Mary breathed a sigh of relief as the Grant guards left the hall. She had feared a few would stay and take part in the drinking, leading inevitably to trouble.
Since she had no experience to offer, she had left putting the bride to bed to the Grant women. But seeing them go brought a tear to her eye. If her time ever came, who would see her to bed? Her mother died many yearsago. Her sisters, married and living at Brodie, might be with her, but she might be alone.
Cameron leaned toward her, concern written in the crease between his brows. “What’s amiss?”
She shook her head. “Naught, really.” She wiped away the tear and faced him. She’d be stuck here as host even after da followed his new wife to bed. “Should ye go upstairs? I can get away for a few minutes to help ye get settled for the night.” She shouldn’t really leave, even for a short time, but she didn’t want him to run into trouble. There were too many drunk lads in the keep. She feared Cameron could not yet to defend himself in a fight. With only the wee blade in her skirt pocket, she could do little to defend him, but her presence should dissuade any Rose from harassing him. Even without such a confrontation, she worried Cameron would get overtired.
He shook his head, refusing. “I’ll stay with ye.” He nodded at some of the louder lads halfway down the table. “That lot could cause trouble, and yer da is no’ of a mind to do anything about it.”
She appreciated his gesture. He was right—her father was too drunk and too busy with his cronies to care what happened in the hall. Likely Da assumed she didn’t need protection since, for the most part, she ran the keep. Still, Cameron’s presence kept the other men at bay. Even when not at his best, he intimidated by being big, well-muscled and looking capable of mayhem.
His presence failed, however, to keep the Rose lasses at bay. Several came by to meet him. They had no lack of questions about his convalescence, his role at Sutherland, and his relationship with Mary.
One particularly bold lass asked the question Maryhad been dreading. “Ye have spent so much time together, surely there might soon be another wedding at Rose…?”
“Alia!” Mary objected. “Ye are being rude.”
“I only ask what many are thinking,” the lass replied with a smirk for Mary and a smile for Cameron that could not be mistaken for anything other than an invitation. “If no’, perhaps ye would like to spend time with me. I’m certain I could make ye feel better.”
“Thank ye, nay,” Cameron told her. “Mary and the healer are treating me well enough."
“And that isquiteenough,” Mary said, standing and putting some teeth in her tone. “I’ll thank ye to go on about yer business.”
Alia huffed and strode away.
Cameron grinned at her back. “The lass kens what she wants. Does she always go after it so openly?”
A moment later, Mary saw her tittering behind her hand with Annag, their gazes fastened on Cameron. What were the two of them up to? Mary frowned. “I apologize for her behavior. Likely she’s had too much to drink.”
Had her invitation piqued Cameron’s interest enough for him to take her up on it?
“Well, she’s safe from me, Mary, my love.” He turned to her. “And so is Annag, and any other Rose lass. I like the one I’m with.”
So he had noticed the two staring at him. Mary let out a breath, suddenly feeling lighter than she had all evening. She’d never taken his pet name for her seriously, but she appreciated that Cameron chose to stay with her, and to use it while other hungry gazes devoured him. Though he could act the frivolous youngest son, teasing her and flirting with her, tonight the term frivolous didn’tseem to fit him. His continued presence by her side gave her hope.
A fortnight after the wedding,Mary rose early as was her habit. She went down to the kitchen to break her fast, taking some sorely-needed time to herself. Cook and her staff knew to leave Mary be unless she asked them for something. Today, she sat in a corner, lost in her own thoughts. She still worried for her father. Though marriage should have made him mellow, he remained testy and quick to anger, and his headaches continued. The healer remained puzzled, with no solution to offer. And then there was Seona—but she refused to dwell on that lass while she ate.
The bright spot in her day was the time she spent with Cameron. To build his strength, he sparred with the other Rose warriors every morning. She enjoyed the glimpses she got as she moved around the keep doing her chores. Every afternoon, she walked with him, determined to do her part to help him regain his stamina. Her clan was accustomed to seeing them together, and people often stopped to greet him and exchange a few words. Cameron seemed to enjoy meeting everyone—his mood improved with each person who spoke to him, which pleased her.
Mary finished her simple repast with a smile on her lips that faded as headed upstairs. She needed Seona to accompany her if the lass was ever going to learn her duties—no matter what time of day they occurred. Yet she had become reluctant to wake her step-mother too early. The lass was always irritable in the mornings and refusedfood until midday. Breaking her fast before she fetched Seona was the best compromise she could manage.
Until the wedding party arrived at Rose, Mary had conceived of a faint hope Seona, despite the awkwardness of their ages and respective positions, would become a friend. Mary missed her sisters and longed for close female company—company Seona seemed loathe to provide, even when they were together. Mary expected developing anything akin to friendship would be difficult, if not impossible.
She had quickly become convinced her new stepmother was not only painfully shy, she was not terribly bright, and when cornered, reacted with her mother’s arrogance. Mary did her best to school her, but was not optimistic the lass would ever comprehend the variety of things that needed to be done to manage a keep this size. Nor did she seem to care about how to address the servants and Rose warriors to ensure her orders were carried out without angering them.
Though Mary had been glad when Lady Grant took most of her retinue and left the day after the wedding, in hindsight, if she’d been willing to help with her daughter, Mary would have welcomed her assistance. On the other hand, unless she’d left the lass in the care of some hapless nursemaid, she’d had the care and training of Seona from birth, and had ill-prepared her for life as a laird’s wife. Mary shook her head. There was no getting around it. She needed to have a stern talk with her new stepmother. One that inspired the lass to take on her duties, and that did not anger her father.
As Mary approached Seona’s chamber, she saw the remaining Grant guard who worried her the most. Afterthe wedding day, once she had gotten a good look at him, she realized he was the man who’d stormed out of the Grant great hall when Lady Grant and her father announced his betrothal to Seona. Mary nodded to him as she approached, not comfortable addressing him. She feared what might come out of her mouth. Had Seona chosen him for her guard, or had her mother? Why on earth had Lady Grant left him behind with the lamb-headed lass? Worse, the guards had taken up station outside the chamber Seona had chosen for her own private use, rotating duty during the day—and night. Seona’s favorite usually had the night shift. Questions about whether he spent his nights outside her door or inside her chamber filled Mary’s mind. About how long he and Seona had been lovers. All things she had no right—and no solid reason—to ask him. Standing guard outside Seona’s door was innocent enough on the face of it. But his proximity to the lass worried Mary after the way he’d reacted to the betrothal announcement.
She decided to wait to rouse Seona until another guard stood at her door. This one inclined his dark head as Mary passed, but did not speak. As she continued down the hall, she couldn’t help wondering how recently he had been inside that chamber with Seona. Mary gave herself a shake, little more than a shudder, trying to drive out the notion. She prayed they had not done what she feared. Seona’s wedding vows were barely uttered. It was much too soon for her to take a lover, or to resume a dalliance with one. Or at least Mary hoped so, for her father’s sake. He counted on the woman giving him a son.
Mary paused at the corner and glanced back. The man had not moved from his position by the door. His gazewas on the wall opposite, but shifted to Mary for a fraction of a second, long enough to give her chills and get her moving again, out of his line of sight.
It mattered to her that any son Seona bore was her father’s and not this guardsman’s. Yet there was no sense borrowing trouble. For the moment, the man seemed content to watch over her. Surely, at some point, Seona would become convinced she would not be harmed at Rose. Or her husband would finally insist she send her mother’s men home to Grant. With that thought, Mary put all Grants out of her mind and went on about her business.
Later in the day, she was doing needlework with some of the Rose lasses and a sullen Seona in the ladies’ solar when word came that a courier arrived from Sutherland. He had four men in escort, and asked for Cameron Sutherland. Mary’s heart sank. There could be only one purpose for the visit. Her time with Cameron might end today. She set aside her stitching and went down to the great hall where the men waited.
Cameron was already speaking to the courier while the other four stood aside, near the hearth, their gazes roving around the room as they warmed themselves from their travel. Cameron’s frown told Mary how the conversation had gone. He gestured for the courier to join his fellows by the fire, then sought Mary out and confirmed her fears.
