Harald looked around him, “Who among this lot did ye dislike the most?”
She lifted her eyebrows. He seldom wanted to ken anything like that about her, or her past. She had debased herself for so many years since she came to Dun Bhuird after her parents died in a fire, and the one who had taken most advantage of it had been Kathryn’s mother. She had hated her, and that hatred had filtered down to her children. “Kathryn’s mother. She’s buried in the middle of them.” Her eyes flicked to the small cairn.
“Is she? That’s appropriate. Ye can rest yer hands on her cairn.”
She caught her breath, hesitant yet excited at the same time. “It’s so light tonight. Someone might see.”
“Even better. Think of the thrill,” he said, walking into the centre of the burial ground.
She knew she daren’t say him nae. He was her weapon, her means of revenge. Even so, she was having second thoughts as he stood waiting for her.
“Dinnae tell me yer frightened of ghosts.”
“I dinnae believe in them.” Nae, if she was frightened at all it was of the living, and then not o’er-much, she thought as she walked toward Harald, who had unwound his plaid, dropping it on the grass before stripping off his shirt.
Naked, he picked up the belt he used to fasten his plaid and stood waiting for her with it in his hand. Not for the first time she pondered on what he had got up to with his cousins over the mountains in Caithness.
“Dinnae bother to take off yer kirtle, just bend over the stones and I’ll push it up to bare you.” She could hear a smile in his voice and it made her tremble as he told her, “I ken fine how ye like a nice wee tickle.”
A week finally passed afore Gavyn and Kathryn set out for the lochan—a week that set their rapport back at least a month. And Gavyn hadn’t any notion what had happened to make it so. He was depending on this outing to re-establish their liaison at the level they had shared in her stillroom.
Oft times he found his mind wandering back to the absolute rightness of their sharing, mind and body. Ach, it wasn’t as if their nights had changed in any great respect. They still made love every night and more than a single time. However, he couldn’t get past the feeling that something was missing, felt a lack.
And he didn’t like that.
Didn’t like knowing he might have lost something important.
Their steeds were already below the rim. Rob, Jamie and Nhaimeth had saddled his grey stallion and a pretty white palfrey for Kathryn, and meanwhile everyone waited for her to arrive while a perfectly good day went to waste.
He strode between the huge double doors with a minimal nod to the housecarls guarding it. They forgot, however, to hide their smiles, having watched him wait for Kathryn to join him.
He’d practically walked the full-length of the hall when she emerged wearing a dark grey kirtle under a blue tunic and carried a blue velvet cloak over her arm instead of the ubiquitous Scotswoman’s plaid. Her eyes widened as she saw him, and for a moment her hand reached out hesitantly as if to touch him afore it dropped to her side.
“I had almost decided you had changed your mind,” he said, his unease adding a little bite to his tone that he regretted as soon as her expression put an invisible distance between them.
“It’s still quite early since it isn’t as if we’re going to Cragenlaw and the likes way over on the coast. We have all day, for I had the cook put up some bread and cold meat.” He offered his arm, but she appeared not to notice and he could have sworn it was a deliberate omission until she admitted, “I couldn’t decide what to wear, for it’s more than a year since I last rode a horse. We went to Cragenlaw thinking to see Astrid’s new babe.”
He hadn’t realised she had kept so close to Dun Bhuird for all those years, at least three, but all he said was, “We can take it easy, though I expect the lads will want to go off on their own for a bit of a ramble while we wander around the lochan, sit under a tree, listen to the birds.”
“That sounds peaceful, The dun has been in a stir since you came back—first knowing all that silver and gold is under our very feet, so to speak, then you were wounded and Grogan was murdered a day later. We never had anything like that happen at Dun Bhuird afore. My head’s been spinning.” Somewhere on the way to the door she took his arm, but he forbore to act as if he noticed or to take umbrage at the suggestion that all Dun Bhuird’s problems could be laid at his door.
“Be pleased I refused to let the lads bring one of them huge mastiffs with us to go looking for some wild pigs. I said they could search around the forest for anything worth tracking, and if they found any trails they could come back on another day. It’s because of Grogan’s murder that it’s no longer safe to travel through Dun Bhuird without a bit of extra protection.” He couldn’t help chuckling. “Besides, taking the lads instead of housecarls doesn’t make it look like I’m running scared, for I wouldn’t like to put that notion in anyone’s head.”
He stopped walking to look down at her. “All that silver I brought back from France was supposed to serve a purpose—a curtain wall and a Keep intended to make sure Dun Bhuird could be kept safe. It wasn’t meant to bring a mass of troubles upon us, but men are greedy and that much silver is a temptation, whether it’s a single mercenary’s share or the hoard that belongs to us.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers, uncaring who watched, and there were a fair few interested in Farquhar’s business. But he was unconcerned as he shook out Kathryn’s cloak and pulled it around her shoulders. “I knew this would look lovely on you when I first saw it in France.”
A few moments later, he lifted her high, his big hands on her tiny waist as he helped her onto the white palfrey’s saddle then handed her the reins. “I don’t recognise this horse,” she said, patting her mount’s neck. “It’s a pretty wee beast.”
“It’s new, a present for my wife, and I’m assured it doesn’t have a wicked bone in its body, so I have no worries on that account.” He grinned at her, and used what she had told him earlier, saying, “I understand the poor lass has hardly left Bienn á Bhuird for years, but that can now be remedied.”
The smile he received for giving her the simple gift of a horse made him wish he had thought of that earlier, such as when he first returned to Dun Bhuird.
“I’d like that,” she told him, “especially if you can find the time to accompany me.”
He seldom practiced courtly manners unless they were necessary, for he was no gentle parfit knight, but in Kathryn’s case, saying, “Anything to please my lady,” came as naturally as breathing. As they rode off together toward the lochan, he had hopes of narrowing the distance that had begun to yawn betwixt them without his knowing the reason.
She had forgotten how wonderful it felt to ride a horse—the freedom of travelling across the now bare fields, a layer of gold stubble showing dark brown soil betwixt the rain-flattened stems. They took it gently, a canter that suited the bairn inside her—she thought she had inside her. Every time she looked at Gavyn—strong, upright, his shoulders wide and straight—she wondered about the bairn. If it were the son that Gavyn craved, would he be an image of his father or shorter, bulkier, as her father had been?
The Bear had never been the height Gavyn was, not even before his shoulders stooped when he thought no one was watching. The one thing they had in common was the aura of power that surrounded them.
If he discovered she had denied him knowledge of her suspicions, he wouldn’t be best pleased. For now, only she and Lhilidh knew the secret. Kathryn determined to keep it that way until she was certain that all the nights he spent loving her body was about more than getting her with child.
The distance frae the hall would have been a fair walk, but their horses soon ate up the ground—that was until they entered the trees that surrounded the far end of the lochan. They finally slowed to a walk, letting Gavyn’s nephew, Rob, and his two friends catch up with her and Gavyn.
Rob rode on the side farther away frae Gavyn. Normally she had li
ttle to say to the lad, but today she made an effort. “Is it true you caught that lovely trout we had for dinner the other night? Such a nice change it was frae the usual venison and beef. With autumn rushing upon us, we’ll soon be tired of eating meat for every meal. Will you be fishing again today? I’m sure Nhaimeth remembers all the best places.”
Before answering, he leaned forward and caught Gavyn’s eye, as if seeking approval before he said, “We were going to ride farther into the trees and look for signs of wild boar. I wanted to bring a dog, a mastiff, but Gavyn said no. Mayhap another day,” he grinned at her, showing a line of strong teeth, and at that instant, she thought there wasnae a soul in the world who would deny Rob was the McArthur’s son. Then he made a jest, “A day when we have nae ladies to look after.”
Kathryn refused to be offended that they thought she was spoiling their enjoyment. She simply said, “If you get a few we can salt some to eat at Yule. I don’t know about Gavyn, but I would like that.”
“So would we all,” added Gavyn. “If you discover some tracks, we could bring the dogs out for a day and make fine sport of it. Kathryn’s right, we’ll be eager for a wee bit of variety come Yule.”
She wondered if Gavyn had noticed her growing fascination with food. She had just begun to ponder it herself but supposed it was Mother Nature’s way of making sure the bairn was born healthy. At first she thought he had noticed, frae the way he looked at her, his eyes intent, expectant. “What do you reckon, Kathryn? It’s a while since I had to think of winter as more than rain and mud, but I’m certain that Dun Bhuird will get more than its fair share of snow and we’ll be bound inside the hall because of the depth of the drifts.”
“When I was young it seemed to be fun with the snow up to our knees and the laughter over floundering around in it. Responsibilities change all that. Now all I wonder is whether we’ll be able to feed all yon mouths at the Dun.”
Rob grinned again and it was infectious as he told her, “Not to worry. There will be three less when we go back to Cragenlaw. Morag likes me with her at Yule, and young Ruthven’s mother will give him a skelp round the ear if he isn’t with her to lend his father a strong arm to help carry in the log.”
She retuned his smile, enjoying herself in a way she hadn’t since Astrid and Alexander had still been part of her life. “And what about Nhaimeth. He used to live at Dun Bhuird, will he be staying?”
“Without me, never. Where I go, Nhaimeth goes. We’re like brothers.” Rob looked fierce. He didn’t shout, but his hands tightened on the reins and his mount noticed and began sidling toward her. She could have said, ‘I used to have a brother’, but to bring that up would spoil what was verging on being a grand day, and there were so few of those.
As if he read her thoughts, Rob acted as if he wanted to make amends. “Besides, I couldn’t leave him at Dun Bhuird. One of yon drifts might swallow the wee man up.”
She was aware Nhaimeth was listening, but the smirk on his lips showed he felt no insult at being called a wee man. But then it was the truth, and if she remembered anything about Nhaimeth it was his innate honesty, no matter if it had come in the form of a jest.
The private wee bay Nhaimeth led them to was perfect, sheltered with the water reflecting the broad leaves of the oaks and more spiky alders as the breeze caught the topmost branches.
Gavyn lifted her down and the lads saw to their mounts. “This rock looks just made for a seat. Good planning on the lads’ part. I must commend them.”
“I doubt the lads had sitting in mind. When they were last here it was fish they were after,” she whispered in his ear as he seated her.
His brows rose, amused, and the sun shone through the leaves, so all she saw was his outline, the scent that told her he was her husband, and she realised she couldn’t see his scar but no longer did when she was with him. Her heart turned in her chest, aching. Her ears rang, and she almost didn’t hear him as he asked, “Should, I ask Nhaimeth to teach me how to guddle for trout?”
She shook her head, unable to speak at first, as she had lost her breath. “Let them go. I want to us to be alone.”
His eyes smouldered, and a sigh shuddered from his mouth, brushing her cheek like a kiss—a kiss he wouldn’t give her until the lads had gone. “I want that too. You and me, my lady, and a place in the sunshine where we can be alone. There is naught I want more. At Dun Bhuird, unless we’re in bed, there is always someone watching.”
Kathryn touched his hand, felt it tremble. “Aye, Laird … you and me … alone,” she agreed.
In the fashion of young lads, the three of them ate the meal of bread, cheese and venison fast, always as if it were their last. They washed the lot down with flasks of ale afore returning to their horses and riding off into the forest to investigate animal tracks. And, aye, they were right, their options might have been easier with a mastiff at the end of a strong plaited leather leash. Being normal lads, they were aware that such a virile adjunct to their adventure would draw all eyes to them especially those of the lasses.
The ugly brute hadn’t suited Gavyn’s plans. A few days ago, while clouds had hung low and grey over the mountains circling Bienn á Bhuird, and in lieu of a day in the sun, he offered to take her down to the caves and show her the bounty his men had fought hard to acquire. Some had given their lives—a sacrifice he didn’t take for granted.
Kathryn had given a delicate shudder—not at the sacrifice but at the dogs. He had heard stories were going around the Dun about the fearsome beasts, and he had done naught to dismiss them. It suited him fine if folk were scared to go into the caves.
Kathryn’s fears he laid at Lhilidh’s door. The lass filled Kathryn’s ears with all the tidbits no one else would dare tell her. However, the wee bits of nonsense had put paid to his plans for that day.
He’d had to wait, but it had been worth it. “Tell me about the lochan. Did you come here much with Astrid and Alexander?”
She smiled and nodded, “We learned to swim here.”
“You can swim. Ach, that’s wonderful. You can teach our sons,” he slapped his thigh with glee imagining Kathryn in the lochan, not naked but with her shift, very fine shift, clinging to her soft curves. “Not many women can swim. At least not highborn ones.”
“No one ever treated us as if we were highborn, or anything special, except our Alexander.” She looked down at her hands; they rested on her lap, her fingers curling as she began to speak. “He held my father’s heart in his hands. His perfect son. I remember him saying that of Alexander often and often. Being an only son, the Bear tried to shape the lad in his own image.”
“I don’t think he succeeded.” He picked up her hand, lifted it to his lips and laid a kiss upon it. Her skin tasted sweet and fresh, like the herbs she worked with. “The Bear would never have given his life for a friend the way Alexander did. Your brother was a hero. He would have made a fine chieftain, but fate intervened and you and Dun Bhuird were sent to me instead. I know you blamed the McArthur and me, but if anyone was at fault it was my brother.” Gavyn lifted her hand and placed it flat against his scar. The heat of her hand made it tingle. “We didn’t ask for this, but if we pull together, Dun Bhuird can become the mighty hall your father wanted and our sons will inherit.”
Her eyes were focused on his. The blue might have been plucked from the sky, and he read concern in the reflection of clouds scudding past. “I’m a different lassie frae the one you married. She was determined she didn’t need anyone—any husband. I’ve grown up since you went away after our wedding. I know I can’t do everything by myself. The men don’t want to listen but I hoped, was hoping, I could help you in some way. This is my home. There must be more you would like from me than a bedmate—not that I’m unhappy with that. You are a lusty lover—generous—and mayhap you can extend your generosity to sharing a wee part of Dun Bhuird with me.”
A feeling of euphoria burst inside his chest, swelled until it pressed his heart. The emotion brought with it a realisation that
he wanted more. Of what he wasn’t certain, yet he felt as if it were just within his grasp. Kathryn was just within his grasp, yet an innate sense warned him to take care. Such intensity might scare her.
He chuckled softly and, pulling her into the circle of his arms, said, “You do help me, but I admit we could share more than you tending to the sick and listening to complaints. I’ve allowed the tedious jobs to fall to you, but that can change. I don’t know all the clansfolk yet, don’t have your knowledge. You can teach me about them, and mayhap we will avoid another dreadful murder over a woman. We need to integrate them, your clan and mine so to speak. We didn’t start well. That has changed. We have all our lives to turn Malcolm Canmore’s command to our advantage. What say you?”
Her warm moist breath dewed inside the neckline of his shirt. “Aye, Gavyn. Let’s promise to try. Betwixt us we can build a strong family with the sons ye want.”
As he held her, gradually her scent spun a web over his senses, blood flowed into his groin, his cock eager and hard, but today was about learning each other, not loving … not yet. He released her and stepped back. Whipping the tail of his plaid out frae under his belt he pulled his linen shirt up over his head and threw it onto the grass. “Time to show me how well ye can swim lass.” He saw her glance around the small clearing; aye, she was no longer a child. “Come,” he said, “there’s no one around to see us.” He put his hands on her waist and began to loosen her girdle to allow him to remove her kirtle. “For the sake of modesty your shift can remain on, but everything else comes off.”
Soon she stood afore him in naught but her shift, the linen so fine he could see through it, see the curve of her hips as the sun shone behind her.
“My turn.” Her fingers worked on his belt buckle, and once loosened, she made no attempt to catch the folds of his plaid as it fell. Instead she stared. His arousal stood tall, hard, and flagrant in its need for her. She reached for him and his resolution faltered at her touch. “You … you are a fine figure of a man. Handsome, comely—”
Chieftain By Command Page 17
