‘What kind of talk?’ he asked.
‘Aila called her a whore. She was a little wounded by it, I think.’
‘Aila has a sour temper and vicious nature. Ignore her.’
‘Aye, well, that’s as maybe, but this Cecily is far too well-bred to pass as a servant. If you let her mingle with the others, she will tell her tale, and they’d not welcome her anyway. The gossip has spread as to what she is to you, Peyton. I think it is about time you decided.’
‘I am thinking about it, Bertha.’
‘Well, think about it quickly. ‘Tis not fair to lock her up in that tower with only a bucket for her ablutions. She is but a wee lass and frightened. And you cannot have her family come looking and raising hell. You will have to put her somewhere safe. What about that abbey in the East March? It was good enough for Lowri.’
‘It was not, and I had harsh words with the abbess, so I doubt she’ll want to see my face again.’ He sighed. ‘I will go and deal with this lass once and for all.’
Peyton took the stairs upwards two at a time. Though she was a burden, part of him looked forward to sparring with Cecily MacCreadie, and the sight of her bonnie face wouldn’t go amiss either. He barged in, and she leapt from her perch by the window and glared at him.
‘What are you doing? What do you want?’ she said breathlessly.
‘We are taking a walk, and you will need this jacket,’ he said, shrugging off his old green jacket and holding it out. It was the best he could do. ‘And don’t try to run away, or I will catch you and punish you.’
The back of her hand came to her mouth. Was she dreading another kiss? Probably. By now, Peyton was pretty sure that he sickened Cecily MacCreadie.
She donned the jacket, and after holding its collar to her nose and sniffing it, she followed him downstairs passively enough and out into the yard. Aila and some of the other lasses glowered as they crossed the yard, so Peyton grabbed Cecily’s hand firmly enough that she could not recoil.
Outside the curtain wall, the wind was vicious despite a weak sun, and Cecily snuggled into the jacket. Peyton dragged her along in silence until they were well away from Fellscarp’s prying eyes and ears at the far end of a rocky promontory, which curved to form a bay at one end. They stood in awkward silence for a while, apart from the slap of water against the rocks.
‘Have you been well in my absence?’ he said, dropping Cecily’s hand and picking up a pebble.
‘As if you care.’
‘Your bruises are fading, and you’ve more colour in your cheeks.’
They reddened at his staring, and she looked away. Peyton skipped the pebble across the water and stole a glance. The jacket brought out the hint of green in her eyes, and he fought the urge to stare into them.
‘This loch is huge,’ she said, watching the pebble’s progress.
‘It’s no loch. It’s a tidal inlet, and it catches the wind sweeping off the estuary. Out there in the far distance is the gateway to the Solway Firth and beyond, the Irish Sea.’
‘I’ve never seen the sea.’
‘You should. It is quite a grand sight, stretching forever. It has a power and beauty of its own. But it does send a cold wind sweeping up the Firth, which is why your chamber, or your prison as you like to call it, is so cold.’
Cecily gave him a sharp look for mocking her. ‘Why build a home in such a windswept, damp place?’
‘Because my Strachan ancestors were fools.’
‘So is that your name - Peyton Strachan?’ she said, meeting his eye. The wind caught her hair and swept golden strands about her face. He could stare at Cecily for hours and not get enough of that face.
He smiled. ‘Aye, Peyton Ruari Strachan is my name, and I am Laird of Clan Strachan. I dream of building inland – a new home, grander, more defensible, but comfortable, away from the water. But that is a long way off, I think.’
‘Well, we all have dreams that lead us astray and come to nought,’ she said bitterly, biting her lip, and Peyton wished she would not, for that mouth was infinitely kissable. He didn’t need another reason to stare at it.
‘So, Cecily MacCreadie, what do you know of us Strachans?’
‘Not much. You were rarely spoken of at Fallstairs. But I heard there was a fight a while back with other clans and that you lost.’
Peyton bit back humiliation. ‘Is that it? How can you not know about your neighbours, lass?’
‘I was kept close at Fallstairs by my father. Rowenna got out, but she is bolder than I and not…well, she was not expected to…’
