Dangerous Pride (22 page)

Catriona reflected on how lucky she was to have been befriended by the couple as she made her way to the kitchen.  She settled on a small three-legged stool in the corner as she happily savored the warm breakfast tea Mairi had given her.

Tolquhon’s kitchen was impressive.  A tall stone fireplace dominated the room, featuring an opening that approached the height of a good-sized lad.  It was wide and tall enough to afford Mairi room to prepare meals for the large groups that sometimes visited the keep. As often as not, fresh game hung from the rafters in the kitchen, waiting until it was needed to feed the hungry hoards that descended on the great hall three times each day.  Milk, butter and other items that needed to be kept cool were stored in the nearby buttery.  Several cellars were located near the kitchen to store oats, grains, vegetables and other foods that would be used throughout the year.

Absently, Catriona fiddled with her teacup, running her finger along the rim while Mairi kneaded the dough that would form the bread for the evening’s meal.  “Did Quinton happen to mention my husband’s plans for the day?” Catriona asked shyly, hoping her interest in his activities wasn’t too obvious. Lachlan filled her thoughts more than she cared to admit – certainly, more than was respectable.

Mairi’s pale eyebrows tilted upward, and dimples began to form on her plump, red cheeks.  Idly, she reached up to scratch her chin, leaving a trail of white flour to attest to the itch.  “I was beginnin’ tae wonder if ye were e’er gonna get tae the point,” she replied, her amusement clear in her tone of voice.

Catriona was at once embarrassed and chagrined.  “You ken the laird is a busy man.  He can hardly keep me informed of his every move.”

Mairi laughed out loud, her dark brown eyes twinkling with amusement.  “There’s somewhat about ye today that puts me in mind of a hen dancin’ on a hot griddle,” she teased as she used the edges of her apron to dab at the tears in her eyes.  Catriona’s embarrassment grew steadily as Mairi struggled to get her laughter under control. “Do no’ fash yerself, my lady – I was just havin’ some fun with ye.  Yer husband will be havin’ court on the morrow to settle disputes between the kinsmen.  My Quinton and Rory have been with him in his study for most of the day, and like as no’ that’s where they’ll stay until the wee hours.”  Mairi turned her attention back to her baking, pounding the thick dough into the tabletop.

Thoughtfully, she took in the lass’s hopeful expression.  The Lady of Tolquhon had grown increasingly besotted with her husband in the weeks since they’d been wed.  Mairi knew well enough that all was not right between the couple, thanks to Sorcha and her fondness for gossip.  Most of the keep must have learned by now that the newlyweds did not share a bed, but Mairi knew better than to put much stock in the servants’ idle musings.  In time she was convinced their obvious attraction to each other would overcome whatever obstacles stood in their way.

“I doubt he’ll be in a verra pleasant mood today, lass.  Ye’d be well warned tae keep yer distance,” she counseled.  “The laird does no’ enjoy settlin’ these disputes.  Keeps him out of the yard, and lately if he is no’ trainin’ with his men, he’s in a miserable temper.”  The older woman smiled encouraging at Catriona, who seemed to grow even more uncomfortable with every word.  “Listen tae me goin’ on, like an old fool. I do no’ need tae be tellin’ ye this. Yer his wife, after all, and ye surely ken him better than the rest of us.”

Catriona could not slow the flush that spread across her pale cheeks, but neither did she want to acknowledge her embarrassment.  “Well, if the laird is to spend the day in his study, he might well appreciate a wee respite,” she said finally, her expression determined.

“What do ye have in mind?” Mairi asked, her interest piqued.

Catriona drew a deep breath, nervous now that she was about to share her plans.  “I have been thinking a lot about having some lessons for the children here at Tolquhon. Nothing fancy, mind you,” she added quickly, when she saw the look of surprise on Mairi’s face, “just a small school for the wee ones.  I have some experience teaching children, and I thought mayhap it would be useful for them to learn their letters, and to read a bit.”

Before Mairi had a chance to respond, the servant’s entrance to the kitchen was flung open with a loud bang.  A small lad of four or five years dashed in as if the devil himself were in pursuit.  Catriona had seen the child around the keep many times, but had never been properly introduced.

“That’s quite enough, laddie,” Mairi reprimanded, her words bringing the boy to a sudden halt.  “I do no’ mind if ye visit me in the kitchen from time-tae-time, but I will no’ have ye tearin’ the place apart.”

The boy looked suitably sheepish, his eyes downcast while he muttered what Catriona assumed was an apology.  “What brings ye here in such a hurry?  Ye threw back that door like old cloutie was on yer heels.”

Looking from Catriona to Mairi and back again, the young boy seemed to be assessing their reactions before he continued.  “I’m sorry Gran – truly I am – but we were playing kick the pail in the yard when Jamie came after me and I did no’ want tae stick around fer a beatin’ so I thought tae hide in here with ye for a spell…”

Mairi held up her hand, ordering him to hold his tongue.

Now it was Catriona’s interest that was piqued.  “Mairi, if I heard the lad correctly, he called you granny,” she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.  “I would no’ have thought you old enough to be a grandmother.  Have you been keeping this handsome lad a secret from me?”

Catriona thought she saw a trace of a grimace on the older woman’s face, but it was gone so quickly she decided she must have imagined it.  Grabbing a towel from the table, Mairi wiped the flour from her hands, and brought the lad to stand in front of her.  “Lady Forbes, I would like tae present my grandson, Niall.  Niall, this is Lady Forbes, the wife of our laird.  Ye greet her proper now!” she added in a loud whisper, gently pushing the lad forward.

Niall’s huge grey eyes started at Catriona for a moment, and then, as if he remembered his place, he gave her a bow.  “Pleased tae meet ye, my lady,” he mumbled under his breath, afraid again to meet her gaze.

He was a very handsome lad, Catriona decided, with his bright eyes and dark, curly hair.  Though he was grimy from play, he was carefully dressed, and looked well loved and cared for.

“I am verra pleased to meet you, Niall,” she said as she crouched before the lad, taking his tiny hand in her own.  “I have seen you in the keep before, but we’ve ne’er been properly introduced.”  She threw a smile to Mairi, prompting a grin in return.  Through it all, Niall continued to inspect his shoes.  “Who are yer parents, then, lad?  I ken yer granny, but I do no’ ken who else you belong to.”

The lad’s timid gaze went to his grandmother, and she reached out to him, drawing him close to her.  “Niall’s mither is my daughter Fiona.  She is one of the lasses who helps upstairs.”  Catriona nodded, and Mairi cleared her throat before she continued.  “Niall does no’ have a da here at Tolquhon.  Fiona, Quinton and I raise him on our own.”

Catriona took in the cook’s discomfort and quickly changed the subject.  “Well, I am delighted to meet you, Niall, and I hope I will see you again soon.  Mairi, when you have a minute, would you have one of the lasses prepare a light lunch for me?  I plan to go riding in the afternoon, and I would rather take something with me than wait to eat here.”  Mairi quickly agreed, seemingly grateful to have put the awkward introductions behind them.

After thanking the older woman, and bidding the boy farewell, Catriona left the kitchen and made her way to the stables.  After giving the lads instructions to ready her horse, she went up to her bedchamber.  Sorcha was there, straightening the room, and Catriona quickly enlisted her help in changing her clothes, and fixing her hair.  Instead of confining her mahogany curls in the caul most married women favored, she instead asked Sorcha to brush her hair and leave it loose.

If the serving lass thought it odd for her mistress to go to such lengths for a simple afternoon ride, she politely kept the thought to herself.  “Do ye plan tae ride down tae the burn today, my lady?” she asked politely as she handed Catriona her arisaid.  “Yer husband will be right fashed if you do no’ take one of the lads with ye.”

Catriona inspected her reflection in the mirror while she considered the maid’s words.  It was a warm day, and she’d changed into a light blouse and a skirt that was full enough to allow her to ride astride.  The overall effect was pleasant enough, but not so fussy as to attract unwanted attention.  “Actually, today I plan to take my husband with me.”  The maid’s surprised expression was enough to make Catriona laugh out loud.  “I have a few things I need to discuss with him, and I think he might be in a better mood after a ride and a picnic lunch.”

After thanking Sorcha for her help, Catriona slipped into the kitchen quietly, taking the basket lunch from the lass who had prepared it.  As she’d expected, they’d put together a small feast, more than enough for herself and her husband, despite his enormous appetite.  Calling her thanks, she left the kitchen and walked down the hall to the small chamber Lachlan used as his study.  She could feel her pulse quickening as she neared the room, her initial enthusiasm and excitement slowly being eroded by a growing sense of trepidation.

It was one thing to
consider
spending time with her husband, and asking him to support her plans.  It was quite another to actually
be
with him.  When he was near, she felt overwhelmed and tongue-tied, more like the young lass who had been smitten with him than the woman who had married him.  He was simply too handsome, too masculine and too overpowering.

Setting the basket to the side, she pressed her ear to the door, listening for voices coming from the study.  Suddenly the door shifted beneath her weight, and she found herself propelled forward, struggling to catch her balance.  Strong, warm arms enfolded her, and she felt herself being pulled upright against Lachlan’s broad chest.  Still reeling from the shock of being in his arms, she failed to find her voice.

Silently, she cursed her trembling body as he studied her intently, his lips spreading in a broad grin as he struggled unsuccessfully to restrain his amusement.  “It is nice of you to drop in on me, lass,” he said, smiling down into her flushed face.  “If I did no’ ken better, I would think you were spying on me.  Like you used to when you were a bairn.  Remember?”

Catriona’s breath caught in her throat, and she started to pull back from his embrace, which was growing frighteningly comfortable.  After a long pause, he chuckled softly and released her, setting her on her feet before he stepped back into his study.  Gathering her dignity as best she could, Catriona stared back into his dark, amused eyes, noting absentmindedly how his face brightened when he smiled.  “I was hardly spying on you,” she replied indignantly, standing back as she pointed to the picnic basket that sat waiting in the hallway. “I had thought you might like to go for a ride this afternoon, mayhaps have lunch near the burn.”  Gathering her courage as she spoke, she turned to acknowledge Quinton, who sat in the chair behind Lachlan’s desk.  “Mairi mentioned you would be preparing to hear grievances much of the day, and I thought you might like to have a brief respite.”

“So that’s what yer to be – a brief respite, Catriona?” Lachlan replied with a laugh, enjoying his wife’s discomfort more than was seemly.  He was impressed by how beautiful and innocent she looked as she stood before him, nervous, yet determined.  Clearly, there was more to this than a simple picnic lunch, but he would play along with her game.  He was intrigued to see where it lead them – almost as intrigued as he was by the light summer blouse she wore.  He wondered if she realized the material was nearly transparent – that he could clearly see the details of her undergarments through the blouse.  Frowning, he made a mental note to speak to her maid about removing this particular garment from her wardrobe.

Catriona could feel the weight of Lachlan’s eyes as he studied her closely.  The frown that briefly flickered across his handsome face almost undid her.  She was about to rescind her invitation when he finally raised his eyes to meet hers. She was relieved to see the look of frustration had been replaced by a glint of amusement.  “What a lovely offer, Catriona.  I canna see how I could turn it down.  It would be verra rude, wouldn’t it, Quinton?” he asked, turning to face his amused clerk.  The older man merely smiled his agreement, and returned to the bookwork that lay scattered on the desk before him.  “We’ll be back before the end of the day, and you can brief me on the rest of the cases then.”

“Aye, my lord,” the clerk replied, his attention now firmly focused on his work.

“I do no’ think he’ll even miss me,” Lachlan whispered as he took her in hand, closing the door to the study behind them.  He carried the basket easily with one hand, humming a tune under his breath as they made their way to the stables.

Catriona quickly decided he was enjoying her discomfort altogether too much.  The man was too arrogant and too self-absorbed to make any effort to put her at ease, she decided sullenly, suddenly finding the day over-warm. If she hadn’t been so determined to help the children of the keep, she would have happily cut her losses and fled to the safety of her chamber.

“I…uh…I did no’…that is, I was no’ sure you would be joining me, so I did no’ have the lads saddle yer horse – just mine,” she sputtered, cursing her awkwardness.

Lachlan smiled at her obvious discomfort.  Though he knew it was selfish of him, he was enjoying her uneasiness a great deal.  Clearly, the lass was not as disinterested in him as she pretended to be, or his presence would not have unnerved her so.  “Do no’ fret, lass.  It’s remedied easily enough.”  A lad came running from the stable as soon as he heard the laird approach, and Lachlan handed him the basket.  “Please see this is tied to the lady’s horse. I’ll see to Laeg myself.”

Catriona found herself fiddling idly with the fringe of her arisaid while the lad secured the lunch basket.  Lachlan had put the bridle on Laeg, and was leading the horse into the yard to saddle him.  “It’s a warm day today, lass.  Perfect for a ride, I think,” he added as he pulled off the jacket he had been wearing in the droughty castle.