They were quite happy there. After a year, Da was called to Scone, to give service to the king. Since his attendance at court was only to last a fortnight, Mam remained behind at Castle Ironwood. I have been told when he returned, she was so overjoyed they remained in their chamber for a sennight before they joined the rest of the clan. Uh, 'twould seem neither of them wished to be parted for a moment."
Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1) Page 8
