by S. J. Smith
“Who are they?” Caitrin asked Duncan softly, leaning slightly in the saddle to make sure her voice wouldn't carry too far.
“Ross men,” Duncan replied. “Kendrick must have sent them t' escort us. A magnanimous offer.”
“Do they not trust us t' make it there on our own?”
Duncan shrugged. “The roads are dangerous,” he said. “Perhaps he simply wants t’ protect his investment.” His cheeks turned ruddy and he cleared his throat. “No offence meant, o' course.”
“None taken,” Caitrin replied distractedly. “Do ye recognize any of these men?”
“Nay,” Duncan replied, “but I've no’ had th' pleasure of meeting a Ross. Ye know I'm a Graeme man through and through. I've ne'er left the castle ‘til now.”
Caitrin sighed and settled back in the saddle. The three Ross men came within a few yards, then halted, and the leader held up his hand in greeting, a friendly smile on his face.
“Our laird sends his regards,” he said. “He wished us t' see ye safely t' th' castle. Th' roads here can be treacherous. A storm recently washed away one o' th' bridges and th' remaining pass can be difficult t' find.”
“'Tis appreciated,” Colin said. “We're about t' break for lunch. Will ye join us?”
“Gladly!” the leader said, and signalled to his men. They had brought food with them, a gift from Kendrick, they said, which they first offered to Caitrin. It was their leader who approached her, an easy grin on his face that gently crinkled the skin around his eyes. She judged him to be about the same age as Kendrick and wondered if they had grown up together. Assuming she was right, of course. She accepted the sweet, sticky buns she was offered with a polite smile.
“What do they call ye?” she asked the man, taking a dainty bite though she wanted nothing more than to stuff the entirety of the treat in her mouth.
“Hugh,” he replied. “'Tis a pleasure t' meet ye, Lady Caitrin.”
“Th' pleasure is mine,” Caitrin replied, and blushed when Hugh kissed the back of her hand. She spared a glance at Duncan, but he was far from her and his attention was directed elsewhere.
Caitrin softly cleared her throat and plucked her hand out of Hugh's. “How much longer t' Balnagown?” she asked.
“Nae more than two days,” Hugh replied. He broke the bun he held in half and bit into one part of it. “Perhaps less, should we keep a good pace. I hope th' road has treated ye well.”
“I fear I am no' suited for travel,” Caitrin replied.
Hugh chuckled lightly. “Nor I,” he said, “but we must all make certain sacrifices for duty, aye?”
“Aye,” Caitrin said, “we must.”
She liked this man, she decided. He was comely and his demeanour was easy, and the smile on his face so charming that Caitrin found herself hard-pressed not to smile herself. If he was a hint of what she could expect at Balnagown, then perhaps her marriage wouldn't be as lonely as she feared it would.
The party, now three men larger, mounted up not long after it had stopped, the Ross men taking the lead to show the way. After a while Hugh pulled back to fall in line next to Caitrin. He sat his horse like he had been born in the saddle, one hand on the reins and resting on the pommel and the other casual on the hilt of his broadsword. He smiled broadly at Caitrin when she looked at him and she returned it without a second thought.
Hugh turned his eyes back to the road ahead of them, quickly raising a hand to rake his fingers through his hair. “Ye're a brave woman t' be doing this,” he said.
“I wouldnae say tha',” Caitrin replied. “I had little choice.”
“Why does tha' mean ye are no' brave?” Hugh asked.
Caitrin glanced at her companion. “I suppose it does no'.”
Hugh still wore an easy grin. “Ye must be curious about your husband-t'-be,” he continued. “Might I... attempt t' clear up any doubts ye may be havin' about his character?”
“That is very kind o' you,” Caitrin replied, “but perhaps I should keep my doubts t' myself.”
“Are ye no' curious?”
“I wouldnae wan' t' soil my first impression.”
Hugh shrugged. “Fair,” he said. “After all, they last a lifetime, nay? I'm certain he'll be very much pleased with ye.”
Caitrin chewed on the corner of her lip. “I do have a single question,” she said.
“Ask whate'er ye will,” Hugh replied.
“Is Kendrick... a good man?”
Hugh stewed on her question for a long minute, a pensive look on his handsome face. He rubbed his clean jaw with two fingers, then nodded, and fixed serious eyes on Caitrin's. “I think he tries his best t' be so,” he said carefully, “as any man would do.”
The answer was satisfying enough. Caitrin felt a tight bundle of anxiety release. “Thank ye,” she said.
“'Tis my pleasure, Lady Graeme,” Hugh said. “I am an open book.”
“Well,” Caitrin said, “I promise I shall come t' ye should I have any more questions.”
“See that ye do.” With another brilliant grin, he kicked his horse to the head of the procession again. Duncan took Hugh's departure as a sign that it was his turn to fall back to Caitrin's side.
“What was tha' all about?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Caitrin replied. “He was only trying t’ be friendly.”
“Best be careful,” Duncan said, “I know men who'd beat a man for so much as looking at his wife th' wrong way.”
“I dinnae think Kendrick is tha' kind o' man,” Caitrin replied.
“Oh? And how d'ye figure tha'?”
Caitrin shook her head gently. “Jus' a feeling.”
Duncan scoffed lightly and rolled his eyes, but smiled. They travelled on in silence for a time, ambling past the rolling hills, heading ever farther north. Caitrin found her eyes drawn to Hugh's back. For all his height and slim frame there was still a strength to his back and shoulders, the kind that came from long hours of swinging a blade. Had he ever used it to kill a man? Duncan never had, though he liked to boast. The most he had ever done was kill a boar whilst hunting. Was Kendrick the kind to boast as well? She could always ask Hugh, but Caitrin couldn't help but feel there was something more to him than was initially apparent. It was something in the way he carried himself, how his men looked to him... He was hiding something, and Caitrin was curious to know what.
When they stopped to make camp for the night, the Ross men made their own small fire a bit away from Caitrin's escort. They shared their food and drink, but mostly kept to themselves. From her own fire, Caitrin carefully watched Hugh, distantly aware of Duncan sharpening his dirk next to her, his brown hair turned bronze in the firelight. She paid him little attention. Hugh laughed and joked with his men, eating and drinking as if he were one of them and not the something more that Caitrin thought he was. The nagging feeling in her mind that kept tugging her thoughts to him had remained since their initial conversation, and no amount of effort on Caitrin's part could tear them away. At least it meant she wasn't thinking about her marriage.
Another full day of riding had left her weary, but despite her best attempts to rest, sleep eluded her. At her side Duncan snored away, close enough that he could protect her should anyone think to sneak up on them in the dead of night, but not at her back like he had the night before. The Graeme men knew the truth of their relationship and thought nothing of their closeness, and many of them were older by a decade or more. But the Ross men would see it differently, and it wouldn't do for them to think that their laird's lady had a lover on the side. Not that Caitrin would call Duncan her lover, nor she his, but she knew well enough that their relationship fell somewhere in the middle, in the grey area between the truest of friends and the shyest of lovers. That wasn't to say that Duncan wasn't a fine man. He very much was. One day he would make a fine husband. He just wouldn't be Caitrin's. She would miss him when his duties called him back to Castle Graeme, but at least until then she would retain the pleasure of his company.
S
he fell asleep after a time, warmed by the fire tended by the watchman, and dreamed of Duncan and Hugh, of red and brown hair and dark eyes and large, gentle hands on her body. When she woke with the sun to break camp with the men, there was sweat on her skin that quickly cooled in the chilly morning air, and a dull, hot ache between her legs that lingered for hours after the party had set out once more.
*****
It was just after midday when they came upon Balnagown, sitting high atop its hill. The turrets came into view first, pennants flying at their peaks. The closer they drew, the more of the castle was exposed. Even Caitrin could tell the stonework was sturdy, old as it was. It seemed that someone was in the process of expanding it as well. Part of a manor house had been built, but it was clearly still unfinished. Rough scaffolding and other materials lay around the site.
Hugh pulled back to ride by her side, a smile on his face. "I apologize for the mess, my lady," he said. "The laird wishes t' start a family, but that wee thing has scarce enough room for him and his house, let alone for a wife and children."
Caitrin blanched. Somehow the knowledge that she would be expected to bear children had never crossed her mind. Hugh caught her expression and tilted his head, a sympathetic look in his eyes."Ye needn't worry," he said. "'Tis time a plenty for things like tha'."
Caitrin nodded. Hugh lingered a moment longer then trotted forward to join his fellows. He gave an order and they raced off ahead, their guidance no longer needed and no doubt an announcement of Caitrin's arrival needed to be made. Caitrin watched the dust from their horses' hooves fade and worried the corner of her lip with her teeth, her hands too tight on the reins.
Duncan moved his gelding over until his leg brushed against Caitrin's and reached to lay a hand over hers. "I'm here," he said, smiling through a beard two days old, if not more. "And I'll no' leave yer side, no' 'til I'm forced t' do so."
"Let us hope tha' 'tis a long time away," Caitrin replied.
Duncan squeezed her fingers gently. "Breathe," he said, and Caitrin did, filling her lungs with fresh highland air.
When she exhaled she felt mildly better. Her heart stopped pounding so loudly and the sudden bout of nausea that struck her stomach when they first spotted the castle faded to a level she could almost ignore. Duncan moved his hand but stayed close to her, his presence as strong and comforting as it always was.
***
Part of the household was waiting for them when they arrived. Well-dressed servants moved to hold horses and to unload the cart, whilst another stepped forward to bow to Caitrin and introduce himself.
"Douglass, Laird Ross’ master of house. If ye'll be so kind as t' come with me, my lady, he is expecting ye."
Caitrin cast a worried glance Duncan's way. He caught it and let one of the servants take his horse so he could stand at Caitrin's shoulder, touching the small of her back. His hand lingered there as Douglass led them around the construction, apologizing for the mess, and into the castle. It was as cramped as Hugh had said it was, though no less fine for it. It was warmer than Caitrin had expected it would be, and well-lit by dozens of candles. Douglass took them to the centre, where the main hall was, and sitting at the highest table, a plate of meat and cheese before him and a pitcher of wine at his side was Hugh, dressed in a clean white shirt and a fresh kilt; rings on his fingers that had been absent during their ride. Caitrin stopped so abruptly that Duncan bumped into her and almost knocked her down.
Douglass cleared his throat and Hugh looked up, focusing his eyes on Caitrin. "May I present Kendrick Ross, step-son of the late Hugh Ross, and Laird of Balnagown. My laird, Caitrin Graeme, daughter of John Graeme and her companion, Duncan Blair."
Hugh - no, Kendrick,stood and dusted off his shirt. Caitrin managed a hasty curtsy only after Duncan poked her with the hilt of his broadsword when he bowed. Kendrick's laugh echoed around the hall.
"Nae need for tha’ here," he said, coming down from the dais to stand in front of Caitrin and take both her hands in his. "I'm sorry for my deception, but I wanted t' see a glimpse o' th’ woman I'm t' spend th' rest o' my life with. Would ye no' have done th’ same?"
Caitrin looked up at him, searching for any hint of dishonesty in his eyes, but she found none. "Aye," she heard herself say. "I would have."
Kendrick smiled, the same smile that Hugh had graced her with so many times during their brief journey, and squeezed her hands. "Th' servants shall bring yer things up t' yer room," he continued. "It connects t' mine, so that ye might have yer own place, even after we are wed. 'Tis a fine room. Would ye like t’ see?"
Caitrin glanced to Duncan, who nodded, his shoulders relaxed but his jaw tight, then nodded herself. Kendrick offered Caitrin his arm, which she took, and led her out of the hall, Duncan following a few paces behind.
The rooms were situated at the top of the castle, directly above the main hall. Kendrick pushed open one of the doors and gestured for Caitrin to enter. Duncan stepped in behind her. A large bed dominated most of the room, covers of a rich red neatly made up over the pillows. There was a window that looked out over the highlands with a seat very much like the one in Caitrin's old room, a cushion on the stone. Across from the bed was a small hearth and in the far corner a large wardrobe. There was plenty of space for all of Caitrin's things. She glanced at the only other door, the one that led to Kendrick's chamber, and swallowed down a sudden bout of anxiety.
"Is it t' yer liking?" Kendrick asked. Caitrin nodded, for it was, whatever her reservations were. Kendrick's smile was as wide and comforting as Duncan's always were. "Grand. I'll have a maid sent t' help ye, and ye may decorate as ye see fit." For a moment he looked almost nervous. "Th'... ceremony shall take place on the morrow, in th' morn, down in th' chapel. Th' priest has yet t' arrive, but he should be here come morn." He touched Caitrin's cheek with rough fingertips, searching her face. "I meant it when I said ye're brave," he said softly, his words meant for her and her alone. "It may no' be much of a consolation, but I'm nervous as well. I promise I'll treat ye like th' lady ye are."
Caitrin touched the back of his hand, his words warming her heart. "Thank you," she said.
Kendrick nodded and stepped back, clasping his hands behind his back. He turned his attention to Duncan. "Do ye hunt?" he asked. Duncan nodded. "Will ye join my men and I? We're out t’ catch a stag for dinner tomorrow, and one more rider would be welcome."
Duncan glanced at Caitrin then nodded once. "Aye, I'd be glad t'."
"Excellent," Kendrick replied. "Rest. Eat, drink. We'll set off soon t' see what we can find." With a smile he departed, closing the door behind him. Duncan sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his mouth pulling down at the corners.
"Are ye well?" Caitrin asked.
Duncan nodded. "Aye," he sighed out. "I'm fine."
"Ye dinnae look fine."
"I will be," Duncan said. Caitrin crossed to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face against his warm chest and inhaling the scent of leather and horses and sweat. He slid a hand into her hair, cradling her head. For a while neither of them moved. Caitrin was the first to pull away, standing on her toes to kiss the corner of Duncan's mouth.
"Shave tomorrow," she said, playfully gripping his chin.
"Ach," Duncan groaned, pulling his head away with a false grimace. "Yer worse than my mother."
"Duncan..."
"I will, I will," Duncan said. "Don' be nagging."
"Go eat," Caitrin said, shoving him lightly. "Th' servants will be here soon and I need t' put my things in order."
"I suppose I need t' prepare for a hunt as well. Hopefully a short one. I've no mind t’ spent th' rest o' the day riding."
"Be safe," Caitrin said. "I dinnae need ye t' be gored by some boar th' night before I'm married. Who will give me away, then?"
Duncan huffed, but Caitrin knew he would be as careful as he could. He slipped out of her room, leaving Caitrin to sit on the window seat with her hands folded in her lap, waiting for the servants
to bring her chest up to the room.
***
A clatter in the yard drew her attention after supper that night. A woman named Rhona had been sent up to help her unpack and put away her things, as well as to serve as her personal servant. She was a few years older than Caitrin, widowed, with a small boy of her own who helped in the kitchens. Caitrin was glad for the company of a woman like her, though she asked none of the dozen questions that swirled around her mind. There was more space than she needed in the wardrobe, and plenty leftover in the chest she had placed at the foot of the bed. At least she would not be wanting in that regard.
Rhona only glanced at the window before continuing her work. Caitrin crossed to it, looking down on the yard and the stables to see all the men Kendrick had ridden out with returning triumphant, their prize partly butchered and waiting in a dog cart to be taken to the kitchens. Duncan was amongst them, looking wild from the ride, and surprisingly dirty, but no worse for wear. Her eyes sought Kendrick next, and saw him standing tall in the stirrups, shouting orders to someone Caitrin couldn't see.
"Looks like there'll be a proper feast tomorrow," Rhona said with a smile.
"Aye," Caitrin replied distractedly.
She watched the men below her congratulate each other. Duncan seemed right at home. Caitrin was pleased for him. At least he had found some comfort during his stay. She turned away from the window and looked at Rhona. She was no Duncan, but at least when he left Caitrin wouldn't be left completely alone in an unfamiliar place surrounded by unfamiliar people. She had a feeling that Rhona would be her primary source on what married life was like. The only real example she had was her parent's marriage, and things were always different when family was involved.
"Were ye frightened?" Caitrin asked.
"Aye," Rhona replied. "But John was verra kind. He was a good man. Kendrick is a good man, too, ye'll see."
