They rode through the dense forest and up the hilly and rocky ridges in silence until they came down to the plains. They passed through the watchtowers with Leith holding up his hand as a salute to the sentries. This time, Leith directed them over a longer path until they got to the gates of the Robasdan stronghold.
Leith called out again, and after a few moments, the drawbridge began to lower. He had his horse near her and his head dipped to her. “I ken this isnae what ye wanted but this is the safest way for us.”
“I know,” Mary sighed, “but I have to trust you. They might be surprised to see us again?”
Leith’s laugh was loud and lively, “Nay, lass, nay. Ye’d be surprised if they dinnea have a room made up for ye already. I’m sure nay one will be surprised to see us, the sentries most likely sent a bird to alert them already. They won’t be surprised, hell, they were expecting me back anyway.”
His words slightly mollified her anxiety and she made her horse step away as the mighty bridge was lowered. When it was placed over the waters, they began to ride over it, “Leith, how is it that this bridge is set over this water so easily? Are there posts underneath that we don’t see?”
“Och, lass,” Leith exclaimed, “Ye see very well. Aye, there are posts under the water but ye cannea see them because of the peat. If they were visible, the clan’s enemies would use it to invade them.”
They passed over the bridge to enter the wide courtyard and the circular castle beyond. She looked over to the wall, seeing the impenetrable barrier from the other side. The walls, even without the iron-spiked girders, were ominous.
A touch to her side had her looking to see Leith at her side; his hands held up expectantly. His eyebrow ticked up just as a corner of his mouth did, “Are ye coming down, lass, or do ye plan on sleepin’ there?”
“Has anyone told you are a bit tiring at times?” Mary huffed playfully.
“I have been told once or twice,” Leith said as he helped her down, “But water over a duck’s back, lass. It doesnae bother me much.”
As her feet touched the ground, Mary realized the stark height difference between them. Leith was at least five inches over her modest five-foot-six. Warming inside, Mary turned away to see Laird Robasdan coming toward them with a knowing smirk on his face.
“I expected ye back, Lenichton, but nae Miss Thompson,” the Laird said. “What happened?”
“My friend’s Aunt was not there,” Mary said dejectedly. “She gave her house away and moved off to where no one can tell. Leith said the best choice was to come back here before venturing to his home.”
Deep green eyes shot over to Leith, “It’s Leith now, eh?”
“It is,” Leith replied, biting back his grin at Mary’s dark blush. “Are ye going to give us shelter or nae?”
Laird Robasdan clapped his large hand on Leith's shoulder, “No fear, me friend, ye are always welcome here. Miss Thompson too. I’m sure me wife would love to see ye again.”
“Thank you, Laird Robasdan,” Mary said with a curtsy. A wave of unexpected tiredness washed over her but she gave no sign of it. “I’ll be happy to see her as well.”
The Laird’s head cocked to the side with his eyes narrowing slightly. Mary stopped herself from squirming under his gaze until he took his gaze away and called for some women to come to her side, “Give her one of the eastern rooms.”
They curtsied, “Aye, Me Laird.”
The two men were looking at her but then turned to speak between themselves. Spinning, she managed a smile at Leith before she was whisked away. Inside the castle, she was taken back up a few flights and then into the room Laird Robasdan had offered her. It was not as magnificent as Lady Robasdan’s chambers, but she had not expected it to be.
It was small but cozy, with a bed pushed up to the corner and piled high with fur blankets, a pair of wooden chairs, and a small table rested in the middle above a dark carpet. The stone walls held a single tapestry and a copper sconce on the wall. There was a thin carpet on the rock floor to keep her feet from the cold. The fireplace had a flickering blaze and a single tallow candle was on her nightstand.
“In the morrow, we can send up some water for ye to bathe,” one of the women said kindly. “Will ye like that, Miss Thompson?”
“I’d greatly appreciate it,” Mary nodded.
“Good day then,” they both curtsied, before one said, “A meal will be sent up for ye soon if ye would like, or ye can come to the great hall for supper this evening. His Lairdship gives ye his best regards.”
They left and Mary moved to the large window where the wooden shutters were already pushed open. She stood as the sun rendered the land below a spectacular vista. Her eyes ran past the moat toward miles upon miles of green land, rolling meadows and thick forests.
I imagine the sunsets here would be magnificent.
She could just imagine the sky darkening to a deep-blue twilight hue streaked with dark gray and purple, while the brilliant pink and orange rays still lingered in the sky.
As she was about to turn away, she spotted the messy, wind-blown head of Leith, but he was alone. He was walking toward what looked like a garden with a dejected hunch to his shoulders that concerned her.
He did not look well at all. Marking the direction, he was going, she turned and left the room, praying that she could find herself back. Halfway down the corridor, she paused to think if what she was doing was right? She had parted from him in less than half an hour, mayhap he needed time to himself?
Mary lingered and even spun to look back toward the direction she had come from with indecision. I’ll give him this to be by himself. I’ll see him at supper later this evening.
With a heavy heart, Mary went back to her room and closed the door after her. She went to the same window but then doubled back and took one of the chairs over to it. Bracing her arms on the sill, she rested her head on the cradle her arms provided. Taking care to not look at the sun, nor down at Leith, she admired the countryside.
The breeze wafting up from the forest was cool and smelled of heather. The perfume on the air lulled her to sleep and she slipped off to dreamland. It was the cold that woke her just before a knock came to her door. Clouded in darkness, the landscape was totally different. The lands were covered with dark mounds of trees and the moat around the castle was pitch black.
“Miss Thompson?” a calm but concerned voice said from her door. She sat up and wiped her face.
“Yes?” Mary said while standing and closing the shutters. She went to the middle of the room and met the woman there. Dressed in dark greys and a simple braid in her hair, Mary knew this woman was a lower servant.
“Ye are requested to supper, Miss, but if ye would like to have yer meal here—”
“No, no,” Mary rushed and winced at how she had cut the woman off with unnecessary force. “I’ll be at supper. Will you give me a moment to get myself together?”
“Of course, Miss,” the servant said as she stepped away. “I’ll be just outside.”
When the door closed, Mary went to her sack and took another dress, a dark green one that was not as soiled as the one she had on. She then took out her comb, had the tangles out in moments and curtaining around her shoulders. She would have pinned all her hair up with combs, but she had left them all behind.
Following the maid, Mary made it to the great hall. From halfway down the corridor, Mary could hear noise and merrymaking inside. The woman held the door open for her, and swallowing over a dry throat, Mary stepped inside. The moment she did, the uproar of the hall quickly dipped to a hush, but she spotted Leith at the high table, next to Laird Robasdan, and some more people, and locking her eyes on him, made her way there.
The hush began to change back into happy chatter. She went to the high table just as Leith came for her and took her hand. She ducked her head as she could feel the stares of the people digging into her back and front. Her cheeks were getting pink as Leith helped to a seat. She was not expecting him to dip his head
and whisper, “Ye look lovely, lass. Dinnae mind them.”
Uncomfortable with being the center of the clan’s attention, Mary tried to take Leith’s words to heart, “Thank you,” she replied, her voice as shaky as the trembling in her legs.
The table was not as long as she would have expected. It was short and rough to encourage conversation but long enough to meet the standards of what a lord’s table should be. She met the smiling eyes of Lady Robasdan, at one end of the table with her husband, who lifted her goblet to her and Mary felt comforted by her look. Laird Robasdan was speaking to a woman over his shoulder who looked at her and nodded quickly. Mary tensed a little but decided to not overthink it.
There were three men and two women sitting along the length of the table, and she met their gazes briefly. One of the women and two of the men had a vague resemblance to Laird Robasdan.
“Miss Thompson,” Leith said, “Meet Logan and Adair Allanach, Laird Robasdan’s cousins, and Conall Smithson, the Laird’s steward.”
The two younger men had thick dark hair and blue-green eyes, one lighter than the other. The steward was bald but his gaze was sharper than an eagle with its sights on prey. She shivered under his look but managed to smile at him. His stare mellowed as he gave her a tiny nod.
“Lady Davina McCreery and Lady Catriona Tulloch,” Leith finished. “Lady Robasdan’s closest friends.”
“So, yer the Sassenach,” Lady McCreery huffed, with her nose tilting up in disdain.
“Sassenach?” Mary said in confusion.
“It means outsider, dear,” Lady Tulloch said kindly while shooting a scathing look to the other woman. Somehow, Mary doubted that was all it meant. “Ye ken, I’ve been planning to go to England soon. What are the newest fashion trends at home?”
“I cannot tell you, Lady Tulloch,” Mary said kindly, “I was kept away from things like that. Though we had wealth, my parents lived very simple lives. The last thing I can remember being made of silk was a gown and a ribbon I had when I was seven. I’ve been wearing plain cotton from then and I am three-and-twenty.”
A surprised look crossed the Lady’s face. “My, my, dear, ye’ve shocked me. I was here kenning that all ye English ladies made it a point to be fashionable in all seasons.”
“Some do,” Mary replied, “and the Lords too, but I am not one of them.”
“Well, good for you dear,” Lady Tulloch said then turned to speak with her companion.
Mary let out a small breath and then looked over to the people in the hall. She turned to Leith who was sitting beside her, “Where are these people from then?”
“Besides us,” Leith began, “are some nobles, but in the hall are the Laird’s servants, all from the groundsman to the headman.”
“He eats with his servants?” Mary dropped her voice to a nearly strangled whisper. The very notion felt absurd to her. Back home, it was unspeakable for a lord to dine with his servants. “Truly?”
“Truly,” Leith nodded. “Do ye like wine?” Leith asked as he settled beside her.
“I don’t drink it much,” Mary admitted. “My family had it rarely even though we had stacks of it in our cellar. When I do drink it, I like it sweet.”
Leith’s gesture to someone was a bit curious and soon her goblet was being filled. She tasted the wine and was shocked that is was rich and sweet.
“How did you get this?”
“The clan had codes and gestures for everything,” Leith grinned over his goblet. “I picked up on a few.”
Mary sipped her wine as the large doors to the side opened and people bearing many trays came in. Platters of meats, dark beef, fowl baked golden, venison and even steamed fish covered with carrots and vegetables were carried in to be served.
She didn’t know what to do at first, but following what the Ladies did, she reached for the platters and took slivers of beef, roasted fowl and baked beets brushed with honey. She took a roll of bread too and ate. Her family might have curtailed a lot of things, but food was not one of them. She had beef before but it was not this spiced and savory. Making the mistake of using the tip of her tongue to lick a drop of the sauce, she met Leith’s eyes that were locked on her. She froze.
His lips thinned and his face went grave as he turned away to reach for his goblet. Mary went back to her food, swallowing thickly over the lump in her throat. Have I displeased him some way?
She continued to eat but the flavor felt different in her mouth. Halfway through the meal, Leith abruptly excused himself and left. She saw Laird Robasdan eye him then look at her. She felt discomfited under his gaze and then looked toward where Leith had left. Again, she asked herself if she had done something.
Her appetite almost vanished as her worry increased. She was stuck in indecision, wanting to go to him but fearing that leaving would give the whole room a false impression of their connection. She nibbled on the bread listlessly while darting looks over to the door. The Laird wiped his mouth and stood, leaned in to say something to his wife then came over to her.
“Please,” he said, “come with me.”
Nervously, she stood and followed him through the same doors Leith had taken, and went into the cool, dim night. She followed Laird Robasdan down a path into a clearing and then she realized it was the same one she had seen Leith take earlier.
Together they came to the same garden where there were places to sit in seclusion, but they still did not find Leith there. Worry tightened her stomach for the moment she could not find him.
“Where could he be?”
“Behind ye, lass,” Leith’s quiet voice came from behind her.
10
Mary spun to see him lingering in the shadows of a shelter, but he could not bear looking at her, instead, he directed his gaze to Laird Robasdan. “What can I do ye for, Tarrant?”
“Is there any reason ye stormed out of me hall like the devil was nipping at yer heels?” Laird Robasdan asked. “Was the food nay to yer liking?”
Leith’s eyes were narrowed to slits and he huffed quietly, “Nay, Tarrant, its nay ye.”
“Then what is?”
“I—” Leith’s hand ranked through his hair aggressively. “All I can say it’s nay ye, Tarrant.” Was his friend so blind? No, Leith could not believe it. Tarrant had to see what his problem was.
No matter how, he had vowed to himself to not heed to the temptation that took him when he was near the lass. In truth, he had recognized it from the moment he had laid eyes on Mary, but when she had told him her story, he had stepped away.
She is innocent. Too innocent for me.
That was the mantra in his head for the past fifteen plus hours. But now, a mere ten minutes ago, his iron-clad composure had taken a battering when she had licked her lips. He’d had to run. The simple act had carried with it the force of an avalanche from the Ben Navis Mountains, slamming through his guards and letting the desire he had pinned behind them for Mary, free and rioting.
Tarrant snorted. “Well, at least me cook won’t be insulted. I’ll leave ye to yer brooding, Lenichton. Miss Thompson, I’ll take ye back to—”
“Nay, if ye would leave her. I’ll take Mary back meself,” Leith blurted.
Tarrant paused then a slow smile tugged at his lips. He then leaned in. “Couldnae pass a day, could ye?”
“Oh, shut yer gob,” Leith huffed. “Dinnea ye have someone else to annoy?”
Clapping Leith’s shoulder, Tarrant grinned. “I do, but yer me favorite.”
“Ass,” Leith chuckled and gestured for the Laird to leave. He eyed Mary who was lingering at the edges of the green as a nervous as a filly. She kept shifting as if she was thinking of leaving but was forcing herself to stay. He approached her as if he would a wary animal.
He was about to speak when she blurted out, “Was it me? Did I do something?”
Taken aback, he regrouped and shook his head, “Nay lass, it’s me.”
“How is it you?” She asked, “Did you get any word about your father? Has he taken
a bad turn?”
Oh, what a sweet, innocent soul.
“Nay, Mary,” he replied. “It’s nay me Faither….‘twas ye.”
“Me?” she exclaimed. “How was it me?”
In the tender moonlight, her loose hair framed her pastel face, pale with a warm hint of rose in her cheeks, and her blue eyes shone like luminous gemstones. Her lips beckoned to be kissed, but he wanted to stay away. He had to stay away.
“Yer innocent, very pure, Mary. I’m nae. In me younger years, a woman was taken for granted. I’ve seen many and been with me fair share. Over time, as I grew out of my wilder days, it takes me a while to notice a woman…but nay with ye.”
He came closer knowing that to continue on this path could be a massive mistake, but he could barely stop himself. Foreign, wanton thoughts, for which he knew he would surely burn in hell if he continued down this line of thought flooded his mind. Yet, this felt natural.
Mesmerized by a Roguish Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 8
