Heignored her and continued, “—Where ye can have the bath ye so sorely need.”
“Please,kind sir, accept my deepest regrets if I have offended your large nose. I fearI had no time to properly ready myself for my abduction.”
“Yedo sorely try a mon’s temper, lass.”
Beforeshe could reply, they were stopped by a plump, gray-haired woman. Sorchafrowned when the woman glanced nervously toward her and hesitated to speak. Theway the woman looked toward the closed doors of the great hall several timeswas also curious. Sorcha began to feel uneasy.
“Come,Mistress Duncan, ye have ne’er been afraid to speak before,” said Ruari.
“Wehave guests, m’lord,” she replied, wringing her hands.
“Ah,weel, see that they are fed and made comfortable. I will deal with them in alittle while.” Ruari took a step toward the narrow stone stairway and frownedwhen Mistress Duncan abruptly grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Is there more?”
“Theguests are Sir Brodie, his lady wife, and their daughter Anne. They are here todiscuss the possibilities of a match between ye and the lass,” she reminded himwhen he continued to frown in confusion.
Sorchafelt her anger abruptly interrupted as a chill ran through her veins. While shehad been struggling to overcome the pain of loving and losing him, Ruari hadbeen inspecting all the local wellborn maidens to find a wife. Despite hislittle speech to her of seeking only passion and not wishing any emotionalentanglements, he clearly had every intention of marrying someone.
Asense of deep insult began to swell up inside of her. It was not a wife heobjected to, but her as a wife. She was good enough to bed, but not to wed.Sorcha suspected the unseen Anne Brodie met all the usual requirements beingwell-bred, well-mannered, and possessing the appropriate lands, money, andpowerful kinsmen. Suddenly she was desperate to be alone.
“Ibelieve ye were showing me to my chambers, m’lord,” she said, and was notsurprised to hear a distinct chill in her voice. Her emotions were too strong,too confusing, to be given free rein, so she suppressed them all and became icybut dignified. “I ache to have a bath.”
Ruarihastily ordered Mistress Duncan to see that baths were readied for Sorcha andMargaret, then led Sorcha up the stairs. He felt uneasy, almost embarrassed,and he was not sure why. He had not lied or seduced Sorcha with false promises.She also had to be fully aware of her unsuitability as a wife.
Despiteall that sound reasoning, he still felt an uncomfortable pinch of guilt and astrong urge to explain himself. That irritated him; yet, as he stopped beforethe door of the bedchamber he had chosen for her, he found that he could notvisit that irritation upon her. There was a remote coldness in her eyes he hadnever encountered before. He ached to banish it, to see the life return to herfine eyes, but he did not know how.
“Yourbath will soon be prepared, and I shall have the women find ye some cleanclothes.”
“Howkind. Now, if ye will excuse me, I am verra tired.”
Shestepped into the room and shut the door with a sharp click. Ruari sighed andheaded down to the great hall to greet the visitors he had no wish to see. Hehad entertained a lot of hopes, and they had all been abruptly, painfullydashed by a sharply closed door.
Chapter Sixteen
Aheavy sigh escaped Sorcha as she stared up at the ceiling of her bedchamber.One full day had passed since her arrival at Gartmhor, and she had only seenMistress Duncan and one timid maid. She had repeatedly refused to see Ruarieach time he had come knocking. Margaret was obviously well occupied withBeatham, and Sorcha knew it might be days before her cousin even realized thatshe had not seen anything of her.
Theworst of her shock over the news that Ruari was seeking a wife had begun tofade after the first few hours. Since then she had battled her way throughhurt, fury, and insult. At the moment she was not sure what she felt except fora strange, numbing sense of defeat. It was not a feeling she was very fond of.
“SweetJesu, ye are the saddest-looking lassie I have seen in many a year.”
Sorchatensed as that deep rich voice echoed in her mind. She knew what it meant, butwas not sure she wanted to look around to see who had decided to haunt her now.Ruari had never believed in her spirits back at Dunweare. She really did notwant him to discover that she was conversing with one at Gartmhor. Aftervaliantly struggling and failing to ignore the presence she could stronglysense in the room, she looked around.
Atthe foot of the huge carved bed she was sprawled on floated a nearly completeapparition of a man. He was tall, raven-haired, and very handsome. Sorcha wassure that she was facing one of Ruari’s late kinsmen. She sighed again for shewould have preferred someone a little less close to the disbelieving Ruari. Hewould certainly ridicule her if she claimed she was communicating with one ofhis dead relatives.
“Idinnae suppose ye can go and talk to someone else,” she said. “I really do havemore than enough trouble on my plate.”
“Thereis no one here who can see or speak to me,” the man replied, a strong hint ofmelancholy in his voice. “I have been roaming these cursed halls for nearly tenyears trying to catch someone’s eye. Ye are the first person who hasacknowledged me.”
Decidingthat she almost preferred to speak to a spirit than to be left alone with hertormenting thoughts, Sorcha sat up. “And who are ye?”
“SirIvor Kerr.” He made a sweeping bow, the short cape on his shoulders giving themovement an added grace. “I am uncle to the current laird.”
“Yedo have the look of a kinsmon of his.”
“Yedinnae make that sound like much of a compliment.”
“Justnow I dinnae consider it one.” She poured herself a small drink of sweet ciderfrom the ewer Mistress Duncan had placed upon the table by her bed. “And how isit that ye died before ye were ready?”
“Howdid ye ken that I wasnae ready to meet my maker?” he asked as he neared theside of the bed.
