On the night before his parents would return home, they retired to his chamber right after supper and talked and loved, knowing it would somehow be different on the morrow.
Exhausted and ready to sleep, the loud grumblings of her stomach surprised both of them.
‘Did I not feed you enough?’ he asked. They had shared food earlier, but little of it was eaten. Most of it had been smeared in places and removed in a delightful way she’d never thought of before.
‘We rushed through supper, Aidan. Worry not, for it will pass,’ she said, rubbing her hand over it.
Her appetite had grown steadily over these last weeks. So had her exertions, especially spending nights in bed with this younger man. He tired her out so much that she found herself creeping into his chambers in the middle of the day to rest. She would never tell him for fear he would not keep her awake all night long.
When it rumbled again, he got out of bed and searched in one of his trunks. Handing her a robe and pulling a shirt on, he held out his hand.
‘Come. I know where the cook leaves some food for those who arrive back later than supper.’
‘Aidan,’ she said, holding up the robe. ‘I cannot walk through the hall wearing only this.’
‘You need only walk down the steps,’ he said, pulling her hand until she slid off the bed and on to her feet. Holding out the robe for her, he waited as she wrapped it around her and tied the belt. It was too large and too long for it was made to his height and not hers. ‘I will carry you along the back corridor to the kitchens. Fear not, no one will see you.’
Once he’d made his mind up, there was no refusing him. She’d tried and lost that battle more times than she could count, so she let him take her hand and lead her down the steps of the tower to the main floor of the keep. He did scoop her up into his arms and carry her as he’d promised and they arrived in the kitchens without anyone seeing them.
He placed her on her feet and began collecting food from different bins in the larder and pantry. It was simple fare—some cheese, bread, dried figs and ale. They used a small table there, one she’d seen the cook use, and he found two stools for their use. Her stomach quieted as she ate. They continued in companionable silence. Aidan would offer her more from the various plates and she ate more than she expected.
When it was time to return to his chambers, he took her up in his arms again and she wrapped hers around his neck. If anyone who slept in the hall saw them or heard them, no one acknowledged their passage along the corridor back to the stairs. He began to put her on her feet when the doors opened and people poured into the keep.
Gair came running down the stairs now, dressed and heading for the door. As he passed, he handed a length of plaid to Aidan, who looked down at his shirt and shrugged. Wrapping it around his waist without a belt, he at least was covered. Cat tried to get around him to go up to his chambers for her garments when the laird’s loud voice rang out.
‘Aidan, come and meet Lord and Lady Sinclair and their daughter Margaret,’ he said.
She wanted to sink into the shadows then. Caught unclothed with the earl’s son by noble guests and a potential bride, Catriona thought that this had to be the most humiliating moment of her life. Worse even than when the villagers spit on her after Gowan’s burial. With nowhere to go and no way to avoid being seen when Aidan moved forward at his father’s summons, she closed her eyes and waited to be shamed once more.
‘Catriona, love,’ he whispered.
She opened her eyes and found him in front of her, shielding her from the people streaming into the hall.
‘Go upstairs and dress. I will send someone to see you back to the village.’ She nodded and began to turn away, when he touched her cheek. ‘Remember that I love you.’
His father called him again, but Aidan remained there, like a wall, waiting until she was out of sight up the stairs. She ran the rest of the way, knowing that servants would be roused from their sleep to welcome the laird and lady back and to help in getting the guests settled into their chambers.
She dressed and straightened the bedcovers and the rest of the chamber while she waited. When the knock on the door came, she was surprised to find Dougal Ruriksson there. He said little, but saw her back to the house.
The night crawled now as the reality of her situation crashed down around her. On the morrow, she would ask Ciara for her advice. Where could a widow seeking a new life settle?
Chapter Seventeen
When the lesson was done and Ciara pleased with her progress, Cat cleaned the table and put her slate and parchment in her sack. She’d been distracted all morning by the true task she’d set for herself three days ago and had not yet had the courage to complete. Ciara had excused herself to give instructions to the woman who cooked for her and left the chamber. Ciara’s children were napping, looked after by their nurse, so the house was quiet now.
The perfect time to discuss her quandary with someone who was so worldly and yet so much like any other woman.
Cat laughed then, for Ciara Robertson was unlike any other woman she’d ever met or heard of. Brought to Lairig Dubh and raised by Duncan MacLerie when her mother married him, Ciara had an education like no other and could read, write and speak in several languages. Trained by Duncan, she travelled for the laird on his business and, as she’d found, could handle delicate situations easily.
Her husband, Tavis, was Rurik’s second-in-command and high in the laird’s esteem and trust. Their marriage had happened when Ciara was abandoned at the altar by her betrothed. From what Muireall told her about that, it seemed to end well for everyone involved for Ciara and Tavis had been in love with each other for years.
So, with her education, experience, travels within and out of Scotland, surely she would have some ideas for Catriona. Where to live, what to do, how to spend her money wisely...
‘You look deep in thought,’ Ciara said as she walked back in, carrying two steaming mugs.
‘I would speak to you on a personal matter, if you have a few minutes more, Ciara.’ There. She said the words that would now force her to carry through with it.
Holding up the mugs, Ciara smiled. ‘You had that look about you all morning, and yesterday morning, and the day before, and...’ Laughing, she took a sip of her drink. ‘What do you wish to talk about?’
