Authors: Eve Cameron
Catriona kept her eyes downcast as she arranged the food on the table. Cook had prepared her favorites – a hearty lamb stew and fresh, thick bread with a generous portion of butter. Tea and a plate of black buns further stirred her appetite, but she drew her attention back to her friend. “If my poor mood has bothered you, I am sorry. I did no’ want to be difficult.”
A flicker of hurt briefly clouded Annella’s face. “That somethin’ is botherin’ ye is so plain even a blind man could see it. A burden shared is a burden lessened, Catriona. Will ye no’ at least let me help ye?”
“I canna do that,” Catriona sighed. Her heart was heavy as she pulled a chair over to the table, motioning for her friend to take a seat beside her.
“There’s naught so bad that ye canna get past it,” Annella offered as she settled herself in the comfortable armchair. “The whole keep knows yer in a terrible snit, an’ ye’ve worried us near sick about it.”
“Except my family,” Catriona replied with a bittersweet laugh that sounded insincere even to her own ears. “I bet my mother is delighted to have me out of her way, and my da has surely been too busy to even notice.”
Annella laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and nodded her agreement, her eyes flashing with amusement. “Yer mither told mine that the solar had ne’er been a quieter, happier place than the past few days, though I do no’ think she even realizes ye’ve taken to yer chamber.”
Catriona smiled at her friend, imagining in her mind’s eye how relieved her mother would be to be free of the burden of her youngest daughter, if only for a few days. “It’s probably better that way. There’s no point worrying everyone when there is naught they can do. I just need a little more time to figure out what
I
am going to do.”
Catriona felt her dark mood settle around her like a heavy cloak as the burden of her situation pressed upon her. Slowly, she pushed her food around the plate, feeling her appetite drain away as reality settled in.
Catriona could feel Annella’s appraising gaze upon her. With any luck, her loyal friend would assume that she was still pining for Lachlan, the man she would never have. A wry, self-deprecating smile toyed at the edge of Catriona’s lips – Elizabeth’s recklessness had at least been successful in pulling Lachlan from her thoughts and dreams. She quickly covered her smile with her slender fingers, not wanting Annella to misinterpret her sheepish grin.
Annella studied her friend intently for a few moments, unsure how to respond to her mercurial moods. “Seein’ ye lookin’ a fright, locked up here in yer room, does no good at all.”
Catriona could see the warmth and the compassion in her friend’s eyes – as well as a spark of fear. Annella was right, though. Her actions, so out of character, had surely alarmed the loyal staff of the castle. In truth, if anyone learned of what she’d seen, the consequences would be horrible. The breaking of Elizabeth’s betrothal to Lachlan would be devastating to both clans. There was little doubt that their enemies would use this discord to advantage, and more likely than not would plan some sort of raid or attack on the castles in the very near future.
It was not something she could live with, she decided with sudden clarity. Catriona decided at that moment she would tell no one of what she witnessed between her sister and her lover. What happened next was in God’s hands, for she knew that whatever decision she made herself would have dire consequences. The simplest – safest – path, then, was to take no action at all. She couldn’t bear the thought of having the blood of her kin on her hands, no matter the loyalty she felt to Lachlan.
“Yer right, Annie,” she replied, wagging a finger in her friend’s direction that stopped the maid’s comments before they could spring from her lips. “I’ve spent enough time here sulking and feeling sorry for myself.” Without another word, Catriona turned her attention to the meal, obviously finished with the topic.
Catriona’s actions made it clear that there was nothing further to discuss. With a confused shake of her head, Annella left the room, but not before she offered a silent prayer that her friend’s abrupt change of heart would not be short-lived.
Chapter 4
The clash and clang of their swords did little to take the edge off Lachlan’s dark, brooding mood. Anxiety thrummed through his body as he struggled to keep his mind on the swordplay. He and Iain had been training for most of the morning, and both were drenched with sweat as the bright spring sun reached a midpoint in the sky. Despite their light clothing – they wore only homespun shirts and tight breeks that were tucked into their leather boots – their mock battles had exhausted them both.
As Lachlan raised his left hand to wipe the moisture from his eyes, Iain took advantage of the opening and maneuvered his friend toward the stone wall that enclosed the inner bailey at Tolquhon. Lachlan struggled to regain his footing, but exhaustion and distraction had taken their toll. With a reluctant nod, he lowered his sword in surrender.
“I concede,” he said, lowering his sweat-drenched frame to the ground so he could catch his breath. As much as it galled him, there was no hiding his fatigue. Iain soon joined him, motioning to a groom to take their weapons from them as they rested against the wall.
“It is no’ often I hear you concede aught, Lachlan, let alone defeat. And to openly display yer exhaustion to the likes of them,” he said, gesturing to the men who had gathered to watch their competition, “is really quite unheard of. You were no’ yerself this morning. It was plain yer heart was no’ in it.” Iain motioned for one of the lads to bring him the bucket of water that lay nearby, and after drinking his fill, he passed it to his friend. A wry looked crossed Lachlan’s handsome features, but he too drank thirstily, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand when he had finished. “And before you say aught, it was no’ as if you let me win. I beat you fair – and if you have any honor, you will no’ claim otherwise.”
Lachlan raised his eyebrow, but eventually nodded his agreement. “Aye, you beat me, but ‘twas only because I found myself distracted. You ken better than to think you could best me unless you had some advantage.”
“Ne’er let it be said yer a gracious loser,” his friend replied, satisfied for the moment that he had been granted a victory, albeit grudgingly. There were few men who could claim that honor from Lachlan Forbes, and Iain intended to savor the achievement. Wincing at the pain of his aching muscles, he reclined his long, lean body on the ground, the grass gently cooling his exhausted body. If he was sore already, he knew there would be hell to pay on the morrow. It was unlikely he would even be able to drag his battered body from his bed, but still, it was a small price to pay for his victory. Propping his head on his arms, Iain turned to face his friend, who was peering off into the distance, a distracted, tense expression on his face. “Could it be that yer thinking about yer forthcoming wedding? Yer as jumpy as a bairn the night before Christmas, and at yer age, it is no’ a pretty picture.”
Lachlan smiled, enjoying the fresh air as it filled his lungs and calmed him. In the distance, he could see the saplings in the fields gently swaying with the force of the breeze. “If you think I’m anxious to wed yer sister, you do no’ ken me as well as you think.” Iain raised his head to get a closer look at his friend, surprised at the rueful note in his voice. “Elizabeth is bonnie enough, but I did no’ plan to be married this young. I always hoped I’d have a chance to see the world and find my place in it first.” Absently, Lachlan reached down to grab a fistful of dirt from the ground, sifting it through his fingers as he spoke. “Aye, Elizabeth is pleasing to look at, but life with her is no’ what I had in mind for myself.”
“I did no’ realize you weren’t pleased by the match,” Iain replied carefully. “You’ll tame her tongue soon enough, once yer wed, if that’s what worries you.”
Lachlan waved off his friend’s concerns with an idle gesture. “She’s a fine lass, Iain, but I’m no’ sure she and I will suit. I do no’ ken Elizabeth well, I grant you that, but she does no’ seem to be verra interested in the world around her.” Lachlan snorted, embarrassed by his analysis of his wife-to-be. “Listen to me – going on like I actually have some say in the matter. It’s no’ as if I could have my pick of lasses. What woman wants a man with but one good hand, whose family’s fortunes are all but lost, and whose lands are mortgaged to the hilt? You must think I’m an idiot.”
“The lands and the money and yer hand matter no’ at all, and you well ken it. Half the lasses in the keep hang on yer every word when you visit Boyne, or any other holding, for that matter. Nay, if you had the chance to choose a lass for yerself, you would no’ lack for suitable candidates.” Iain spoke with confidence as he reclined on the patch of grass, staring into the bright spring sky. “With my sister, you will get a lady – be sure of it – but a vainer lass I have yet to meet. She has no idea of the work it takes to run a keep. But then, she could no’ really learn those skills from my parents, you ken?” Lachlan nodded his understanding. Iain was embarrassed by his cold, distant parents, and did everything within his power to avoid them as much as possible.
“Is there someone else you fancy, then?”
Lachlan shook his head. “It would no’ matter even if there was another lass. I’ll do my duty as an oldest son and heir – just as you will when the time comes,” he added, looking pointedly at Iain, and taking satisfaction at the brief flicker of distaste that crossed his friend’s face. “But I canna help but wonder what my life might have been like if I had been born a second son. To not be burdened by duty or expectations…” he added, his voice trailing off as he stared into the distance.
Iain pushed himself slowly to his feet, and reached out a hand to help his friend up. “Do no’ fash yerself, Lachlan. If you’ve learned naught else from yer father, it should be that once you marry the right lass, and have a legitimate heir, you’ll be free to do as you please.” Lachlan smiled ruefully at his friend’s observation, but it did little to quell his sense of dread at what the future held for him. “I learned a long time ago there is naught to be gained by wishing yer life away. What is, is. There is no’ much you can do about it.”
Lachlan’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he held Iain’s gaze. “That’s easy for you to say, lad. You do no’ have to wed Elizabeth.”
###
Facing her family and the rest of the clan after hiding away for so long had been much easier than Catriona had anticipated. Her parents accepted her excuses of illness, though Catriona knew full well they did this less out of compassion and more from a general disinterest in her life. The only real sign of tension came during the evening meals in the great hall, when Catriona could feel Elizabeth’s piercing stare upon her. It was almost as if her sister was trying to bait her – to push her into responding to the scene she had witnessed. Catriona refused to rise to her sister’s challenge, and instead went out of her way to be pleasant and polite.
To her great relief, she had seen no trace of Calum since the day in the stable. She prayed he’d realized the danger he had placed them all in, and that he had moved on to another keep. But regardless of what he did, Catriona vowed to keep her own counsel. She knew it was unlikely that either Calum or Elizabeth would admit to their transgressions unless forced. Despite the guilt she felt for keeping the truth from Lachlan, Catriona was grateful that she had not been forced to acknowledge her sister’s treachery. The shame it would bring upon the clan was simply not to be borne.
It had been much harder to face her own kinsmen. The day after she resolved to put the incident behind her, she had been approached by several villagers who needed her help with a wide variety of ailments. Thankfully, none of the problems were life-threatening, but the fact that the clan had been left without medical care while she pouted in her chambers was a humbling realization.
Catriona had spent several days dispensing ointments and tinctures to treat the colds, burns, cuts and fevers that were within her power to ease. Though her skills were limited by her age and experience, she took pride in her ability to provide comfort to those in need. When she wasn’t able to help, she usually sent a rider into the city of Banff to fetch a physician. It was certainly more than her mother had ever offered, and she knew the villagers were grateful for her concern.
As the days grew warmer and longer, Catriona found herself busy from sunrise until she found her bed at the end of the day. Lambing season was particularly hectic, and she found herself spending every spare moment helping the servants attend to the animals’ needs. Much of her father’s wealth was derived from the herds of sheep they raised on the grassy pastures surrounding Boyne Castle, and everyone respected the importance of the animals to their own livelihood.
The rains were heavy and merciless for much of the late spring, with thick fog and heavy clouds most days. With the gift of rain the trees and plants slowly returned to life, forming a verdant blanket that surrounded the castle. The hillsides were covered with the yellow blossoms of gorse, which bravely stood out in sharp, defiant contrast to the dismal weather.
When the dreary clouds finally parted to reveal bright blue skies one beautiful Sunday morning, Catriona decided she could not bear to stay in the dark, overbearing castle any longer. With a quick word to Cook, she changed into a light house dress and grabbed a small basket before rushing out of the castle. At the last minute, she reached under her bed, grabbing one of the many books she had appropriated from her father’s library. If luck was with her, she would manage some stolen moments in the fresh air, far away from responsibilities and prying eyes.
Her love of books and learning had been hard won, and from experience she had learned to keep it hidden. Her mother despaired of having a daughter who was a bookish spinster, and her father thought it very improper for a young lady to have knowledge of things best left as the sole domain of men. He had seen little sense in wasting time and money educating a lass who would never have any cause to use such knowledge. Catriona knew she would not have been educated at all, were it not for the fact her father had been forced to hire a tutor to see to Iain’s education. The Earl had finally acquiesced to her persistent requests to study with the man, only after she had pointed out it would not cost him any extra coin since the teacher was already in residence.