Caillen had spent many an amusing hour in seraglios and incense houses in far off lands across the seas. The lady he had kissed brought those heavenly perfumed places to mind. Subtle fumes of patchouli and oud, the ripple of heavy satin curtains, and plump cushions scattered on the floors. The only fragrance he could discern coming from Mairi was roast meat and mint sauce.
He turned away and went back to his seat. Gawain was waiting to hear what his brother had to say,
“Well? Does she have happy memories about what ye did to her in the bedchamber? Are we to expect an announcement soon?”
Caillen had never been one to prevaricate, but he did not consider a feast the time and place to tell his brother his old sweetheart did nothing to inflame his desire, especially when she was sitting only a few yards away from him at the same table. And if that was not bad news enough, it was a certainty he had just spent his time upstairs trying to make love to a stranger. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably and scanned the great hall to see if some woman was looking at him accusingly, or even worse-a husband!
No one was paying him any attention, and Caillen did not know whether to be relieved or frustrated. His tryst was likely to remain a secret to everyone, including himself.
“I doubt ye’ll be hearing a betrothal announcement, Gawain, from me own side at least. And as I can safely say I wasnae the man to put the bloom on Mairi’s cheeks, I’m certain she will be in nae rush to betroth herself to me either.”
And with those words, Gawain had to be satisfied.
Highlanders loved to eat and drink with fellow Scotsmen they had not seen for a long time. After the food was finished and the best of Laird’s whisky brought to the dais, it was time for the minstrels to descend from the gallery and entertain the guests with epic poems and bards’ tales.
Caillen could eat and drink with the best of them, but he knew it would be up to him to bid the guests farewell or light them to their bedchambers, so he took small sips from his mug and watched as others drained their goblets. His father had long since retired to sleep off the effects of having to sit upright for so long. Gawain had left his chair searching for musicians; some of the younger guests wanted to get up a jig. Suddenly, Caillen felt a smart tap on his shoulder.
He jumped, thinking it might be the husband of the lady he had kissed upstairs.
It was Mairi.
“Can I sit and talk with ye awhile, Caillen?” she said with a smile. Her cheeks still looked rosy and warm, but this time it was from all the whisky and food.
Caillen stood up and pulled his brother’s abandoned chair out for her.
“How now, Mairi? Are ye come to thank me for the banquet? If so, there’s nae need-faither organized it as one of his final tasks, but I’m sure the servants would thank ye for any small sum ye choose to give them,” he said as he sat down again.
Mairi plonked herself down beside Caillen and gave a satisfied sigh, “Nay, Caillen, I’m nae here for that. I want to clear the air between us rather. Much water has flowed under the bridge, do ye nae agree?”
Caillen’s heart came into the throat when she said these words,
Oh, nay! It was Mairi in the bedchamber. It must have been me imagination that made her waist smaller and her limbs longer and slimmer. But I could swear on me life it was nae her...! Now she’ll want to hold me to our youthful pledge of love.
Mairi took Caillen’s silence for bashful reluctance and held out her hand in a halting gesture, “Now, afore ye jump right into a proposal, I want to set some things straight. I ken ye’ve been holding a candle for me all these years, Cai, and I would be lying if I said I was nae fond of ye when I were a lass,” Mairi put her hand down and patted Caillen’s knee kindly, “but, truth be told, when I look in me heart, I can only find tender affection for ye and no amount of brocade or other presents can change that. It’s ‘cause I have had another swain for the last three years, and ‘tis with him I want to marry-we have to anyway-I’ve been carrying his bairn for these four months past.”
Caillen opened and shut his mouth a few times, hoping his joy at being released from his obligations was not too evident. He managed to stutter out a few words of congratulations mixed with a hefty dose of regret and some references to all the good times Mairi and he had had in the past but insisting he was not upset at all.
Caillen was about to applaud himself for giving the acting performance of a lifetime when Mairi interrupted him.
“Aye,” Mairi grunted, “that’s always been yer problem, Cai, ye like to leave all yer romances in the past and keep them there. I wouldnae be a friend if I dinnae tell ye that if ye want a chance of finding a willing bride, ye’ll do well to find yerself a love affair ye want for the future, forever, and nae just what falls into yer lap at any place and time ye find convenient.”
On those words, Mairi got up and left Caillen alone at the table on the dais. And Caillen found that more than upsetting; he found that troubling.
Chapter Five
Emer returned to the kitchens with a thoughtful expression on her face, a rapidly beating heart, and a reddened chin.
“If I dinnae ken it was impossible, Em, I would say ye’ve been up in the east wing turret sharing a forceful embrace with an ardent swain,” Davinia joked when she saw her sister, “he must be a strong fellow with a lovely beard to be able to dothatto yer chin!”
Emer gave her sister a distracted smile and went to hand Cook the twine.
“Ye took yer time about fetching it, dinnae ye?” Cook knew how long it would take to reach the turret and come down again. When Emer tried to explain about getting lost, Cook stopped her, “Never ye mind, girl, for all I ken ye tripped going up and down the stairs-I should’ve sent ye with a torch to light yer way. Come and help me with these chickens, if ye please.”
Cook knew the signs of being kissed hard by a man with a beard and could see Emer bore every indication of having had that happen to her. She was a kind woman and knew Emer had not been at Maclachlan Keep long enough to set up a flirt. She accurately surmised the young woman had been waylaid by a drunken castle guest and left it at that.
The frenetic pace of roasting and baking kept up until well past ten hours after the castle noon bell had tolled earlier that day. The page boys who ran to and from the kitchen carrying the plates and servers kept the kitchen staff informed about the goings-on upstairs.
When they came to report the younger folk had begun dancing while their elders watched fondly, taking the occasional sip of whisky and nibbling on nuts and dried fruits, the tired kitchen workers knew they could finally relax.
