After an introduction like that Verena had no choice but to sink into a deep curtsy. Why did Cairn use such an elegant introduction on a low-born woman like her? Perhaps he felt it was important that Lady Ivone didn’t know her humble origins.
"My Lady," Verena said, rising to her feet. She forced herself to put on a pleasantly bland expression as the woman inspected her from head to toe. She wished she had the chance to bathe or comb her hair before their arrival. Her too-tight gown was soaked with dried blood and mud and she could feel tendrils of hair escaping from her plaits to drift in the light breeze. She forced herself not to pat them down lest the gesture be taken for a sign of nervousness. Though she didn’t flinch beneath the woman’s uncompromising stare, she had the uncomfortable feeling that she was being judged and found lacking.
Finally Lady Ivone nodded.
"Verena of Langthorne," she began curiously, examining her plain attire. "I’m sure there is a very interesting story about that."
"Which I will be happy to speak of tonight," finished Cairn loudly for the benefit of the onlookers. "For now let us rest and refresh ourselves. We have had a hard journey."
"Very well," replied Ivone, turning her attention back to the brothers. "You must be tired after your adventure. I had your usual rooms prepared and water is being heated for baths. If you will excuse me, I will escort our guest to her rooms in the northwest tower."
The strange choice of words immediately caught her attention. Why did she announce to everyone where she would sleep? Despite Cairn’s gracious introduction the lady must have reservations about her character. If she judged correctly Lady Ivone would put her as far away from her sons as possible.
After a long walk through the castle they finally stopped in front of an arched doorway. Verena’s earlier guess about their location was correct. They were far from the common rooms in a section that looked barely used. She would dare anyone to make improper assumptions about her relationship with Cairn now.
Her quick glance about the room was reassuring. These were no servant’s quarters. This room was obviously intended for a person of means. The furnishings weren’t as gaudy as some of the noble suites she had seen. This was the kind of room one gave a beloved cousin rather than visiting royalty. She thought it was perfect.
"If you require assistance," continued Ivone, gesturing to the silent maid that had entered behind them. "Roselyn will help you."
"Thank you," Verena replied gratefully. She never wore clothes she couldn’t get out of alone, but servants were notorious gossips and she needed to gather some information on this family.
As she left, Lady Ivone’s skirts brushed against the large hearth causing a poker to fall to the floor. Roselyn jumped and quickly crossed herself.
"Is something amiss?" Verena asked.
"Oh, ‘tis nothing to concern you, milady. The noise merely startled me."
"You seemed about to jump out of your skin."
"I suppose I did, milady. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but you seem like the sensible sort and I’m sure it won’t frighten you at all. It’s just that these rooms haven’t been used since the Old Lord passed away."
"I see," Verena replied with interest. "His rooms were close to mine?"
"Aye, almost directly beneath you. I don’t put much faith in children’s tales, but some of the other servants are fanciful."
"I don’t believe in fairy tales either," Verena said. "And I think this room is lovely. I’m sure I’ll get along splendidly here."
The young woman smiled, showing a large gap between her teeth.
"Shall I have a bath prepared?"
"Please do," she replied, startled by the request. Hadran continually stressed the importance of bathing. People who often had to sneak about in the dark couldn’t leave dirt stains and smells behind, but she knew many others didn’t share her needs. In the winter when fuel was scarce and a winter chill could easily become a life-threatening disease, many thought it wiser to avoid water. Verena was glad the McPherson household thought more like Hadran. With thick rugs beneath her feet, tapestries lining the walls to keep out drafts and a roaring fire in the hearth, she was not afraid of a cold.
"I’ll be back in a moment."
Roselyn scurried out of the room, eager to relate the news of Verena’s arrival to her friends in the kitchen. She was glad to finally be alone and have time to think about their strange arrival. What was she to make of the brothers’ sober reunion with Lady Ivone? It was more formal than any homecoming she had witnessed.
There was a void between Cairn and his people that developed when he was squired so far away. Perhaps it had something to do with Lady Ivone’s imposing figure. She had seen the way she stood apart from the common people and surmised the lady did little to bridge the gap between herself and the rest of the clan. She was disappointed that Cairn seemed to be following his stepmother’s example.
Was it because of social status? Gundy didn’t encourage familiarity with his people and ruled with fear and intimidation. Why then was she bothered by Cairn’s behavior? Her heart sank with the realization that after one kiss she had begun to think of him differently. She was beginning to forget that Cairn was a selfish noble just like Lord Gundy. She would do well to remember the truth as her assignment continued.
She would have to work hard to gain both Lady Ivone’s trust and the trust of the commoners. She had to be above reproach and indispensable to the household, able to move freely through the castle and countryside in order to find the treasure.
Chapter 14
Verena was looking around the bed for good hiding places when she heard a soft knock on the door. Soon Owen would deliver the various tools she would need to thoroughly search the castle and she needed a place to hide them from the cleaning staff.
She hastily smoothed back the covers and sat on the bed before the door opened. Roselyn had returned, ushering in a hall full of servants with hot water, soap, towels and a tub. This young woman definitely had the trust and respect of the servants, judging from their eager assistance. Their arrival must have sent the household into chaos, yet Roselyn diverted all these people from their duties to assist her, using hearths to heat bath water rather than the evening meal. That influence could come in handy during her search for the treasure.
An exquisite gown of pale gold velvet with wide sleeves trimmed with rich brown sable was draped on Roselyn’s arm.
"This is a present for you," Roselyn said, holding the gown up for her inspection.
"From Lady Ivone?"
"Nay, from his lordship."
Cairn sent her the lovely dress? He was a noble, laird of a Scottish clan. He didn’t need to send gifts to a low-born woman like her. Perhaps the dress was his way of thanking Verena for saving his life —or an apology for kidnapping her.
"I have never seen anything so beautiful."
Roselyn turned to shoo the gawking servants out of the room before helping her undress. Last time Verena had been in Roselyn’s place, posing as a lady’s maid for Anne of Brittany, the queen of France. Roselyn’s ministrations were nearly as skilled as the Queen’s fine ladies.
"Lady Ivone saw to my training," Roselyn said when Verena remarked upon it. "She says a well-trained staff is more impressive than fine tapestries and silver. Cairn’s mother didn’t stand much upon ceremony, but her ladyship insists upon it."
"Lord Gundy feels the same way," Verena replied. "There were so many rules to remember and God help us if we made a mistake in front of him or one of his guests."
"Sorry mum. We have heard of Gundy’s reputation. He sounds like a difficult man. Lady Ivone may be exacting, but Lord Angus, Cairn’s father was a dear, God rest his soul. He never beat us for our mistakes."
"In truth, I do not miss Gundy’s authority."
She sank gratefully into the steaming water, relishing the foreign luxury. Usually she made do with whatever icy stream was nearby. Hadran was obsessive about cleanliness, insisting that it was necess
ary for their profession, but she had never enjoyed her work with such decadence.
This wasn’t a barrel requisitioned for bathing. She sat in an oval tub built specifically for the task, contoured to allow her to stretch out comfortably and lined with linen cloth. A plank was set across the top where Roselyn placed small trinkets that she might enjoy while in the bath: a small splatter of food to nibble on, a hand mirror, a goblet of mulled wine and various scented soaps to choose from, painstakingly carved into flowers and animals. She chose a little bird scented with lavender.
She sighed as Roselyn’s magic fingers began to work out the knots coiled in her shoulders and the accumulated dirt from her hair.
"Milady," said Roselyn in surprise, referring to the tension in her taunt back muscles. "It seems you’ve had quite a journey."
You have no idea, thought Verena.
"I look forward to hearing laird Cairn’s tale this evening," continued the maid.
She pursed her lips as she remembered Cairn’s promise to tell of his travels. How would he explain her presence? Would she be portrayed as a damsel in distress? There was always the possibility that he had seen through her clever ruse and would publicly denounce her before his clan, but that seemed unlikely. If he didn’t believe her Cairn would have said something long ago. Besides, it was hard to worry about such things with Roselyn’s fingers rubbing away the tension from the journey.
"It is so strange to be here," Verena replied. She knew she should take advantage of this moment to learn more about the clan. "I have heard stories about this place all my life."
"Nothing good, no doubt," surmised Roselyn as she began working on her tangled hair.
"Some good and some bad. I’ve heard legends of Cairn’s grandfather; about his knowledge of the dark arts and how he conjured the lost Roman silver."
Roselyn snorted, obviously familiar with the tale.
"Unfortunately he never passed on the secret," she replied, then hastily crossed herself in case she offended some lingering spirit. "My da says anyone that believes such tales is foolish, but even he won’t set foot in the Old Lord’s woods or his chambers –they’ve been shut up since he passed."
"The chambers below mine?" Verena inquired with affected nonchalance. "I suppose if I wanted to make sure no one found my treasure, making up curses would serve to keep most people away."
"I never thought of it like that before. The stories certainly kept me away."
"Wouldn’t it be nice if the treasure really did exist?"
"Lord knows we could use it," muttered Roselyn.
"What do you mean?"
Roselyn mumbled something unintelligible, hesitant to discuss her clan’s financial troubles with a stranger. Instead she moved on to a less troublesome subject and asked about supper. That small prod was enough to set Roselyn gossiping about the wonderful delicacies that were being prepared as well as the likes and dislikes of the people in attendance. It wasn’t long before she knew the names and descriptions of half the clan.
As the water began to cool she started to fidget. The bath was nice, but she wasn’t used to being idle for long and she was growing restless. She was grateful when Roselyn finally rinsed her hair with sweet-smelling water.
Rising from the tub, she was wrapped in the softest cloth she had ever felt. It was pure decadence on Ivone’s part to supply her with something so fine. A yard of the stuff would feed her for a season. Perhaps she could swipe a bit of it to take with her as a souvenir.
"Who is it?" she asked in answer to the loud knock on the door. Instead of answering the intruder pushed the door open to reveal a freshly bathed Cairn.
Verena gasped, clutching the cloth about her as if it were no bigger than a handkerchief. The thin fabric felt hopelessly inadequate to cover her heated flesh. She felt naked, and under Cairn’s powerful gaze she might as well have been.
The short beard which both irritated and enticed her during their kiss had been shaved off revealing his stubborn chin. Without his beard he looked younger, boyish and more approachable. If she kissed him again would the magic be the same?
The sound of Roselyn politely clearing her throat brought her back to reality. Verena hastily looked away while Cairn’s shoulders visibly straightened.
"I have come to escort you downstairs."
Of course. She had completely lost track of time listening to Roselyn’s friendly chatter and her stomach took the opportunity to remind her how long it had been since she’d had a proper meal.
"I’ll be ready in a moment," she replied.
"I’ll wait outside."
Roselyn glanced speculatively at Verena once the door closed, no doubt wondering at their obvious sexual chemistry.
"Did you know lord Cairn before he went to France?" Verena asked as Roselyn laced her into the beautiful gown. She needed something to distract her from Cairn’s wolfish smile.
"Not very well. My laird wasn’t encouraged to associate with the village children, but he was always kind to me."
"When we rode through the village the people seemed reserved around their lord."
"The others don’t know him yet. They are afraid he will be like la …"
Roselyn stopped, bringing her hands to her mouth as she realized what she was about to say.
"Lady Ivone?" Verena supplied the name. Roselyn shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. The luxuries she had been provided with were in stark contrast to the McPherson’s state of affairs. There was only one person who could be responsible for such irresponsible spending: the woman who controlled the clan while Cairn lived in France. Did he know what his stepmother was doing with the clan’s finances?
"They don’t know him yet," Roselyn repeated, finishing off the laces with a dainty bow.
Chapter 15
Outside Cairn was leaning against the opposite wall, but he stood up as soon as the door began to open. First Roselyn walked through with a tiny, knowing smile in Cairn’s direction. He ignored her; Cairn’s whole attention was focused on Verena.
She stood behind the maid, gazing at Cairn with eyes filled with uncertainty and excitement. She hoped he saw the shy maiden she tried to portray, the desirable woman, and trustworthy friend. There was fire in his eyes, but she wanted more than his sexual desire.
"Good evening," she said, stepping forward to offer her hand. Cairn took it and brought her fingers to his lips. It was a small caress, but she felt her pulse race at the sensual touch.
"Good evening," Cairn replied. "You look beautiful."
Her mass of thick hair had been brushed until it shone like ebony and plaited into a circlet atop her head. The gown Verena wore was an inch too short, but that would keep the hem clean of the floor rushes. Roselyn tightly laced the bodice, lifting her breasts so they appeared larger and fuller. It was one of the strange and random tricks Verena had learned from Hadran, but was not surprised that Roselyn knew it too. She smiled as she saw the effect it had on Cairn.
The smile Cairn gave her in return was anything but shy. There was something distinctly predatory in the way he was looking at her now. Belatedly she wondered why she never noticed his dimples before.
"Thank you, milord, for the use of the gown."
"It is yours."
"Again I thank you."
Cairn’s dimples deepened and Verena had the wild desire to kiss those two spots.
"Shall we go down?" he asked offering his arm. The words were hesitant as if he would much rather return her to the bedroom and undo all of Roselyn’s hard work. She had a brief vision of his strong fingers gently tugging the strings of her bodice. She mentally shook herself, forcing those wayward thoughts from her mind. She needed to focus on her assignment and not the virile man beside her.
The great hall sounded more like a battlefield than a feast. The sounds of falling dishes, heated arguments, babies crying and dogs barking was deafening as they crossed the bailey. But everyone, even the dogs, quieted as Cairn and Verena entered the hall arm in arm.
Mos
t probably thought she was Cairn’s new leman, but the gown told a different story. She learned from Roselyn that it had once belonged to Cairn’s mother. He must regard her highly to have given her such a gift. As Cairn strode purposely toward the head table Verena could see the clan’s puzzlement increasing. Andreu entered the hall soon after and sat on Cairn’s left, leaving an empty space next to her for Lady Ivone.
Once they were seated the feast resumed, but this time the conversations were muted with men and women whispering their speculations about Cairn’s mysterious lady. She put a mask of serenity firmly on her face and tried not to fidget. For one used to skulking in the shadows she was uncomfortable being watched by so many people.
Cairn was extremely attentive, wasting no opportunity to offer Verena the best piece of meat or cheese. Despite the somber mood of the gathering she found herself enjoying Cairn’s company. That is, until his fingers accidently brushed against hers while offering her a piece of sweet bread. Her cheeks flamed as she caught the knowing glint in his eye. Cairn had not forgotten their kiss in the woods and it seemed he would repeat it very soon.
Halfway through the meal Lady Ivone appeared. She walked proudly to the head table, not acknowledging the clansmen in any way, only pausing briefly when she noticed the empty seat beside Verena. Cairn had positioned her between the two clan leaders leaving no doubt as to his regard.
Verena gazed around the room noting the expressions of the clansmen as they watched Ivone’s entrance. Many of them looked like they had been caught between mouthfuls and would much rather continue their suppers in peace. They were respectful, but didn’t show much affection for the lady.
Once Ivone was seated the strained meal resumed. The clan seemed nervous around Cairn’s mother and Verena perfectly understood the sentiment. There was something uncomfortable about having a lady of her caliber seated beside her, like inviting a judge to her table. Cairn and Andreu were busy talking about the much more interesting clan affairs, but Ivone gave her no chance to eavesdrop.
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