The question grated on Gavin's nerves as they entered the great hall where two long wood tables were arranged side by side. Another table of less length rested on a dais overlooking the hall. The seats were empty and the air drafty with no warm bodies in the room or a blazing fire in the hearth.
"Kind of eerie, isn't it?" Leith shook his shoulders and arms as if warding off a chill.
"Auld castles are like that. Ours doesn't have the same effect because we've grown up in it."
"True, but MacKenzie Castle isn't barren like this." Leith held out his hands and gestured to the dark corners and crevices. "Our rooms and hallways are filled with people, laughter, happy chatter, not this silence of the tomb."
Gavin grinned. One thing he could always depend on was Leith's lively outlook on life.
"Listen." Gavin strained to hear. The sound of a distant conversation echoed. A woman's high-pitched laughter ruptured. "This way." Gavin walked through a side door and followed a hall that emptied into a large room he assumed was the throne room.
A lady sitting in an elegant carved chair looked up from Iain MacBraigh standing above her. She wore a dark purple gown with a plaid underskirt. The large sleeves contained matching ribbon ties and puffed out in waving folds down to her wrists. She held a goblet in her hand as her gray eyes met his, and then turned to assess Leith. Her long, curly brown hair fell in ringlets around her shoulders.
While Iain made the proper introductions, Gavin noticed how her interest in Leith waned at the mention of the clan chieftainship and estate Gavin would inherit. She rewarded him with an even brighter smile. This time her eyes sparkled like diamond slits, but Gavin had no interest in a fortune seeker. Still, duty called for politeness and the best of manners.
"Pleased to make yer acquaintance, Lady Fiona Lennox." Gavin bowed.
"And I, my lady." Leith bowed beside Gavin.
"Ahh, so the MacKenzie brothers have finally arrived," said a male voice behind them. "I've been looking forward to meeting both of ye. Iain has told me such excellent things about ye."
Gavin and Leith turned. A middle-aged man stepped forward. He had gray hair and a full beard and mustache, and piercing brown eyes that measured them up and down. The man wore a tan tunic and a plaid of purple and dark blue as his daughter.
"May I present my cousin, Lord Hogan Lennox, the Earl of Caithness," Iain said.
While bowing, Gavin noticed the grim expression on the laird's face. His lips appeared tight and his tone harsh, as he cut a glance at the earl. "Thank ye for being understanding about my unexpected absence in touring the grounds. I trust Serena was able to show ye everything and answer yer questions?"
"Aye, she's a verra able lass."
"And may I ask who is Serena?" Lady Fiona looked from the laird to Gavin. She lifted her chin. "With a brood of brothers surrounding me each day, I welcome the acquaintance of another woman." She smiled, revealing a row of white teeth, but the warmth didn't reach her eyes. Gavin wondered if she struggled to hide something.
"Serena Boyd is a village lass who helps here at the castle," Iain said. "She's well-educated. She has a way with the servants in solving disputes. The lass has earned their respect and it seems that most would do almost aught for her." Iain sipped from his goblet. He motioned to the drinks on the side table. "Would ye like some wine?"
"Aye." Gavin nodded. A servant brought him a filled pewter goblet and handed one to Leith.
"So she's a commoner who works for ye. Mither doesn't allow me to associate with our servants. She says they'll teach me vulgar things."
"Fiona!" The earl's face darkened a shade. "That wasn't her exact words."
"Well, I can vouch for Serena's goodness of character," Iain said. "I've invited her to the welcoming party we're throwing on behalf of the MacKenzies. As my guest, I expect her to be treated with warmth and respect."
"Leith and I could put in a favorable word for her character as well," Gavin said.
"Indeed." Leith nodded. "I hope to take a turn with her upon the dance floor."
"Well, the first and the last dance are already promised to me." Gavin sipped his wine.
"However did ye do it?" Iain swung his head in Gavin's direction. "It took some time for her to agree to come. I thought I might have to resort to ordering her."
"Gentlemen, I'm not completely without charm." Heat burned Gavin's face, and he resisted the temptation to touch his flaming cheeks. He wouldn't be surprised if his skin color matched his hair.
"I must admit, I'm now quite curious to meet this Serena Boyd, especially since she has ye all enamored with her. She must be a verra special commoner." Lady Fiona exchanged a awry glance with her father. Gavin wasn't sure what it meant, but it put him on guard.
Serena and Cara leaned over their washboards and scrubbed linens with the lye soap Serena's mother had made a few days ago. They were on their knees in the grass by the loch as the gray sky dawned into morning. Gunna wasn't feeling well, so Serena had offered to take care of the chore before leaving for the castle.
"Thank ye for going with Gunna to the loch each day. I miss the time I used to have with her," Serena said. She lathered Gunna's plaid and turned it over to scrub the other side.
"I enjoy it. She's a delight and full of the latest news about ye. How else am I supposed to keep up with what's happenin' with ye?" Cara held up the white tunic she had just washed. "Did I miss any spots?" She stared in Serena's direction, trying her best to do her part.
"It's good and clean," Serena said, leaning over and inspecting the garment. "And what news might Gunna be telling ye?"
"That the laird has invited ye to a feast and dancing." A proud smile lit her face. A piece of brown hair flew into her eyes, and she wiped it to the side. "What if he falls in love with ye, Serena? What a grand life ye'd have. All the burdens yer mither and Gunna suffer would be but a trifle load compared to what they endure now."
"There's about as much chance of that as there is of him wedding Phelan. Nay, I won't even waste my time on such thoughts. Iain MacBraigh is merely uncomfortable hosting parties and entertaining people. He only wants me there to help, naught more."
"Are ye nervous?" Cara dumped the clean tunic in a woven basket. "I'd be. But ye have such fine manners and all the learnin' yer mither taught ye. I think ye'll be like a princess."
"Far from it. I don't even have a decent gown to wear. I canna even make anything. I've naught but scraps of fabric from previous gowns—work garments, really. I was hoping to find a wee bit of satin so that maybe Kyla could improve one of my other dresses."
"Did ye ask Kyla if she has some fine bolts of fabric? Of anyone in the village, I'd think she'd be the one to have it. Don't ye think?" Cara raised a dark eyebrow.
"I thought of that, but who around here would have requested Kyla to make such elegant gowns? Besides, I couldn't possibly afford such material." Serena sighed and shrugged. "I'll simply tell the laird I canna go. I wouldn't want to shame him." Her chest felt like a heavy stone.
"From what ye've told me about the laird, I doubt he would feel that way. He's verra much aware of yer poverty. He knows where ye live and what ye wear each day."
"But he's a man. I doubt he's even thought much of it." Serena finished rinsing the plaid and wrung out the excess water, twisting it as best as she could. "Which is why I must tell him today that I canna go." Serena dropped the garment in a basket with the other washed clothes. She dried her cold, dripping hands on her blue and green plaid skirt. "Are ye ready? We'd best be getting back. I'll need to hang these to dry and hurry to the castle."
"Aye." Cara felt around for her basket, grabbed it, and climbed to her feet.
Serena hooked her own basket under one arm and looped the other through Cara's. That way it would be easier to guide her friend.
"Gunna said that Gavin MacKenzie offered to give ye dance lessons for the laird's celebration. Is that true?" Cara asked.
"He did, but now it won't be necessary."
"I think it was thoughtful and
romantic." Cara tightened her grip. "How many men in our village would have offered to do such a thing?"
"Cara, most of the men in our village are auld, married, or wouldn't know how to dance."
"True. Mayhap that is why God has brought these other men to our village. To give us a chance at having our own families some day." Cara inhaled deeply and slowly released the air. "I confess, I'd almost despaired at finding a husband. Having a blind wife could be quite a burden to a man. But Craig, he doesn't treat me like that at all. He talks to me as if I matter." She smiled with a dreamy expression. "He even asks my opinion on things. He comes by and visits us often in the evenings."
Alarm bolted through Serena's heart. Cara had never confessed these secret desires. She got along so well in life with her blindness that Serena assumed Cara had accepted her limitations, as she had her shameful fits. Had they not jested about being two elderly maids, living together as sisters once their parents were gone? Serena had always believed it to be true. To now discover that Cara had been hoping and praying for a husband—a family of her own, stunned Serena. But why shouldn't she? Cara was a comely lass, intelligent, compassionate, and loyal. She would make a wonderful wife and mother. A sense of loneliness surrounded Serena.
"I haven't had much of an opportunity to talk to Craig, but if he has set his eyes upon ye, Cara Grant, then he is a man of excellent taste," Serena said.
Cara gasped. "I didn't mean to imply that he feels more than friendship. But I must admit, his attention and behavior toward me have awakened a new hope—that my blindness may not be the hindrance I've always feared. God works through people, Serena, even when they aren't aware of it."
"I confess—I've wanted them to leave, but it's only because I worry one of them might witness my fits."
"And that's what I mean." Cara tightened her grip on Serena. "If one of them does finally see a fit, it may prove to ye that someone other than us villagers might accept ye as ye are."
Serena felt like weeping. None of them had witnessed that woman being burned at the stake like she had. Most of the villagers were laughed at and teased, but none of them feared being murdered like she did.
8
Gavin and Craig stood outside Serena's home. The weathered door stood ajar, but he felt uncomfortable barging in. What if one of them was dressing? It was merely a one-room cottage with a small loft where Serena slept. The design didn't provide much privacy.
It was about half past dawn. Surely they would be up by now, but wouldn't he have already heard conversation? He thought about the murdered cow and the kirk fire. Fear slithered through him.
He glanced at Craig, who shrugged his shoulders and nodded his blond head. "Ye might as well knock," Craig whispered. "Ye've come this far."
"Who's there?" Evelina appeared at the door, wearing a simple brown gown and a plaid shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She held a lit candle, the wax dripping on a brass holder. Her concerned frown relaxed into a welcoming smile as she held up the light and recognized Gavin.
"Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Come in. Come in." She opened the door wider and waved them through. "Both of ye." She gestured to the table. "Please . . . sit down and break yer fast with us."
"Have we missed Serena?" Gavin glanced around the dark cottage and didn't see her. Snoring floated across from the bulky form on one of the box beds.
"Nay. Gunna isn't feeling herself today. She has a fever and so Serena did her laundry. She's out back hanging clothes. I just came in from collecting the eggs and milk. Ye're in time to join us. I hope Serena will eat before she leaves."
"We didn't mean to interrupt," Gavin said. "We're heading to town and wanted to stop by and see if ye needed anything."
"Thank ye for yer trouble, but we're fine," Serena said, standing on the threshold, an empty basket tilted to the side in her hand. She bristled as all eyes turned toward her. Gavin couldn't tell about the manner of her tone, but something seemed amiss.
"That's verra thoughtful of ye." Evelina awarded him with a smile. "I do believe there are a few items I'd like." She lifted her gaze to her daughter who still stood behind Gavin and Craig. "Serena, I hope ye'll stay long enough to eat. I was about to warm up some bread cakes and cook a few eggs."
Serena glanced at Gavin and then Craig. She chewed her bottom lip. "I'm already running late from doing the laundry."
"The laird is a reasonable man." Evelina bent, placing the bread cakes in a warming pot over the fire. "I'm sure if ye tell him about Gunna he'll understand."
"I agree," Gavin said. "Even though I haven't known him as long as ye, I've the same impression."
Gavin glanced at Craig and nodded toward the table. He strolled over and pulled out a chair, knowing Craig would follow his lead. "I thank ye for the offer of some bread cakes. Save the eggs for yerselves. Gunna may need the nourishment when she wakes."
Sighing, Serena strode over to the milk pail and picked it up. "I'll prepare the milk. We like to sweeten ours a wee bit."
Evelina pulled an iron pan from the fire and broke the eggs into it. "Are ye sure bread cakes are all ye want?" She asked, placing another pot in the fire. "I'm warming some stewed apples from last night's dinner."
"That sounds good." Craig rubbed his hands together.
Gunna rolled over and the rhythm of her snoring changed. Serena smiled before covering her mouth. Gavin enjoyed her amusement.
"I do not intend to be rude." She said to Gavin in a lowered tone. "But ye're always trying to do things for us. We already owe ye a debt of deep gratitude as it is."
Gavin pressed his hand against his heart with a thump, turning to his friend. "Craig, the lass has mortally wounded me. I thought my chivalric attentions would have been more appreciated." He glanced up at her mother.
"A young lass often needs a wee bit of time to make up her mind about things." She smiled as she turned over the bread cakes, her gaze sliding to her daughter's with purpose.
If only he could break through Serena's walled fortress. "There are plenty who could vouch for my fierce prowess on the battlefield if that would gain yer admiration." Gavin pretended to puff out his chest and lifted his chin.
"Oh, hush!" Serena said, rolling her eyes and covering her mouth to keep from laughing, but a prevailing smile broke through to Gavin's delight. It was as if his heart sang a ditty. How he loved to see her smile.
"I'm only trying to lighten yer mood." Gavin scratched his chin, wondering what had dampened her spirits so early this morning. It encouraged him to know he had succeeded in cheering her—if only a bit.
Evelina brought over a steaming bowl of stewed apples that teased his nose until his mouth watered and his stomach rumbled. He and Craig exchanged a wide-eyed look of excitement. Craig wiggled in his chair like a small lad, while Gavin linked his hands tight in his lap under the table to keep from digging in.
Serena brought them wooden cups and poured the milk. She leaned over his shoulder, her black hair draping over his arm. He inhaled the feminine scent of heather and juniper, closing his eyes to savor the moment. As she pulled back, her elbow brushed his arm. His eyes popped open.
"I'm sorry." Serena's voice softened and her cheeks stained to a rosy glow. She stepped around Gavin to Craig's side and filled his cup.
Evelina set out the bread cakes before them on a wooden platter. Steam rose in the air as the smell of butter enticed them. Gavin realized he was licking his bottom lip like a man who had never tasted a warm cooked meal. He clenched his jaw and waited for the women to settle in their seats across the table.
Making the sign of the cross, Evelina bowed her head. Serena did likewise, preventing him from reading her expression. Gavin and Craig peeked at each other. He shrugged, touched his forehead, chest, and each shoulder before also bowing his head.
Highland Sanctuary Page 12
