Still confused, Gylys offered a simple nod as he watched his laird quit the room.
Alec soon found himself locked out of his wife’s kitchen. He made another trip above stairs to retrieve her keys, paying no attention to Gylys who sat in the chair by the hearth. Moments later, he was unlocking the door and stepping inside.
Everything was so neat, tidy, and orderly. And he hadn’t a clue as to what most of the implements were for.
“I am the chief of a mighty clan. Certainly, I can scrounge up a bit of eggs and ham fer me wife,” he said to the empty room. Bolstering his spirits, he set about to prepare a lovely breakfast for Leona.
By the time he finished wreaking havoc on his wife’s most prized possession — her kitchen — he had managed to burn a half dozen eggs as well as three thick slices of ham. And he took three skillets to manage it all.
Letting loose a heavy breath, he decided to make the best of it. Choosing the least burnt of the ham, and the least undercooked eggs, he set them on a trencher. It took a long while to find a tray, for she stored them in the most unusual place — on the shelf under the massive center table. He managed not to cut his fingers as he sliced off a few pieces of brown bread. The honey was not in the larder, as he would have assumed, but out on the long counter next to her spices.
By the time he finished finding what he needed and setting it all on a tray, the ham was cold and the eggs were beginning to conceal. “I never said I was a cook,” he said aloud. “And I have certainly eaten far worse than this.”
Deciding ’twas the thought that counted more with his wife than the actual outcome, he hurried to take the meal to her.
As he crossed through the gathering room, Gylys and now Kyth, were standing next to the hearth, speaking in hushed tones. Alec said not a word as he walked by, his focus on the tray in his hands.
Alec barely managed to keep from spilling its contents as he struggled with the door to his bedchamber. ’Twas the bundle of dirty clothes he had left by the door that nearly sent him tumbling to the floor.
Righting himself, he crept to his wife’s bedside and set the trencher on the floor. “Leona, sweeting,” he whispered warmly.
She rolled away, grumbling something incoherent. Something along the lines of how rude it was to wake a person up before the sun.
Chuckling, he took a lock of her hair and tickled the end of her nose. “Leona, I have a surprise for ye.”
She snuggled further into the bed. “Thank ye,” she whispered, but made no attempt to open her eyes. “But I fear I am too tired fer lovin’ just yet. Can we wait until the sun is up?”
He chuckled again and gave her shoulder a gentle pat. “’Tis no’ that kind of a surprise.”
Curiosity won over sleep. Leona rolled over and peeked at him from under the covers. “What kind of surprise is it?” she asked sleepily.
He lifted the tray up and held it before her. “I made ye something to break yer fast.”
Stunned, she sat upright and stared at the tray. “Ye cooked for me?” she asked.
He offered her a proud smile. “Aye, I did.”
Once she was settled in, Alec set the tray on her lap. “I fear it be no’ as good as what ye accomplish.”
To Leona’s way of thinking, he could have been offering her soup made from grass and it wouldn’t have mattered. ’Twas the sentiment, the sincere gesture on his part, that brought tears to her eyes. “Och! Alec!” she exclaimed.
“’Tis no’ that bad,” he said as he poked a knife at the ham. “Just a wee bit burnt around the edges.”
“I do no’ mean that,” she said. “This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done fer me!”
He quirked a brow. “’Tis just a meal, Leona, no’ a ruby encrusted crown.”
Of course he couldn’t’ possibly understand what she meant. Wholly unused to acts of generosity such as this, she could not help but cry over it. Taking in a deep breath or two, she willed her tears away. “Thank ye, Alec. Thank ye verra much.”
After Leona had finished eating as much as she was able —either from lack of appetite or the unappealing meal — Alec took the tray back to the kitchen, but not before ordering her to stay abed and rest. She made no attempt to argue. Instead, she snuggled back into the covers and closed her eyes. He was quite certain she was asleep before he closed the door.
Once again, he ignored his men, who had now been joined by Derrick. The three men stared with furrowed brows as Alec crossed through the gathering room. Mayhap ’twas the skip in his step, or the smile on his face, or the fact that he was whistling a lively little tune, that stunned them. In truth, ’twas all those things.
They’d never seen their laird quite so happy before.
Alec had made quite a mess preparing the meal for his wife. As he stood amongst the dirty pots and pans, he wondered how his wife was able to keep the space as immaculate as she did. Letting loose with a sigh of resignation, he grabbed two buckets and fetched water from the well.
With the water heating by the fire, he realized he had no idea what to do with the scraps of food. Mayhap she saves them for the pigs.
Grabbing an empty bucket from by the door, he scraped the left over bits into it and returned it. Once that task was complete, he tested the water with his fingertips. Still cold. ‘Twould do no good, he supposed, to use frigid water to clean.
Once again, he stood looking around. He wondered what his wife would do while she waited for water to warm. She probably would have done that before she started cooking.
His appreciation for all his wife did increased by leaps and bounds.
“I shall go check the fields first,” he declared aloud. “The water should be warm upon my return.”
Deciding he would check on his wife before heading to the fields, Alec left the kitchen. The sun was shining brightly in the robin’s egg blue sky. ‘Twould be a good day to be in the fields.
Upon entering the gathering room, he found a small crowd had formed. Derrick and Gylys were still near the hearth, with Kyth standing guard at the bottom of the stairs. In addition to his men, two clanswomen — Hexie and Matildis Bowie, in their early forties — were huddled near the table. The two women could have passed for sisters. Each possessed the same dark brown hair and brown eyes as most of the Bowies. Roundish and buxom, they were each far too old to be wearing such tight and revealing gowns as they wore today. If Matildis were to sneeze, he reckoned the ties on her bodice would break and the goods she had proudly on display would spill out. Probably with much relief.
He could tell by the hushed and harsh tones in which they spoke that there was a problem. A problem he would undoubtedly be expected to solve.
A third person, a bonnie lass whose name he could not recollect, stood apart from them, in the corner by the entrance. Although she was staring at her shoes, Alec took note of the frequent glances she was giving the two other women.
When he had first agreed to become laird, he had decided early on to hold court once a month. There, he would listen to the concerns of his clanspeople, help solve any disputes, and otherwise act as a true laird and chief. But only once a month. The rest of the time, his people knew where to find him. As far as he was concerned, he had far more important things to tend to, such as getting his clan out of the financial hole his brother had dug for them.
His last court had been held the day before he left to marry Leona. That was more than a month ago.
“Good day to ye,” he said to the women as he stopped a few feet from the table. Inwardly, he hoped this would not take long.
Hexie and Matildis quit whispering to turn their attention to Alec. They each returned his greeting and offered up little curtsies.
Choosing his next words carefully, for he did not want to be all day with trying to fix whatever problem these women had, he said, “I am on my way to the fields.”
The two women cast quick glances over their shoulders at the young girl. In a low voice, Hexie said, “We need to speak to ye about the
girl, m’laird.”
Alec gave a cursory look toward the young girl in question.
“Ye see, m’laird, there be five of us livin’ together,” Hexie said.
“Aye, ’tis awfully crowded, m’laird,” Matildis added, nodding her head at her friend.
“Do ye no’ have the biggest cottage?” Alec asked, knowing full well they did.
“Och!” Matildis said with a smile. “’Tis a verra nice cottage, m’laird. The biggest one and we be quite grateful fer it.”
While Matildis might have forgotten why they were there, Hexie hadn’t. She nudged Matildis with a hard elbow to her ribs. “It might be the biggest, but it still be crowded. We be steppin’ on one another left and right, ye ken.”
Alec began to wonder if Matildis had a mind of her own, for she was once again nodding her head in agreement with Hexie.
“And the girl, m’laird,” Hexie said with another glance her way. Lowering her voice, she said, “Somethin’ be no’ right about her.”
A dull ache began to form betwixt his eyes. “I fear I do no’ remember her name nor why she be livin’ with ye,” he said, ignoring the ‘no’ right comment altogether.
Matildis quit smiling. “The poor thing,” she whispered. “Her parents and brother died last year. The ague. She be all alone, so we took her in.”
“Ye took her in,” Hexie corrected with a frown.
“Where else was she to go?” Matildis asked.
Whilst the women argued, Alec rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb. “What is it ye would like me to do?” he asked, breaking through their argument.
“Well, now, m’laird,” Hexie began. “We ken ye was lookin’ fer someone to work in the keep, to help yer wife.”
They wanted him and his wife to take in the orphan? He looked across the room at her again. She could not be more than three and ten, he reckoned. Wee, as wee as his own wife. The girl did not possess the same dark brown hair as most of the other Bowies. Nay, hers was a few shades lighter.
He turned “Why?” Certainly there was more to it than a lack of space in their cottage.
The two women exchanged a knowing glance before Hexie answered. “As I said, there be somethin’ wrong with that one.”
He waited patiently, and with a stern expression, for her to continue.
Clearing her throat, Hexie said, “She be quiet, m’laird. Verra quiet. Always starin’ at us as if we were the daft ones.”
Alec had to wonder if she had ever been given a chance to speak her mind, especially if Hexie or Matildis were near.
“Ye see, m’laird, we likes to entertain on occasion. And we find it a wee bit difficult to do with that one around. Always lookin’ so smug, so high and mighty. She does no’ like to entertain the way the older women do, ye ken?”
Aye, he was beginning to understand with a clarity he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.
“And her temper? Och! ‘Twould put to shame any other Bowie, that I can tell ye without exaggeration. Why, just last eve, she slapped poor Marvis Bowie, the one who lives down by the creek, so hard, he almost lost an eye!”
The ache in his head was increasing with each word that spilled out of Hexie’s mouth. “Why would she do such a thing?” He wished immediately that he hadn’t asked the question.
“Because she does no’ like to entertain like the rest of us.”
He was appalled. “Do ye no’ think she be a bit young to be entertainin’ like the rest of ye?”
She gave him an exaggerated blink before responding. “She be five and ten, m’laird. Nearly six and ten! Why, by all rights, she should be married by now. But she does no’ like anyone we have suggested to her. A haughty thing she be.”
Alec was reaching the limits of his patience. “’Tis nay up to ye to be arrangin’ anyone’s marriage.” He politely reminded them. Instantly, he felt sorry for the young girl. And unfortunately, he could well imagine the kind of men Hexie and Matildis would offer up for the poor girl.
“I shall bring the matter to me wife,” he said, hoping to bring it to a close. “In the meantime, please be kind to the girl. She has, after all, lost her entire family.”
From their stunned expressions, one would have thought he’d just asked them to join St. Agnes’s convent.
“We have been nothin’ but kind, m’laird. ’Tis she that—”
He cut her off with a raised hand. “I said, I would bring the matter to me wife. The girl shall stay under yer protection until further notice.” He began to step away but paused. “And by kind, I mean do no’ force the girl to entertain anyone. And it would serve ye well to let those ye entertain to ken that should anything happen to the lass, ye all will be answerin’ to me.”
By the time he finished inspecting the crops and training, Alec had completely forgotten about his visit from Hexie and Matildis.
A bit tired and worn from his afternoon, he headed to the keep, eagerly anticipating the hot bath that would be waiting for him. Then he remembered it had been his wife seeing to that luxury. With her on much needed bed rest for the next few days, there would be no soothing bath to go home to.
Begrudgingly, he turned around and headed for the loch. The water was a tad warmer than ice, but it served its purpose. He was soon clean of mud and muck and felt a bit invigorated.
The gathering room was empty and dark when he entered the keep. At once, he realized he did not enjoy coming home to such a dark and empty place. He could hear muffled voices floating down from above stairs. Undoubtedly ’twas his wife and men.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he was soon standing just outside the doorway to his room. There, in front of the hearth, was the tub, filled with steaming water. His anger flared, until he heard Gylys.
“Will ye be wantin’ anythin’ else, Mistress?” Gylys asked.
“Nay,” he heard her reply. “And again, I thank ye both fer doin’ this fer me. Alec has been workin’ verra hard. And he does enjoy his hot baths.”
Relief settled in when he realized it had been his men who saw to the bath, and not his wife. Guilt, however, was in hot pursuit.
Stepping into his bedchamber, he searched for Leona. She was still abed, just as he had ordered. Gylys and Kyth were gathering up buckets.
“Alec!” Leona exclaimed happily. “Yer bath be ready.”
She couldn’t see to his bath herself, but she still made certain he had one by enlisting the help of his men.
He said not a word as the men quit the room. Quietly, he closed the door behind them before going to his wife’s side.
“Ye’ve already bathed?” she asked with a confused tilt of her head.
“In the loch,” he replied.
Her lips formed into that seductive ‘o’ shape as she stared longingly at the tub.
Gently, he helped her to sit upright. “I say it be time ye enjoyed the fruits of yer labor,” he said as he helped her to her feet.
The following morn dawned gray, the clouds pregnant with rain, not a beam of sunlight to be bought or found.
Inside their bedchamber, Alec woke to Leona snuggled against him for warmth. One would think that after the two hour ‘bath’ he had shared with her the night before, his ardor would have been sated for the next fortnight. But such was not the case this morn. Nay, he woke with the same fervent desires and need as last night. And only his wife would be able to quench it.
As he twined a lock of hair around his finger, the skies opened up. The rain came down in great sheets and waves. God be with any man or beast caught unawares outdoors, for ’twas likely the rain could tear clean through a man’s skin.
Leona snuggled in more closely, dangerously wiggling her bottom against his groin. Wrapping an arm around her tiny waist, he held her close. Inhaling deeply, he drew in her scent and held on to it, as if burning it into his memory.
How did it happen? He asked himself. How have I become so attached to ye? How can I be filled with so much desire and need for one woman? ’Twas dangerous, he knew it, to
feel so strongly toward a woman. But Leona was not just any woman.
Nay, she was remarkable. Strong, determined, and sweet. Oh, so very sweet. He wondered what his father and his father before him might think of him. Undoubtedly, they’d condemn him for caring so deeply for a woman. But this morning, he didn’t rightly care about the opinions of men long dead.
All he cared about was his wife.
He was not ready to concede to anything just yet. And he was nowhere near ready to admit he had more than a strong liking for Leona. Nay, he was not ready to give her the words.
Deciding for once, to let his wife sleep without intrusion or interruption, he slipped quietly from the bed. Hell, half the reason she is so exhausted is due to yer selfish need to bed her five times a day, ye big, foolish lout!
Late that afternoon, Alec made his way back to their bedchamber to see how his wife fared. ’Twas a good thing he arrived when he did or she would have made her escape.
She was just stepping into her brown dress when he opened the door. She paused midway, her eyes wide with surprise. “Alec!” she said. “I thought I would no’ see you until this eve.”
Of course ye thought that, ye little minx. “I came to see how ye fare.”
Knowing she’d been caught attempting to leave, she pretended nothing was wrong. “I am doing much better,” she said. “I thought I would go below stairs and begin the evenin’ meal.”
He gave a slow shake of his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I will prepare the evenin’ meal.”
“You?” she all but squawked in horror.
“Aye,” he replied. “Me.”
He knew what she was thinking. The meals he had prepared for her thus far had been nothing short of dismal.
“Mayhap I could go with ye?” she began. “Only to instruct,” she quickly added. “I would no’ lift a finger. Just encourage ye a bit.”
’Twas nearly impossible not to laugh at her horrified expression. “Ye are no’ going to instruct or encourage. Ye’re goin’ to stay here. In bed. As I ordered.”
The Bowie Bride: Book Two of The Mackintoshes and McLarens Page 28
