Page 40 of The Refuge

Chapter 8

Steinar heard Catrìona’s sudden intake of breath and turned to see her rigid stance and her eyes staring straight ahead, as if preparing for an onslaught. The cause of her anxious state quickly became apparent as he followed her gaze.

The nobleman from Leinster, Domnall mac Murchada—the one to whom she was supposedly “all but betrothed”—was coming toward them, Blackwell’s daughter on his arm.

“Greetings, Catrìona, and to you, Steinar,” the Irishman said as he approached. “I understand you have met Isla of Blackwell, Catrìona.”

She nodded. “We met earlier today.”

He turned his face to Isla. “Well, since you have met Catrìona, allow me to introduce Steinar, the king’s scribe.”

“My lady,” Steinar said, bowing over Isla’s offered hand.

Isla gave him a dismissive glance. “How unusual to have a scribe who is not a man of the church.”

“Aye,” was Steinar’s only response. He did not like the superior tone in the woman’s voice and he sensed Catrìona was hurt by Domnall’s attention to her.

Steinar wondered what the man was about. If Domnall intended to marry Catrìona, why had he been dancing with the queen’s new lady? Was the man mad? Surely his actions were beyond mere courtesy to a new arrival.

Steinar forgot the wine they had been about to have, wanting to take Catrìona away from the uncomfortable scene. “If you will excuse us,” he said to the pair, “we were just about to go outside.”

Domnall did not object. Instead, he bowed to Catrìona as they took their leave.

Steinar guided her through the door and into the night. The sky was a pale heather as it often was at gloaming in the summer.

Behind them, the door creaked open and Angus, her protector, stepped out and leaned against the stone wall of the tower, crossing his arms over his chest in an unsubtle warning.

They walked a short distance away. “None of the other ladies brings a guard to Malcolm’s court,” he remarked. “And I think yours mistrusts me.”

“Do not mind Angus. He is just doing what my father would have wanted, ever faithful to his oath. He has stood by me since… since my father’s death.”

Seeing again the pain in her eyes, he did not want to speak of unpleasant things nor embarrass her about Domnall’s slight, but he would give her the opportunity to confide in him if she chose. “Did you want to tell me of it?”

“Not tonight,” she said somberly, her eyes focused on the ground.

Respecting her wishes, he would speak of something else. “The queen has told me of her plans for the ferry and the inn for the pilgrims.” And then with a smile, “Your new undertaking.”

“Did she?” Catrìona asked, her somber mood appearing to lift.

“’Twill be the queen’s boldest venture yet.”

“But a worthy one, I think.” In her eyes, he saw a fervor he’d not seen before.

“The pilgrims traveling to St. Andrew’s shrine will be forever in Malcolm’s debt.”

“I rather think the pilgrims will know ’tis the queen’s ferry they ride without charge,” she said, “but I do hope the king will support Margaret in this.”

“She can be most persuasive where he is concerned. And you are right,” he admitted. “The people will know such charity, if granted, comes from the queen.”

“She told me you and I are to help her. Did she say what we are to do? I’ve not spoken with her about the details, only her vision for the completed work.”

“She intends to speak with the king,” Steinar said, laying out what the queen had told him. “Once he approves, which I expect he will, Margaret will soon have the men and materials to begin the task.”

“That will please Margaret.”

“You and I are to be her partners in this new work,” he said with a grin.

She shot him a side-glance. “That should be entertaining,”