by Lynda Lukow
She rubbed her eyes and wondered if she teetered on the brink of madness.
More likely concern over her forthcoming consequences tainted her dreams. The sooner she reached home, the sooner she would learn her fate.
She sat up after Evonne placed a basin of water on the chest next to her pallet. Her maid looked as gray as the dawn sky.
“We have had better visitations.” Kasey removed her nightdress.
“Och, milady, ye be wrong.”
Kasey raised a brow before she began her morning ablutions.
“I had but a few moments with Gavin, but my life will never be the same. He be an enchanting man.” Evonne’s eyes sparkled.
“He be what?” Kasey dried her body. She pulled her gown over her head to hide her smile. “I thought him rude.”
“Nay, milady. He has better manners than most.” Her maid retrieved the comb and used it to point to the seat by window. “He has quite a wit, too.”
Kasey sat and pulled her hair over her collar. “Hunter be more pleasing to the eye.”
“Mayhap to ye.”
“Gavin’s coloring.” Kasey restrained a snicker as she toyed with her friend. “It be quite bland.”
“I happen to like chestnut brown, and I find it comforting that his eyes and hair share the shade.”
Kasey winced as her maid rent a knot. “Hunter stands taller.”
“Gavin’s size be perfect. I prefer not to suffer a sore neck each time I look at his face.”
“He be not as broad as Hunter.” Kasey cringed when her hair tore.
“Gavin be stronger than he looks, yet he can be so gentle.”
Evonne tore out another tangle.
“Gentler than ye?” She snatched the comb from her maid’s hand. “I care to keep some hair on my head.”
“It be the waves, milady. Ye should keep yer hair plaited whilst ye sleep.” Evonne hummed her way across the chamber.
“The braid be so bulky I wake with an aching head.” Kasey plaited her hair as her maid packed their few remaining items. “How can ye be so happy this morn?”
“It be a lovely day.”
“Lovely? Ye might never agin see Gavin.” And I may never see Hunter.
Evonne waved her hand, then placed their dorlachs outside the chamber door. “A healer should have more faith.”
“Faith in what?”
“In love.” Evonne shrugged. “Ye must have noticed the way Hunter looked at ye. The light in his eyes outshone a hundred candles.”
Kasey wished it were true, but she feared believing. Naught rent a heart quicker than a shattered dream. “Gratitude fades as quickly as dew on a warm spring day.”
“Gratitude?” Evonne snorted. “I thought ye wiser.”
“It seems I be wiser than ye.”
“Why?”
“Need I remind ye these men be our sworn enemies?”
“Love kens no plaid. Gavin assured me that he and Hunter will come for us as soon as they be able.”
“Naught less than a war would make our laird release us.”
“Hunter and Gavin will find a bloodless way.”
“Did he kiss ye?”
Her maid nodded.
“I see.”
“What do ye see?”
“Mackintosh kisses have a way of muddling the mind.”
“Ye speak the truth.” Evonne laughed as she tied her arisaide and handed Kasey hers. “But his kisses dinna affect my hearing. His tone left no room for doubt.”
When Evonne decided a matter, naught dissuaded her. In two long years they would learn the truth.
****
As he leaned on the axe handle, Connor rubbed his beaded brow on his shoulder. He turned toward the din of the crowd gathered below by the stables. The moment Kasey came into view, the rabble’s light-hearted laughter turned to jeers.
“I dinna ken the royal guard also served as woodsmen.”
He silenced Gavin with his hand and scanned the throng for Randall. Since the Cameron had been assigned to different quarters, Connor knew not his whereabouts this morn. He would have to count on Broderick to keep the lady safe.
“Get to work, Mackintosh.”
He ignored the commander and kept his gaze trained on the stable.
Kasey held her head high, her back straight, her hands clasped afore her waist. Her blank expression lifted into a smile as she neared Ciara MacPherson. She halted and looked down at her gown. What had the MacPherson hellcat done now?
The stable boy led a white mare to Kasey’s side and held out the reins. She shook her head.
Broderick boosted her into the leather and wood saddle.
“What in blazes?”
Gavin’s question drew Connor’s ear but not his gaze. “The Camerons prepare to leave.”
“The lady rides a Mackintosh mount.”
“Aye, it suits her.”
“Annie will tan yer hide when she learns ye have given a Cameron her favorite horse.”
Connor grinned. “Her second favorite. She will have to vent her wrath to another. I have naught to do with this.”
Caedmon Mackintosh appeared at the rise of the hill. “Commander, a word with my sons afore my departure?”
“Why not? They have done little thus far.”
The man’s gibe twisted Connor’s pride. Holding his side, he bowed halfway to his father.
“She sits the horse well,” Caedmon said.
“Ye be responsible?”
“I may be getting up in years, Connor, but I be not dotty. I expect ye will see the mount returned.” He clapped his son’s right shoulder. “Until then, be sure to show all the Mackintosh mettle.”
As Kasey and her escort cantered from view, Connor’s stomach tightened. “Our day will come.”
****
After she cleared the walls of Inverness, Kasey slapped her mount into a full gallop. She wished she could leave her memories behind with the upturned clumps of sod, but they kept pace.
Tears trickled down her face faster than the wind could dry them. She did not regret healing Hunter, but she rued her weakness to his charms. Never again would she meet a man like him. She must savor the memories.
Without doubt, his touch had warmed her body, but she felt more than lust. He had spoken to her as an equal, and he had attended her words. He had protected her from Randall without thought to his own well-being. He had made her laugh. But most importantly, he had made her feel as if she held the key to his heart. His voice had held so much conviction when he swore to come back for her, how could she not believe him?
Mackintosh or not, she would keep the hope that somehow, someday, he would keep his word.
The rhythm of hooves soothed her frazzled nerves. This mare had the qualities of a truly magnificent steed. Grace. Beauty. Obedience. She doubted she would ever ride her again and vowed to enjoy the privilege.
Hoofbeats approached from behind. She slowed the mare.
Broderick pulled his stallion to her side. “Be the hounds of Hell nipping at yer heels, milady?”
She felt as if she rode toward purgatory’s gates.
“If ye persist in riding ahead, I shall tether yer horse to mine. Do ye understand?”
Kasey nodded.
“Keep within our sight.”
Despite Broderick’s warning, she gave the horse free rein. The countryside looked like a sea of emerald green dotted with ovine foam and bovine driftwood. A distant swayback caught her eye. She tugged on the reins and waited for Broderick to gain her side.
“Why have ye slowed?”
“Be that the mount I rode to Inverness?”
“The nag ye rode could hardly be called a mount.”
“Ye speak the truth. But from where did this mare come?”
Broderick looked over his shoulders. “Yer clansmen believe the king has exchanged this mount for yer nag and ordered ye to ride it home.”
“But the king dinna give this horse to the Camerons, did he?”
“Nay. It be pa
yment for yer services from the Mackintoshes.”
She gave thanks her clansmen lagged a good distance. She feared what they would do to the mount if they knew the truth.
On the second day of the journey, while eating their nooning meal, Broderick pulled Kasey aside. “The moon will be full this night. We can ride through so ye can sleep in yer own pallet, or we can postpone arrival until the morrow.”
“Let us ride through.” Kasey looked at the sky as she mounted the mare. She prayed her laird’s thirst for spirits had dwindled in her absence.
****
Kasey edged open the manor’s door and peered inside. She stole halfway down the empty corridor to the threshold of the great hall, before her escort clamored in behind her.
Douglas Cameron slammed down his goblet. “Symon, who calls at this ungodly hour?”
Kasey cringed. Her laird’s tone did not bode well.
Symon stamped into the corridor. “Where be my brother?”
Though younger and tawnier, Symon’s veins flowed with the same ink as Randall’s. Kasey dared not risk his ire. “Randall remains at Inverness.”
“I shall tell the laird of yer return.”
Brietta ran down the stairs to embrace her, then turned to Casey’s escort. “Thank ye for yer service.”
They nodded and shuffled their feet.
“I be sure yer families have missed ye dearly.” Brietta’s tone left no doubt of their dismissal. After the clansmen scattered, she assigned chambers to the king’s men. “Thank ye, Broderick.”
“My apologies, Lady Cameron, but I must deliver Lady Kasey to her laird.”
Brietta nodded. “I pray that yer propriety continues long into the future. May we have a few moments before ye relegate custody?”
At Broderick’s nod, Brietta pulled Kasey to the foot of the stairs. “Ye need not tell me all that has happened, for I have seen it in my dreams. I be proud of ye, daughter.”
She gripped Kasey’s hand. “Fate has long ago carved our destinies in stone. Ye bear no blame for what be aboot to happen.”
Kasey’s heart raced.
Brietta pulled her into a fierce hug. “My love will guide ye until yer heart’s desire restores joy.”
“Brietta!”
Kasey flinched at the vehemence in her laird’s bellow.
“We canna keep him waiting any longer. I shall love ye always, Kasey.” Her mother pasted on a brave smile and pulled Kasey in her wake.
Broderick followed the ladies into the great hall.
Brietta held her daughter’s hand as they curtsied. “Look who has just arrived home, milord.”
“Well, well, well. The wondrous Lady Kasey returns early.” He staggered to his feet, leaned on the table, and narrowed his eyes. “What have ye done now?”
Broderick stepped forth and bowed. “I would be happy to give ye a full account, milord, but would prefer do so on the morrow.”
Kasey silently thanked Broderick for the delay. Her laird had no control while he bended his elbow.
“As ye wish. Brietta, see this man settled into a chamber equal to his status. Mayhap the manure pile would suffice to warm his weary bones.” Douglas Cameron cackled.
Kasey’s heart slowed as she walked toward the bedchambers. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught one of her escorts returning to the great hall. She crept back and peeked in.
The clansman handed Laird Cameron a sealed missive. The further his eyes scanned down the sheaf, the more mottled his face became.
“Kasey!”
She recoiled. Her heart beat a frantic pace as she entered the hall. Her mother ran to her side.
Brietta eyes appeared glazed. She pulled Kasey into an embrace. “Remember all that I have said, my love.”
Kasey’s knees shook. She had seen her laird angry many times before, but this night he trembled with rage. She curtsied to him and prayed for mercy. “Ye beckoned, milord?”
“Ye traitorous whore! Dinna dare to appease me with false innocence.”
Footsteps approached from behind.
“This concerns ye not, Broderick!” Laird Cameron rounded the table. “Had ye accepted yer burden, this scandal would not have tainted my name.”
Brietta stepped in front of Kasey. “Laird Cameron—”
“Speak to me no more, wench.” Cameron lunged for Brietta’s throat. She latched onto his wrists and struggled to push them away as she drew back.
Broderick ran to intercede. Warriors caught him and pinned him to the rushes.
“Let her be!” Kasey shoved the laird.
He fell, dragging Brietta down. He straddled his wife. His knuckles whitened. Brietta twisted and kicked.
Kasey wrapped her arms around his chest and pulled. Symon hauled her away. She kicked and wrested. He held fast.
The Cameron gained his feet and hoisted Brietta. “Make them watch.”
The warrior on Broderick’s back forced the emissary’s head up by jerking on his hair.
Symon gripped Kasey’s jaw. Tears streamed down her face.
The laird suspended Brietta until her body went limp, then flung her, head first, toward the mantel.
“MOTHER!”
Chapter Seven
CAMERON MANOR, SEPTEMBER (1345)
Kasey woke to her own screams. Her chest pounded. Sweat beaded her brow. Trembling hands wiped away tears that once again failed to cleanse her soul.
Her mother had died two summers before, but not one day slipped by that she did not relive the event.
She dragged her weary body up from the hearthstones and staggered to the window. Dawn remained but a hope.
The hardened skin on her hands snagged strands as she combed her hair with her fingers. The calluses were an ugly blessing, for she no longer wasted precious time wrapping linen strips around blisters.
She snatched her arisaide from under the table, then headed out the door, across rocky mounds to the small copse near the stream. She had supped here with her mother the day before her fateful trip to Inverness. And here her mother’s body rested in an unmarked grave.
To her knowledge only one reason decreed eternal penance, but her existence proved her mother’s fertility. Mayhap someday she would find the courage to question why Laird Cameron denied Lady Brietta’s burial in consecrated grounds.
Within moments after she sat, memories attacked. Glimpses of the bloodied head she had cradled in her lap. The coppery scent of her mother’s blood singed her nostrils as she wiped away her tears with crimson-covered hands. Her pitching chest opposed her mother’s stilled breast.
Her laird’s accusations rang as though he stood by her side, shouting them anew. What say ye, whore? Will ye do naught to aid yer mother? Can ye heal only our enemies?
Torrents of guilt washed over her. She had known the Cameron spent his days imbibing. By nightfall, no one could reason with him. When Broderick gave her the choice, she should have delayed their arrival until the next morn. Her laird, though unpleasant from an aching head, may have been more amenable.
“Ye must cease this, Kasey.”
A sense of warmth enshrouded her. Her lips quivered as she looked about. “Mother?”
A figure, cloaked in white so bright Kasey had to shield her eyes, nodded. “Blame’s burden be not yers to carry.”
“I should have—”
She held up a hand. “Nay, my love. It mattered not then. It matters not now.”
“So much has changed, mother, I canna cope.”
“Find the strength. Brighter days await ye.”
Her mother’s form broadened in its shoulders and took on an amber hue.
Kasey picked up a stone and hurled it through the swirling mist. “Ye lied to me!” She slid to the ground, hid her head in her hands, and allowed her tears to flow. She could no longer suppress her grief for all she had lost. Her mother. Hunter. Hope.
When her tears ran dry, she raised her head. Pink fingers clawed the early morn sky. Harvest mist swirled above the stream. On the opposite b
ank, a tree stood barren save for two golden brown leaves.
She feared a future steeped in madness, but she had no time to worry about that now. She rose and brushed dead grass and leaves from her kirtle.
The day after her mother’s death, her laird had dismissed most of the keep’s staff. The head cook and one helper prepared every meal. Two scullery maids cleaned the entire keep, and two laundresses tended the garments of their laird and dozens of unmarried warriors. It became Kasey’s primary duty to ensure the completion of all chores the six women had neither the time nor desire to attend.
The laird had discharged Evonne from her position as Kasey’s maid. She stayed on in the keep, but never told Kasey the capacity of her new duties. From the lackluster look in Evonne’s eyes, Kasey believed them horrid.
Her friend’s devotion remained steadfast despite public displays. Evonne’s taunts hurt her to the core, but her friend had no choice. Others had been beaten for naught more than treating Kasey kindly. Oftentimes, after the others retired for the night, Evonne would sneak down to the kitchens. She held Kasey’s hand while she distracted her with the latest gossip. Without her former maid, Kasey would forget the warmth of a human touch.
The sun peeked over the distant mountains. Kasey picked up her skirts and ran into the kitchens.
She nodded at the head cook, who stood with her hands on her hips. “Ye be late, princess.”
“My apologies, Agatha.” She wasted no time in mixing the bread dough and putting in the first loaves to bake. She curtsied to the cook and scurried out to the great hall.
She swept aside the rushes and scrubbed the floors, although she scoured the floors each night after the evening fare. How much dirt could accumulate in an empty hall?
She scuttled back to the kitchens and nodded at Kenna, the kitchen helper of barely ten summers. Together they prepared a simple fare for breaking the fast.
“Laird Cameron wishes for honeyed apples this morn.”
Kasey bit her lip. The treat required peeling and baking. Since half the sun had already cleared the hill, she could not finish them on time.
She tried to ignore her rumbling stomach as she peeled the apples. She added the honey and put them into the oven just before her laird entered the kitchen.
