She hadn’t asked it as a question, she simply made the statement and her accurate assessment of the situation surprised him. In fact, this day and his new wife seemed to be full of surprises. “Nay, I don’t,” he agreed. “Our pace and the terrain really will be too hard on her. I assume there is some reason why ye were afraid to leave her behind?”
“Aye. My uncle is...cruel.”
The brief pause in her comment made Niall wonder what other description of her uncle she had censored before arriving at “cruel.”
“Tomorrow we will be passing through a holding belonging to one of my allies. The mare will be well-treated there.”
Katherine gave a slight nod of her head. Then her brow furrowed and she appeared worried about something else. Looking as if she was about to confess some mortal sin, she said, “My lord—”
“I am your husband now, call me Niall.”
“Niall,” she said and took a breath as if steeling herself before launching into her confession. “I have done something, and I hope you won’t be angry, but I really saw no other option.” He tensed, but she went on. “When you arrived, did you see Tomas, the young stable boy?”
“I remember a small lad,” he said cautiously.
“Tomas’ parents are dead. He lived with his grandfather, our former stable master, but that kind, old man passed away a few months ago. Tomas continued to work in the stables, under my uncle’s new stable master, but he is as bad as my uncle. So you see, I was worried about Tomas. Without me, there really is no one who is in any position to protect him.” She paused, biting her lower lip.
“Are ye coming to the part where ye are going to tell me what ye did?” Niall asked, not attempting to cover the frustration he felt.
Katherine cringed a little at his tone. “Aye. Well, when my uncle summoned Father James to marry us, I sent a message to Tomas, telling him to follow the northwest road from the village until he reached the tree line and to wait there for us—so we could bring him with us.”
“Bring him with us?” Niall said, completely dumbfounded by her audacity. “Bring him with us?” he repeated incredulously, “Are ye asking me to steal another man’s serf?”
“Tomas isn’t a serf. His father and grandfather were hired freemen,” she assured him hurriedly.
“And why do ye think he will fare better with me as his laird?”
She leaned a little, turned, and tilted her head up so she could look him in the eyes, “My Lord—,” she paused at his stern expression and corrected herself, “Niall. If I didn’t think life with you would be a vast improvement over that with my uncle, I would not have agreed to marry you.” At the look of doubt on his face, she said, “I know King David ordered this marriage, but I would have joined the nuns at St. Oda’s before consenting to marry a man like Ambrose Ruthven.” Although surprised by the intensity of her statement, he knew it didn’t take much to be a better man than Ruthven. Still, he took some bit of pleasure in hearing his new wife say it.
“Diarmad,” he called to his commander, riding in the lead.
“Aye, Laird?”
“There will be a lad waiting for us as we reach the tree line.”
“Aye, Laird. I’ve already seen a lad ducking in and out from behind the trees. He looks to be the stable-boy from Cotharach.”
“He’ll be going with us.”
“Aye, Laird.” Diarmad quietly chuckled.
Niall glanced at Katherine’s face. Almost undone by the brilliant smile she gave him, he could do nothing but stare. She blushed, dropped her head, and turned away from his gaze to face front, but that brush with delight unsettled him. He did not need a wife, he reminded himself. He believed a wife could only be a distracting nuisance. He certainly did not need a wife whose smile made him forget everything except thinking of ways to make her smile again. He had learned the hard way that a soft body and pretty face can blind a man to treachery.
When they reached Tomas, Fingal called to him and pulled the lad up onto his saddle. It didn’t take Tomas long to begin chattering and asking Fingal a never-ending stream of questions.
Two
Katherine could hear Tomas’ chattering, but couldn’t concentrate on his words. Niall hadn’t exaggerated, they travelled at a brutal pace. Katherine’s back became extremely painful as the day wore on. She couldn’t stand the friction created by resting against her new husband’s rock hard chest, yet holding her body forward made her muscles ache unbearably.
She wondered if Niall noticed the white-knuckled grip she had on the edge of the saddle, or if she appeared as stiff and uncomfortable as she felt. She had told him earlier that she could ride “very well,” but he was probably questioning the truth of that now.
Only stopping briefly once to water the horses, they travelled for hours. Finally, shortly before sunset, they stopped for the night in a clearing near a small loch. Niall lifted her off the horse and looked her in the face, seeming startled.
“Lass, ye look pale and exhausted. How can riding for a few hours drain ye so profoundly? Go rest,” he said, dismissing her, and he turned back to his horse to settle him for the night.
Katherine ignored his rude assessment of her, she was used to worse. Tired and sore, she needed to move a bit to loosen her stiff joints. She looked around and seeing Stormy, walked over to her. Her pet whinnied and tossed her head as Katherine approached. It had clearly been a hard day for the mare, too, even without a rider. She stroked Stormy’s velvet nose and leaned her head against the horse’s strong neck. Her father had given her the beautiful grey and Katherine had adored Stormy immediately. After her father’s death her beloved horse became a refuge. When things became too difficult, she could escape, and, even if only briefly, forget her grief while flying across a meadow on Stormy’s back.
How would she be able to bear giving her away tomorrow? Her throat felt tight while unwanted tears welled in her eyes. Forcing the tears back, Katherine whispered, “It is for the best, my pretty girl,” as if the horse had been the one about to cry. In an effort to regain control, Katherine walked a short distance into the clearing, pulled up a large handful of grass with which to rub Stormy down, and returned to the mare. She enjoyed grooming her pet and found the simple, mindless action calming. She had barely started when she heard Niall bellow, “Katherine, I said rest! Tomas, see to your lady’s horse.”
The abrupt order startled Katherine and she lost the last little bit of her remaining control. Tomas rushed to her and took over the task. She walked to the edge of the clearing, determined not to let anyone see her cry. She had learned years ago that tears not only gave her uncle power over her, but also delighted him. In an effort to deny him this pleasure, she had learned how to control her emotions. Sometimes she couldn’t hold the tears back altogether, but she could usually master them until she found a place to be alone. Keeping her back to the Highlanders, she took a few steps into the trees and sat down on the roots of a great oak, pulling her knees to her chest. In pain, exhausted, and with an aching heart, she buried her face in her knees and wept.
She cried out her pain and fear until her tears were spent. Then, once again in control, she sat there in the deepening gloom with her head resting on her knees, allowing the evening breeze to cool her cheeks and dry her tears. She took stock of the day. Aye, her king had all but forced her to marry a stranger. In fact, the rather large man she had married frightened her a bit, but, as she had boldly admitted to him earlier, she believed him to be a vast improvement over her uncle. Tomorrow she would lose her beloved Stormy, but Niall had assured her the gentle grey would be well cared for. She worried about those of her father’s people left under her uncle’s tyrannical rule, but she had managed to keep Tomas, the most vulnerable of them all, safe. All things considered, she told herself she had every reason to feel hopeful.
She knew she needed to rejoin the rest of them, but she hadn’t quite found the courage yet when Tomas slipped up beside her. “Are ye done crying?” he asked.
Horrorstruck, she said, “Do they all know I was crying?”
“Nay, just me, cuz I know ye.”
Relieved, she said “Aye. I’m done crying. You won’t tell them?” she asked, smiling at him conspiratorially.
“Nay, I won’t. I know ye don’t like people to see when ye cry. Since ye aren’t crying now though, why don’t ye come back? Moyna packed supper and she put in the nut bread ye love.”
Katherine laughed, “You can’t fool me, Tomas. You love that nut bread almost more than I do.”
Tomas grinned and took her hand as they walked back to the campsite. When Katherine noticed Niall watching her, she blushed, wondering if in the twilight he could see her red, swollen eyes.
~ * ~
Niall had been watching Katherine discreetly from the time they dismounted. Her pallid appearance when they stopped had him convinced she bordered on collapse, but she had defied his order to rest. He watched her walk into the edge of the forest. He could just see her sitting on the other side of a large oak, finally resting as he had ordered. He hoped her earlier obstinacy did not indicate things to come. He would not tolerate defiance.
When the men had settled their horses, they opened the package of food sent with them from Cotharach, while Niall continued to watch her. Although she sat upright, she didn’t move. Her stillness made him wonder if she had fallen asleep. He started to walk across the clearing to get her when Tomas hopped up in front of him saying, “I’ll get Lady Katherine, she loves nut bread.”
Niall nodded slightly, letting the lad go. When Tomas returned with her, Niall was struck again by her beauty. The priest had called her radiant when she appeared in the great hall just before their wedding, and he had silently agreed. He found her stunning. Seeing her now, holding the lad’s hand and laughing with him, once more took his breath away. He had overheard the priest’s words to her earlier and now they echoed in his mind,
My dear, I am certain you will be a wonderful wife and mother
. He frowned, chiding himself silently for being a fool. He knew very well what master manipulators women could be. Would he never learn? He only wanted this illusion to be true, so the sooner he drove out these romantic notions, the better.
His men spread the food Moyna sent on a low, flat rock, appearing to fully enjoy the change from the oatcakes and dried meat they usually ate while traveling. After selecting some food for herself and Tomas, Katherine moved to sit where Niall indicated, on a plaid spread on the ground. Tomas plopped down beside her, chattering about all the exciting things he had learned from Fingal. “Fingal says he and the other men are not just ordinary soldiers.”
“Nay?” she responded.
“Nay,” he said firmly. “They are the laird’s eeleet guard. Do ye know what eeleet means?” Without waiting for an answer, Tomas went on, “I asked Fingal and he told me it means they are special. They are the best warriors in the clan. Ye know what else Fingal told me? The laird’s castle is called Duncurra and Fingal said it is in the middle of a loch. Cotharach is by a loch, but I wonder how ye build a castle in a loch?”
Although everything in his head screamed at Niall to keep his distance from the enticing woman, he brought his food and sat on the plaid with Katherine and Tomas.
“Laird MacIan, how can a castle be built in water?” asked Tomas boldly.
“It isn’t built in the water, Tomas. Duncurra is built on a crag that juts into the loch, so it has water on three sides,” Niall explained. Tomas continued to chatter and ask questions until they had finished eating. It seemed for every answer Tomas received, he had at least two more questions, but like Fingal had all afternoon, Niall patiently answered them all.
The lad amused Niall, and Tomas’ excitement about his new home pleased him. After they had finished eating, Fingal walked to where they sat and said, “Excuse me, Laird. It has not escaped my notice that there might be a lad hiding under the wee mound of dirt there beside ye. I thought perhaps it would be a good idea to give it a rinse in the loch and see.”
Niall answered, “Ah, Fingal, ye might be right, because now that ye mention it, I have never heard a mound of dirt talk as much as this one.” Katherine laughed and for the second time that day she rewarded Niall with a heart-stopping smile. Raw desire rose unbidden and once more he forced himself to remember he did not want this marriage, no matter how bonny a smile his new wife had. “In fact,” he added, “I think I will join ye.” Niall rose and walked toward the loch, accompanied by Diarmad, and two other guardsmen, Alan and Keith.
Fingal scooped a squirming Tomas up under his arm and followed. “But I don’t need a bath,” moaned Tomas.
“Trust me, ye do,” Fingal said firmly.
Katherine laughed again. “Behave, Tomas,” she admonished with mock severity. The enchanting sound of Katherine’s laughter followed Niall. He could not deny he desired his lovely little wife, but his wedding night would have to wait until they reached Duncurra. Niall suspected the chilly loch water would do little to cool his desire. Suddenly, he realized he had one more excellent reason to hurry home. While he didn’t need or want a wife, having his bed warmed by this lass might prove to be an unexpected boon.
~ * ~
When they reached the loch, the other men stripped and dove in, leaving Fingal to deal with Tomas. Determined to scrub off a layer of dirt and the accompanying aroma, Fingal had to wrestle Tomas out of his tunic, much to the amusement of the other men. Finally able to pull it over Tomas’ head, he stopped, looking very serious. Even in the low light, Fingal saw old, dark bruises on Tomas’ thin frame, as well as two fresh, angry lash marks on his back. With a casual calm he didn’t feel, he asked, “Lad, who took a whip to your back?”
The other men fell silent. Tomas answered quietly, “Sir Ruthven.” Niall clenched his jaw and Fingal recognized the furious expression.
“What happened?” Fingal asked, trying to keep his voice nonchalant.
Tomas looked down, embarrassed, and said “He was out until very late last night. Berty, the stable master, went to bed and made me wait in the stables until Sir Ruthven returned. Sir Ruthven was still out when the storm hit, and when he got back to Cotharach he was drenched and the horse was winded and lathered. I met him like I was supposed to and took the horse into the stable. He followed me, telling me he wanted me to take special care of his new saddle because it was very valuable. I said I would and I took it off the horse. I—I—I thought he would want me to take care of the horse first. Honest, I did. The horse looked bad, so I started to rub him down, but Sir Ruthven screamed at me, saying I was too stupid to live, and hadn’t he just told me to take care of his new saddle.”