Mairi smiled at his flattering words. ‘My thanks, Ranald Barclay. And to you. I hope the years have been kind to your family also.’ She couldn’t truthfully remember when they’d met nor who or how many made up his family. But as she’d hoped, her words prompted him to enlighten them all.
She leaned back in her seat to listen and allow all sitting at the table a clear view of one another.
‘I appreciate you asking, Lady Mairi. My brother, Laird of Barclay is well, as are my two older sisters. It is my troublesome younger brother who causes our family more grief than is fair.’ The slow shake of his head and the smile lifting the corners of his mouth belied the seriousness of the matter.
Mairi had now renewed her acquaintance with the three worthy men her father had chosen to court her. Despite the voice whispering that none were the kind of man she truly wanted, she needed to get to know each of them so she could do her duty and choose one to wed. Although the choice was hers alone, she couldn’t help wondering what Duff thought of them all.
***
Duff wasn’t impressed with any of the men Mairi had to choose from to wed.
Added to his opinion was the disbelief that his one small lie about who he was reared its ugly head the moment Ranald Barclay neared the laird’s table. Of all the Highland men Alastair Gordon had chosen to court his daughter, Duff couldn’t believe one was brother to a laird who had offered Duff lodging as payment for work, after his enquiries about his origins had turned up naught.
Ranald had been away from Barclay Castle for the sennight Duff had spent thatching roofs in the village nearby. He’d only returned the day Duff had been taking his leave to begin heading south. Duff had passed Ranald in a group of others as he’d ridden out of Barclay’s gates. They’d exchanged glances and Duff hadn’t given the man another thought. Until now.
He’d met and seen and watched many Highlanders for close to a year while he’d been searching for his origins. But the instant Ranald had looked at him, grey eyes narrowing, Duff’s mind had leapt to the name he’d given Alastair, and knowing he didn’t have a true name to share with anyone again brought his sense of loss to the fore.
Despite being a stranger, Alastair Gordon had trusted him enough to protect his daughter, a woman who inspired him to do all in his power to impress her even though he was a man with no name and unworthy of pulling out her chair.
Duff forced himself to relax where he stood in the shadows cast by the wall at his back. Three filled, yet unlit, braziers lined the same rear wall, ready to warm those seated at the laird’s table when the weather cooled. Duff studied the visitors sitting at the high table. Two were old enough to be Mairi’s father. The third had a self-confidence streak wider than Loch Ness. Was Alastair Gordon’s list of suitable men and acquaintances so poor these were actually the best options he’d had to offer Mairi? What requirements had these men needed to receive an invitation to start with?
All had an air of confidence about them that confirmed they had the right to be here. None were lairds. Every one of them had family. All had a family name.
Still, Duff wasn’t impressed with any of them.
Mairi needed and deserved to be courted by someone of younger years, someone nearer her own age. Someone who wanted her for the woman she was, not the lands she owned. Someone who didn’t care about the size of her castle or what her name was. Having failed in his quest, Duff hoped to find a woman who didn’t care what his name was, or even if he had one.
Though her suitors hadn’t been here long, Duff couldn’t help wondering which one of the three chosen men had impressed Mairi the most.
To best protect Mairi, Duff needed to learn her actions and reactions. She was a woman who did her best to mask her feelings behind an emotionless façade. But standing guard behind her high-backed chair robbed him of seeing her facial expressions, so he’d watch for the small things. Clutching fingers. Rigid posture. Upthrust chin. Clenched jaw.
At this moment only her fingers were open to his view and they were relaxed upon the timber armrest of her chair. A good sign.
In the short time he’d known Mairi, he didn’t think of her as a woman who blushed often, unlike Lachlan Elliot’s spirited wife, Kenzie. But then Duff believed the redness constantly flooding Kenzie’s cheeks was more likely to do with what Lachlan whispered in her ear rather than due to simple flattery. The thought made him wonder how his laird and all the others fared. It had been almost a year since he’d left Redheugh Castle and this wasn’t the first time he realised just how much he missed them all.
He’d see them all soon. Once he’d completed his duty here.
Part of him, the part that wished he’d known exactly what he’d be protecting Mairi from, wanted to leave now. Watching over the woman who’d managed to intrigue and confuse him all at once, while she was being courted by three men, wasn’t something he was looking forward to doing. He couldn’t help wondering had he known the precise details about his duties, if he’d have accepted Alastair’s offer or refused and taken his leave. He also couldn’t help thinking that Alastair had intentionally kept the important details from him.
But he had accepted and his honour demanded he see it through. Once his task here was done, he’d ride south, meet up with Dair and Cal and return to clan Elliot.
He turned his mind from the Borders to the here and now and scanned the high table’s occupants. Having her father present and steering the conversation no doubt put Mairi at ease. But her father wouldn’t always be present, and while Duff was assigned as her personal guard it would be left to him to ensure her safety at all times.
A duty Duff saw as being both a pleasure and a curse.
Chapter Nine
Mairi’s first day surrounded by men vying for her hand wasn’t as onerous as she’d imagined. Once the introductions and morning meal were done, Douglas had shown the two latest arrivals to their chambers above to freshen up and settle their belongings. Having arrived the night before, Angus Hay remained at the table with her father and herself. Her personal guard stood close by.
Meeting at the hall’s entrance a short time later, their small group descended to the bailey and their host, her father, gave them a tour of Castle Gordon’s inner grounds and outbuildings. A sensible plan as, once Mairi made her choice, one of these men would be staying on here. A great responsibility and honour for the man she chose and the reason why it was so important for her to choose well.
The fresh air and simply moving was a relief for Mairi. It allowed her to escape the constant attention she’d been given while sitting idle at the table.
Despite knowing why these men had come to Gordon, curious eyes followed their progress as the six of them strolled about the bailey. They stopped frequently to enable her father to point out what each building was and to introduce his guests to the armourer, tanner and washerwomen as they went.
The stable lads ran out to catch a glimpse of the visitors before darting back inside to complete their chores. The men at arms stopped sword training in the practice yard as the small group halted and her father introduced her prospective husbands to their leader, Iain.
His glare took in all three suitors, but looked more fierce as it settled on Duff. What had happened between the two to cause Iain such a dislike of Duff? Her temporary protector appeared to inspire a sense of competition with every man he met.
Not so the women. Every one of them stood, hands idle, head tilted to one side as their gazes climbed Duff’s length and then lowered, several times over. They noticed the other men in their group, but their eyes soon returned to Duff. And stayed.
Mairi couldn’t fault them. She’d caught herself staring numerous times, and it was only after near colliding head first into Ranald Barclay’s back that she’d gathered her wits enough not to look at Duff again. She silently hoped no one, especially Duff, had noticed.
She’d already looked the fool when she’d tripped over the pitchfork in the stable yesterday. How was she to assure her father, her
clan and her future husband that she was capable of leading the Gordon’s if anyone saw her looking wild and clumsy? It was imperative that she appear calm and in control at all times. Strong, never weak. It was also important that she remain aware of everything going on within the clan. She’d question Duff about the tension between him and Iain later, when no one else was about to overhear.
A tiny shiver erupted in her belly at the thought of being alone with Duff.
She clenched her hands, desperately wanting to know what it was about this stranger from the Borders that made her feel so out of sorts, when she fought so hard to appear otherwise?
Whatever it was, she told herself it didn’t matter. Duff was her personal guard and she needed to see him and treat him as such.
Her first opportunity to prove to herself that she could came at the start of the noon meal. When Duff would have resumed his place behind her while she ate, she summoned Douglas to her.
‘Have a place set at the end of the laird’s table for my personal guard.’ The steward nodded and left to see it done.
She turned and beckoned Duff with her hand. He approached and she couldn’t help admiring his walk. ‘You may take the noon meal with Douglas at the end of the table.’
‘As you wish.’
Mairi drank in the sound of his soothing tones as she studied his handsome face. He watched her intently. She wanted to share her true wishes. In the short time she’d barred herself from looking at him, she’d missed the sight of him. She wanted to continue looking at him and longed to hear him say more. All foolish, wasted thoughts.
Instead, she forced herself to turn and take her seat on her father’s right. For this meal, Angus Hay took the chair beside her, Ewan Strachan sat on her father’s left and Ranald Barclay next to him.
During the meal of roast pheasant, smoked ham, greens and warm brown bread, Castle Gordon’s guests took turns at praising all they had seen, including the food they now consumed. All three asked questions about the running of the castle and at times her father left it to her to answer, highlighting her abilities and involvement with Castle Gordon’s daily needs.
She was proud to share her knowledge concerning the people, the food stores and the general upkeep, but the moment the conversation veered to weaponry and the protection of Clan Gordon, she directed their attention back to her father.
The safekeeping of her clan was one area she refused to take charge of. How could she after what she had done? This was also the reason she hadn’t argued too strenuously about her newly appointed personal guard.
She sipped her watered wine, leaned back in her chair and glanced along the table to where he now sat. His dark eyes were already resting on her. Would he be so vigilant guarding her if he knew she’d been the cause of her own mother’s death? Only Mairi and her father had lived to tell the tale. As far as she knew, her sire hadn’t spoken of that horrid day to another soul and Mairi never could. The next day, Balfour had been assigned as her personal guard.
A yawning emptiness invaded her chest. The sudden need to see Balfour swept over her. She drained her goblet. The moment there was a break in the conversation about the guard-watching routine, she stood and excused herself to check on the injured. All the men found their feet, then resumed their seats as she left. Except one.
She reached the healing room, stopped in the doorway and turned. ‘I will not be long. Please wait for me in the hall.’
‘Are you alright?’
She’d expected him to reply as you wish, not ask after her wellbeing. She obviously needed to work harder at concealing her feelings.
‘Of course.’
‘Good.’ He said not looking away. ‘I will await you here.’
Despite the relaxed expression he now wore, in the short time she’d known Duff she’d come to recognise this particular look as one of determination. He wouldn’t be moving from this doorway until she quit the room.
‘Very well,’ she conceded. She turned and entered the healing chamber in search of the man who’d never unsettled her by merely showing his concern. If only Balfour hadn’t been wounded, then there would have been no reason for Duff to stay longer than the initial one night.
Another wasted thought.
She halted beside Balfour’s pallet and peered down at her sleeping personal guard. Balfour had done his duty and had been injured in the process. She too would do her duty and bear any wounds along the way. The only difference would be any scars she sustained would remain unseen.
Duff was her personal guard, nothing more. He was doing what he’d been hired to do, his duty. The sooner she chose a husband, the sooner Duff would leave Castle Gordon. All she needed to do was concentrate entirely on her suitors. There were three of them and only one Duff.
How hard could it be?
Balfour chose that moment to stir from sleep. Mairi sank onto the low wooden stool beside his pallet and grasped his warm hand. The tightening of his fingers sent relief through her and her smile for him came true and fast.
‘How are you feeling, Balfour?’
‘Never better, lass,’ he rasped. ‘You?’
Balfour’s inner strength and concern for her, despite his painful injury, pinched her heart. ‘I’m fine.’
Little more was said during the hour she sat by his side, but words weren’t needed. Not for Mairi. She was simply happy being near Balfour as he drifted in and out of sleep and knowing he was healing every moment. She couldn’t wait for him to fully recover and return to his duties watching over her.
When his snores deepened and lengthened, she carefully removed her hand from his and stopped by Nairn’s pallet to check on him. He too slept and, with gentle fingers, Mairi drew his woollen blanket higher over his chest.
With a quick word concerning her father’s cough to Tavie, who sat in the farthest corner of the healing room crushing fragrant leaves with her pestle, Mairi headed for the door. Despite forcing herself to not look in Duff’s direction while she’d been inside the healing chamber, she’d known he hadn’t moved from the doorway.
She looked at him now and, as always, found him studying her.
Were her efforts to appear calm and unaffected successful? His look exuded such a raw intensity, she feared Duff of all people would recognise her ruse. So she forced herself to hold his dark, assessing gaze until she walked by him into the Great Hall and rejoined her father and her suitors at the laird’s table.
‘How do our wounded fare, Mairi?’ her father asked quietly, as he stood and settled her into her seat.
‘They are resting well and without pain,’ she quickly assured him. But the concerned creases about his mouth only lessened slightly. ‘They will be fine, Father,’ she added softly, and almost placed her hand over his.
Her words of assurance must have been enough. He looked at her a moment more, gave her a nod and turned to their guests. ‘To take advantage of such a glorious day, we will take a ride around the perimeter of Gordon lands.’
Mairi loved to ride, but the memories of her last ride, the attack on her father, being pursued and Balfour’s wounds came flooding back and soured the appeal. As did her father’s next words.
‘I’m sure you will all be impressed with Mairi’s riding skills.’ The proud glint in his eye told her he meant well. She was a good rider, but did he believe he had to point out her talents and qualities to impress the men who had already accepted his invitation to court her?
She wasn’t naive enough to believe these men were here solely to gain her hand. All were second or third sons and none would have the opportunity to own such grand lands without marrying her or another female heir. But a small part of her secretly hoped at least one of them saw her as more than a means of acquiring property.
She peered down at her clenched fingers, then looked up, only to meet Duff’s eyes. He already knew how good a rider she was; after all, he’d managed to catch her. But she couldn’t help wondering what Duff from the Borders thought of her as a prospective bride.
Duff had believed seeing Mairi’s face to gage her reactions would be an advantage, but witnessing her uncertainties was like a sharp blade to his flesh.
Her face was one of subtle expressions some might miss if noticing her flawless beauty alone. Her blue eyes and her shapely mouth spoke much more with every flicker and tiny shift of movement, but one had to be aware first to understand all that they saw. The hint of vulnerability he noted flashed quickly and was gone. Had the three men honoured to be sitting near her seen it?
Duff’s gaze swept over the occupants of the laird’s table. Judging by the way their attention was fixed on her father, he concluded they had not. Just as they had not noticed that Mairi had focussed on the Gordon people while walking Castle Gordon grounds with them. Alastair Gordon’s guests had paid more concern to the outbuildings they’d been shown rather than the woman who could gain them everything they viewed and more.
His initial gut impression of these men still stood. They might be worthy of her, but none were deserving.
They should at least recognise what Mairi needed most in a husband. A man of support. She was a complex woman who believed she didn’t need any form of help from anyone to fulfil her duty. She mistakenly thought to show how strong she was she needed to accomplish all on her own. If only she knew that the sharing of duties by like-minded people eased the burden, while strengthening the outcome of a common goal.
If he had the chance he would tell her.
Just then, Alastair Gordon gave him a nod to signal they were ready to leave the table. Duff stood and made his way to his charge just in time to pull out her chair. He then followed Mairi and her suitors out to the stables. Simple steps that suddenly reminded Duff of his reason for being here. He’d been hired to protect Mairi Gordon, not advise her on her beliefs. Best he remember.
With a long, quiet breath he watched the stablehands ready the mounts in the bailey, including Duncan. It was odd having someone else saddle his horse, but Duff’s first priority was Mairi. She stood to one side as a young lad had the honour of preparing her mount. The black mare tossed her head, attracting the attention of all three suitors. Like her mistress, she was a beauty. Unlike her mistress, she enjoyed being the centre of attention.
The Protector Page 9
