Highland Hellcat (2010) (13 page)

BOOK: Highland Hellcat (2010)
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Maura chuckled beneath her breath and gave a tug that was harder than Brina had expected from her small frame. The woman didn’t lack strength, and the undergown was soon in her grasp completely, leaving Brina in nothing except her bare skin. Her newly brushed hair floated down onto her back in a soft flutter.

“Now sit down and let us have those boots. They need attention, else they will turn hard, which would be a shame considering they look to be so well made.”

Maura even pointed toward a short stool while two of the women came forward to begin untying her boots.

“Best to learn no’ to be so modest. Ye have naught that any of us do nae have, and there will be no rumors about ye if there are a few of my trusted maids to testify that ye are sound and healthy beneath yer robes.”

Brina felt her mouth go dry. Maura’s words were softly spoken, like a mother did with her child, but there was no mistaking the hard truth in them. Gossip was a sin, but that didn’t stop the church from listening to it when it came to women. She might find herself being questioned if rumors began to circulate that she hid her body. What one person labeled modest, another would call suspicious. Several of the Lindsey maids were sneaking peeks at her while they worked, looking for marks that might be considered unnatural. Even if Connor had declared that she was to be his bride, no one wanted bad luck around, and a woman with a witch mark might bring a failed harvest. Superstition held just as much authority as the church did sometimes.

“The boots are new; my father had them made for me before I left for the abbey.”

“We’ll get them cleaned up.” Maura’s tone was tempered with authority both from her position in the house and her years. Brina sat, and two of the maids immediately attended her.

They loosened her boots and removed them, then dropped them first into pails of water to help remove some of the mud caked onto them.

“Now into the tub with ye before ye catch a chill.”

Brina sank into the water gratefully, her muscles enjoying the warm water. It was far hotter than she ever prepared for herself, because she was normally so tired that she simply wanted the task of cleaning herself finished. Two days on a horse had left her sore, and she arched her lower back with a soft groan.

“I suppose the laird was worried that yer clan would be close on yer heels if he lingered.”

“Of course he was, for he took me from my father on the road.”

There were a few stunned glances, but she didn’t temper her words. The tale was no doubt being repeated by Connor’s retainers in the hall where they broke bread.

“The early snow covered our tracks, though.”

“Aye, the snow is unusually early this year.” Maura spoke without thinking but frowned when she realized the wide eyes of several of her maids. The girls were clearly thinking that the snow was a sign from heaven, just as Brina had told Connor it was. The older woman shook her head and a thin finger at her staff.

“But no’ so early that I cannae recall years in the past when such has happened before. It is no’ unnatural,” the head of house declared in a firm tone.

The women came forward and began bathing her, no longer worried that she had brought misfortune to Birch Stone. Connor’s will was law here. She was his possession just as surely as if she were a fox he’d snared and put in a sack to bring home.

The women didn’t miss any part of her, and Maura washed her hair personally. Warm water was brought to rinse her hair, and her skin tingled from the soap, but it was a pleasant feeling.

“Come on out with ye now and stop holding yer breath. I suppose it’s to be appreciated that ye are so uncomfortable with being touched, for it proves that ye are nothing like yer sister.”

“What do ye mean?”

Brina stood up and stepped over the edge of the copper tub. The wood was smooth beneath her bare feet, and she discovered that the space between the boards allowed for the water running down her legs not to puddle around her feet. It would surely make it less likely that she might slip on wet stone.

“I mean experienced.” Maura spoke plainly and firmly, drawing the attention of her helpers.“Ye sat there biting on yer lip the entire time, mistress. The look in yer eyes is nae something that anyone can fake. Even the most jaded of women fail to mask their experience completely from other women. Ye’ll understand better once ye share yer wedding bed with the laird. An experienced woman knows the look of another experienced woman.” Maura cast a quick look toward the two youngest maids.

They nodded and muttered “aye” immediately, but Brina was too busy listening to the last part of Maura’s statement echo inside her head.

Share a bed with Connor…

The idea was too large to break down into anything she might deal with. She suddenly felt every scrape and bruise on her body. The women tending to her were gentle, but it still felt as though they had burlap gloves covering their hands, for each touch brushed over someplace that the last two days had left painful marks on.

Brina lifted her arms to allow the women to slip a fresh gown over her head. She froze when it settled around her ankles, her eyes going to the soft color of it. In the meager light, it looked like some shade of green that was found only in spring. She fingered it and found it soft and clean feeling. One of the women knelt at her feet and offered her a pair of warm slippers to keep the winter chill from her toes. Two more of the women helped her ease a dressing robe over her shoulders. This garment was made of thick wool, and the inside was lined with fur. She had never worn such a thing, for it was a luxury even if she had brought home many a rabbit and then dried the pelt so that the fur might be used to line the dressing robes of her sisters. She had always made do with a wool cloak and arisaid. Her garments were always simple and undyed. She gently touched the blue fabric of the dressing gown.

“That color suits ye well.”

Brina jerked her face up and discovered the head of house watching her. There was a twinkle in Maura’s eyes. “Ye remind me of a child on Twelfth Night, yer face all glowing with wonder as ye look at yer gifts.”

She had only ever received practical gifts during the winter holidays, because her father didn’t want her to suffer when she was sent to the abbey and expected to give up all worldly possessions.

Brina looked down again to hide her thoughts, for she felt like every feeling she had was on display.

“Come this way, mistress, and we shall have you tucked beneath a thick comforter in no time at all.”

Brina followed Maura toward the back of the bathhouse but turned when she heard the sound of flowing water. One of the women pulled on a rope that lifted the far end of the copper tub into the air. Another trough that was much wider sat beneath the tub, and as the foot of it was lifted, the water spilled over the edge, falling in a glittering wave toward the trough waiting below. There was enough of an angle to see the water rushing downhill toward another hole in the wall, and the sound of water splashing against the side of the tower told her how the water was being discarded.

So clever and it meant that she might bathe every day, not just on special occasions.

Brina froze, realizing that her hair was brushed out behind her and she was truly prepared to be presented as a bride. The only thing lacking was a priest to give the blessing, but many a couple sought the church’s approval after they had consummated their union.

That would benefit Connor and the Lindseys in every way too. If she had no virtue, then wedding Connor would be in her best interest, for even the church would look scornfully upon a soiled nun. She would be required to do years of penance before being allowed to take vows. Among those who had no possessions, she would be the lowest of the humble.

That was assuming Connor would wed her after having her. Considering that the man had taken her in vengeance, there was no way to trust that he would in fact marry her once he had lain with her. It was entirely possible that shaming her was what he sought. It wouldn’t be a unique form of revenge either.

Connor’s promise rose up to needle her. He’d clearly declared that he wanted to wed her, so her thoughts were vindictive, considering that he’d spoken in front of his own retainers.

It seemed that the only thing she held control over was herself, and she decided that fearing the unknown sickened her. Raising her face, she looked at Maura but found that the head of house was already moving across the chamber toward one of the darkened corners.

“Where are ye taking me?”

Maura looked slightly guilty, as though she had been hoping to avoid telling Brina anything until she had arrived and it was too late to argue.

The head of house tilted her head to one side and huffed softly. “Well now, there are two sets of stairs that lead out of this chamber. The ones here that are tucked in the corner are private.” Maura tossed her head toward the doors Connor had brought her through. “Behind those are the two men the laird left to make sure ye do nae do anything foolish, like try to leave the tower when there is snow flying.”

Brina felt her pride rear its head in the face of knowing that there were guards set on her. Only the guilty needed watching. It chafed her to know that Connor considered her untrustworthy.

But you do plan to attempt escape…

Her inner thoughts needed to be smothered. It was her duty to attempt escape. If she failed to try, she would be shaming her father just as Deirdre had done because she failed to try and set herself back onto the correct path. Nothing good could come from wrongdoing.

“Ye look like ye haven’t slept in days, mistress. I promise there is a warm bed above this floor.”

“That sounds very pleasant indeed.” And just the word “bed” made her notice how weary she was. Her bones actually ached with it, but her belly was tied into a knot so tight, it felt almost impossible to lift her foot and set it atop the first stone step. One of the women went ahead with a candle that flickered and cast shadows that danced between the stone walls of the passageway. It was narrow and clearly constructed for nothing except function. It was so small that no candles were left burning in it, because the holders would have scraped anyone using it.

She admitted that she doubted if she had any strength left to protest what might be awaiting her at the top of the stairs. In the narrow confines of the stairwell, each step echoed. Brina heard her own breath and was sure the others could hear her heart accelerating. They reached the second floor and turned to mount another section of stone steps.

Maura didn’t stop climbing until they reached the fourth story of the tower. It grew colder as they went higher, and the wind whistled through the arrow slits that looked like crosses so that the archer might aim in all directions. The open slits were an eerie reminder that the fortress was built to repel attack.

It was also constructed to keep those inside secure.

Or imprisoned, in her case.

“This is a fine chamber.” Maura held a slim door open so that it would not shut on her.

“A bunk in the kitchen would serve for as tired as I am.”

“That would nae do for the future mistress of Birch Stone.”

The chamber they entered was like something out of a little girl’s dream. Brina discovered herself enchanted with it, because it was everything that she had been told to not expect from life. She admitted that being lectured so often had sometimes seen her thinking about just what luxuries were.

This chamber had them for certain. Only a few candles burned, but they were pure beeswax, for the sweet scent of honey floated through the air. She drew in a deep breath and smiled when the scent of lavender also teased her nose. The shutters were closed tight over the windows, and in spite of the wind whistling through the arrow slits, there was not a single rattle from any of the wooden shutters, telling her that someone had tended to them recently.

The furnishings were fit for the grandest noble, or at least they were the finest she had ever seen. Two large chairs sat near the fireplace with their backs carved with the crest of the Lindsey clan. They had plump cushions tied to their seats, and the fabric was rich in hues of green and blue.

“I’ll leave ye to settle in, mistress. No one shall disturb ye, but the laird bid me warn ye that the night is frigid and ye should no’ venture out. His retainers will nae allow ye to.”

“Of course he did.”

The head of house clicked her tongue in disapproval of her tone. “He’s a good laird, who thinks of his clan before himself. Consider that before ye judge him too harshly.”

Maura lowered herself before going back to the narrow door and slipping away down the stairs. Brina sighed and realized that she was at last alone. She glanced around the chamber, walking into the center of it and turning all the way around before blowing out another breath.

But her relief was not complete, because she looked at the outer chamber doors and frowned as Maura’s words rose as clear as a bell in her thoughts.

She realized that she had not been thankful enough for her future as a nun, because it had afforded her much freedom and privacy that she only now noticed the blessing of.

A large bed was set off to the other end of the room. It was set with curtains that were drawn, except for one side where the thick bedding was drawn down. It beckoned to her, and she didn’t bother to ignore the summons. She was too tired to do anything but pinch out the candles on her way toward the bed. Once dark, the chamber seemed stranger, but the bedding was thick and scented with lavender.

She slid between the sheets, muttering with delight as the comforter settled around her and began to warm her toes.

Sleep rose up to embrace her, but it was not a dark oblivion. Instead Connor’s blue eyes were there, watching her with that piercing gaze she noticed so much. The man mesmerized her, and that was no mistake. She was drawn to him, feeling some need to look into his eyes while she ventured closer to him. Deep in sleep, she recalled his kiss, her lips tingling with sensation that bled down her body, warming every inch of her just as his touch had done.

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