by B. J. Scott
After a few minutes of contemplation, she raised her chin and tapped her finger against her brow. “If I pretend to go along with father’s plan, but behave in a deplorable manner, no man will want to marry me,” she muttered aloud. Her idea was not a permanent solution to her problem, but the Almighty willing, it might buy her enough time for her father to recover from his illness, and to hopefully realize there was no need to hurry a betrothal.
She closed the shutters and returned to her bed. Once she’d undressed and washed her hands and face, she blew out the candles and crawled beneath the covers—knowing full well, she’d not sleep a wink this night.
Chapter Four
Andrew entered the great hall and approached the dais, his heart growing heavy when he spotted the empty chair usually occupied by Laird MacCurtry.
“Good day, Lord Fraser. If you’ll take a seat at the head table, I will see to some food and drink immediately,” a man said.
“There is no rush, Amos.” Andrew recognized the clan steward from when he was a lad and patted him on the back. “It is good to see you again.”
Amos bowed. “I am pleased you were able to come, m’lord. If there is anything you need while you are with us, please dinna hesitate to ask. I am at your service night and day.”
“I appreciate that. How is the laird this morn?” Andrew asked, hoping for good news.
“Not well, I am sorry to say.” Amos lowered his gaze, his expression somber. “According to Donella, he had a very restless night and she fears the end is near.”
“You mustna give up hope. From what I heard his lordship’s illness came upon him suddenly, so may resolve itself the same way.” Andrew wanted to believe this was true, but after his meeting with the MacCurtry, he had serious doubts about his recovery.
“I pray you are right, m’lord.” Amos lifted his chin and pointed at the dais. “Please sit. I am sure Lady Mareal will be joining you shortly. I have asked her maid to fetch her.”
“I will be seated, but first have a boon to ask.” Andrew retrieved a folded piece of vellum he had tucked in his tunic.
“Of course. What is it you require, m’lord?”
Andrew handed Amos a missive he wrote to his father, explaining the laird’s deteriorating condition, the reason he summoned him, and a request for Elise’s assistance in preparing Mareal for marriage. “Can you see that this is delivered to Fraser Castle? It is important my father receives it as soon as possible.”
“Aye, m’lord.” Amos clutched the note in his hand. “I will see it is sent out with our swiftest messenger.” After offering a quick bow, he left the hall.
Relieved to know that if all went according to his plan, Elise would be here in four days, Andrew again focused his attention on the dais. While he would much rather find a spot at a table amongst the villagers, or eat with Seamus and the castle guards, he knew it was customary for invited guests to take their meals at the laird’s table and all would expect him to follow that tradition. Especially since the MacCurtry asked him to function as laird on his behalf. Shoving his own wishes aside, he rounded the long trestle table and out of respect for Lorne, he took a seat next to the one the MacCurtry usually occupied.
He watched as the members of Clan MacCurtry filed into the hall—the din of laughter and hum of conversation reaching a fevered pitch that Andrew at times found deafening. Some of the faces he recognized, but many of the lads he befriended when he fostered here were either grown or had moved on. Regardless, he still felt very much at home. It was almost as if no time had passed and he was still a lad.
Unfortunately, time did move on, and he wasn’t sixteen anymore. As the fond memories faded, his mind shifted back to the present and why the laird summoned him. Andrew stared at the door, wondering if Mareal might decide to come down to break her fast, and if his body would once again betray him. He’d convinced himself after their initial encounter that the less time he spent in her company, the better, and still believed it to be true. But he’d promised her father to find her a husband, so he would have no choice but to spend time in her company until he honored his vow. She had made it clear that she had no desire to wed, so he’d not be surprised if she continued to reject her father’s wishes, and did her utmost to thwart his efforts to honor the laird’s request.
“Good morn, Lord Fraser.” Maggie bobbed a curtsy.
Andrew stared at the maid.
“Forgive me, m’lord.” Maggie bobbed a curtsy. “I dinna mean to interrupt your thoughts.” She placed an empty trencher on the table in front of Andrew, then handed him an eating knife. Cook has prepared a great deal of food in your honor. I hope you are hungry.”
“Starving,” Andrew declared as he poured himself a tankard of ale.
“Good. You rested well, I hope,” she added.
“Aye,” he lied. In truth he’d scarcely slept a wink, and spent hours tossing and turning. When he did manage to drift off, Mareal’s face haunted his dreams and he forced himself to awaken. He cursed beneath his breath. The lass hadn’t entered his thoughts in over nine summers, and now he’d seen her, she was all he could think about.
This must stop, he thought to himself. Once Elise arrives, you can keep your distance from Mareal and concentrate on finding her a husband. Until then, you must fight these unwelcomed musings. He brought the tankard to his lips and drank deeply.
“I apologize for my tardiness. Hopefully, I dinna keep you waiting too long, Andrew,” Mareal said.
Still brooding about how to approach their next meeting, and to get her to comply with her father’s demands, the soft sultry lilt of Mareal’s voice caught Andrew off-guard. He jerked his head in her direction, choked on his ale, and began to sputter.
Maggie leaned in close to Mareal and whispered. “It appears his lordship is easily caught woolgathering.”
“I dinna mean to startle you, Andrew,” Mareal said.
Andrew coughed to clear his throat and narrowed his gaze. Instead of a lass clad in a man’s tunic and trews, a stunning young woman stood before him. She wore an emerald gown that hugged the curves of her slender figure and revealed enough creamy flesh at the bodice to leave him wondering what lay a little lower, and craving more. Freshly bathed, the delicate aroma of lavender and heather scented oils enveloped her. With her chestnut hair combed, braided, and bound with a leather thong, she was breathtaking. This was not the disheveled dirty-faced lass he’d seen last night or remembered as a bairn.
You are here to find her a husband and not to court her, he quickly reminded himself as he rose and met her gaze. “You dinna startle me, Mareal, and you are na late. If you’ll take your seat, the meal can commence.” He watched as she rounded the table, then held the back of her chair until she sat.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Thank you m’lord, you are most kind.”
His chest constricted when their eyes met, and he suddenly felt weak in the knees. Things were worse than he’d imagined, and he fought to keep his desires at bay. Elise couldn’t arrive soon enough.
Upon returning to his own chair, he continued to study her before speaking. Not only was he amazed that she’d come to break her fast looking every bit a lady, but her amiable demeanor puzzled him. The feisty lass he remembered from his youth was as tenacious as a wolfhound with a bone when riled or determined to get her way. When last they were together, she was as irate as a spitting cat, prompting him to wonder what she might be up to. “You were so angry last night, I wasna sure you would join me this morn.”
She shrugged. “I had a lot on my mind. I am worried about my da and have na been myself of late.”
“That is quite understandable,” Andrew replied, but his gut told him there was more to it than she was sharing.
“When Amos sent Glenna to fetch me, she informed me the morning meal wouldna be served until I arrived. Since I couldna keep hungry men waiting, I came anon.” Her pleasant expression suddenly became sullen and with downcast eyes, she continued. “However, I did stop by father
’s chamber on my way. The reason I was late.”
“How is he?” While already aware of the laird’s condition, Andrew thought it was only polite to ask. He also knew how close the laird was to his daughter and had witnessed firsthand how he perked up when she returned from riding. He hoped a visit from her might have improved his spirits this morning as well.
“He was asleep, so I dinna get to speak to him. His face is so pale and gaunt, but he looked to be at peace.” She glanced away, her voice cracking with emotion. “I will look in on him again after breaking my fast,” she muttered, then quickly caught a tear with the back of her hand as it rolled down her cheek.
When she spoke of her father, she lowered her defenses, revealing a tender, more vulnerable side he’d never seen before. Andrew’s heart gave a tug. She was clearly upset about her father’s rapidly deteriorating health and he wanted to comfort her. Instead, he battled the urge to take her into his arms, to hold her close, and to tell her that all would be well. In his opinion, to do so would be a huge mistake, and do nothing to change the inevitable. If anything, he feared it would make things more awkward between them.
“Have you made plans to go riding again today?” Andrew asked, hoping to lighten the mood and change the subject. He remembered it was something she loved to do when she was a bairn, and given that is where she was when he arrived at the castle, she still did.
Mareal stiffened and glared at him. “What concern is it of yours?” she snapped, then softened her tone. “I mean, why do you ask?” She lowered her gaze and twisted the corner of the arisaidh she wore draped around her shoulders.
Puzzled by her behavior and attire, Andrew stroked his chin before responding to an outburst that she quickly stifled in an obvious attempt to curb her tongue. The strong-willed lass with a quick temper was what he was accustomed to seeing, but he could not explain her sudden restraint. His gut told him she was up to something, but for now, he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, but intended to keep an eye on her.
“I was merely curious.” He filled a pewter goblet with ale and handed it to Mareal. “When you were a bairn, you rode well and often. I canna remember a time when Kayden and I went out on horseback that you dinna follow us. Since you were out riding when I arrived yesterday and na here to greet me, I assumed it is something that still gives you pleasure.”
“Had I known we were expecting you, I might have been here,” she said. “What you say is true. I have always felt at home atop a horse, but pleasure isna the only reason I ride.” After taking a sip of ale, she placed the goblet on the table and wiped her mouth with a square of linen.
“What other reason could there be for you to go out unescorted?” Andrew asked as he tried not to stare at her pouty heart-shaped lips and imagined what they might taste like should he lean in and kiss her.
“In addition to my duties as the laird’s daughter, I also assist Donella. She is getting old and canna see to the crofters who live on the fringes of the MacCurtry estate as easily as she once did,” Mareal explained. “She has also been at my father’s side since he took ill, so someone needs to see to the rest of the clan if they are injured or ailing.”
“You are trained in the healing skills, I take it?” He recalled her mother was a talented healer, so it made sense that Mareal might have inherited her skill.
“Aye. It is an art passed down from generation to generation on my mother’s side of the family. While I was still young when she died, she taught me many things afore she passed on. Rest her soul.” Mareal quickly mumbled a prayer. “Donella continued my training once my mother was gone. I tend to the sick or wounded when she canna do it herself.”
“I am sure Donella finds you most helpful, as do those you care for. But to venture out alone, or without letting anyone know where you are going is dangerous.” He did his best not to sound controlling, but he felt the need to reinforce her father’s orders to never leave the stronghold without an escort. He knew from experience that demanding she not do something was the fastest way to get her to rebel.
Mareal inclined her chin and caught Andrew’s gaze. “If you must know my plans for the day, I will be visiting several people on the outskirts of the village later this afternoon.”
“With an escort, I hope.” Andrew frowned when she didn’t reply. “Your father was adamant that you do na leave the keep without taking a guard along for protection, and he expects you to return afore dark.” He hoped if the demand sounded like it came from her father and not him, she might comply, but given her refusal to answer his question, he was obviously mistaken.
“Do you plan to take along an escort?” Andrew asked again.
“Only a person gifted with second sight can predict when someone will take ill, or a babe will decide to enter the world,” Mareal said. “I certainly canna have one of my father’s warriors sitting around doing naught while I am waiting for a babe’s arrival, or for a fever to break.” She lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “Besides, I can take care of myself.”
“Will you tell that to a thief or murderous blackguard who decides to accost you on the roadside?” Andrew managed to maintain an even, nonthreatening tone, but as the conversation progressed, he found it increasingly difficult to remain calm. “I am na so sure they will take your word for it, and would hate for anything to happen to you. No one forbid you to leave the stronghold, just that you need to take someone along.”
“I can outride most men, can hold my own with a sword, and shoot an arrow straight when called upon to do so. My father saw to my training.”
Andrew knew this to be true, but she was still a woman, and the laird’s daughter. There was no telling what scoundrels might be lurking in the shadows, wishing to do her harm or to take her captive. Mareal’s courage and determination to help others reminded him so much of his mother and aunts, but he was responsible for her until she married and duty-bound to see her safe.
“While I am here, I request that you na leave the castle without someone to accompany you. Your da will rest easier if he knows you are safe, and I am sure you dinna want to do anything to make his condition worse.” As a last resort, he tried to appeal to her sense of duty as a daughter and her love for her da. But when Mareal’s brow furrowed, she fisted her hands in her lap, and she stared at the table rather than answer him, he knew he’d failed at the attempt.
“Do I have your word, Mareal?”
Without saying anything, Mareal stood and headed toward the door of the great hall.
After bounding to his feet, Andrew followed her and cupped her elbow, halting her retreat. “Where are you going?”
“To my chamber.” Her tone cool and sharp, she refused to look at him.
“You havena broken your fast, nor have you answered my question.”
“I have lost my appetite and willna make promises I dinna intend to keep.” Mareal glared at his hand on her elbow. “If you will please release me, I wish to leave.” She tugged her arm free and darted for the door.
Although he wanted to give chase, and insist she agree to his request, Andrew remained in the hall. He’d already ruffled her feathers and decided it best to let her calm down before attempting to confront her again. It was obvious to him, she was not going to surrender without a fight, but neither was he. He’d give her a chance to gather her thoughts and think about what he said, but would not let down his guard, not where Mareal was concerned.
Chapter Five
Mareal entered the stable and quickly closed the door behind her. She could not believe that Andrew thought he could suddenly show up and start giving her orders. She was not trying to be difficult, but there were ailing and injured members of the clan who depended on her visits, and she would not let them down. The challenge would be to get away before he realized she was gone.
“Is my mare ready?” Mareal asked the stable lad.
“Aye, m’lady. Groomed and saddled as you requested.” The lad led her horse forward, then handed her the reins.
&
nbsp; “Good. I have several people to visit today and would like to be home afore dark.” She secured a satchel filled with healing supplies to the back of the saddle before mounting. “Please dinna mention my departure to anyone, especially Lord Andrew.”
The lad looked puzzled. “But Lord Andrew is—”
“That will be all, Ian.” Andrew led his destrier out of the shadows, cutting the lad off before he could finish. “You did an excellent job readying our mounts and we willna need anything else. You may get on with your chores.”
“Why are you here, and where do you think you are going?” Annoyed by Andrew’s smugness, Mareal didn’t bother to hide her ire.
“Where you go.” Andrew threw his leg over the horse’s back and mounted with ease. “It has been a long time since I was here, so I wish to check out the laird’s property, and mayhap will see some old friends.”
“You are na welcome. I have sick people to tend, and dinna want you tagging along and slowing me down.” She narrowed her gaze and planted her hands on her hips. “I prefer to do this alone, as I have in the past.”
Andrew nudged his horse forward. “Things are na as they once were. I am here now, and I am going with you, so best na waste your breath arguing. If there is so much to do, best we get started and stop dallying.”
Mareal mounted, then scowled at him. “Why must you be such an obstinate man?”
Andrew chuckled. “I could ask you the same thing. But if I am to assist your father, I need to reacquaint myself with his holdings. I could also use some fresh air, and promise not to bog you down.”
Aware Andrew had no intention of changing his mind, she pinned him with her stare. “Fine.” Without further argument, Mareal fisted the reins, hugged her trew-clad knees against the mare’s sides, and dug in her heels, causing the horse to bolt forward. Hanging on tightly, she cleared a rain barrel filled with oats and narrowly missed trampling one of her father’s men as she exited the stable, then raced through the bailey at full speed.
