He leveled a stare at her and said, “Ah, my little wife, ye will find my memory is not that fleeting.” He motioned for her to turn around.
Sighing, she turned her back to him and undid the laces on the side of her gown, pulling her arms out and allowing it to bunch at her waist. Then she reached behind her neck and untied the ribbons at the back of her kirtle. Again she pulled her arms out of the garment but held it to her chest, blushing profusely.
Niall opened the back of her kirtle a little wider, enjoying a glimpse of her creamy white shoulders. He untied the linen strips holding the bandage in place, lifted it away, and cursed. Dark bruises and open lash marks crisscrossed her slender back. As he suspected, older scars marred her pale skin as well, evidence Ruthven had beaten her many times before. The new wounds looked angry but clean, hopefully a fever would not set in. Taking up the jar of balm, he applied it to her lacerations, causing her to wince. Pausing, he asked, “Does this sting?”
“Just a little when it first goes on, but it really does make them heal better.”
It tore at his heart to know she had firsthand knowledge of this. He finished applying the balm as gently as he could, placed the clean towel on her back, and retied the linen strips. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She slipped her arms back into her garments and made to step away.
He put his hand on her shoulder, holding her where she stood. He refastened her laces before turning her to him. He had a powerful urge to taste her sweet lips again and, lifting her chin, kissed her gently. Surprised, but pleased by her response, he kissed her more deeply as she leaned into him.
With a pang of regret, he forced himself to break the kiss, knowing if he didn’t, they would never leave. Pulling away slightly, but leaving his hand on her chin, he said firmly, but gently, “Don’t ever hide anything from me again. Promise me.” She didn’t answer for a moment. “Promise me,” he said again, more gruffly this time.
“I won’t hide anything from you,” she said. “I promise.”
It only took a few more minutes to be ready to leave. Niall insisted she eat something before they left while his men readied the horses. When Niall had his horse saddled, he motioned for Katherine to come to him, lifted her into the saddle, and mounted behind her. Niall stopped her before she turned forward, pulling her onto his lap. “If ye ride like this and put your left arm around me, twill be easier on your back and ye won’t be jarred as much.”
Katherine did as he suggested. Her shoulder fit snuggly under his right arm while her cheek rested on his chest with her head under his chin.
“Better?” he asked.
“Aye,” she agreed.
“Ye will tell me if ye need to rest?”
“Niall, I am stronger than you think.”
“That’s not an answer. Can I trust ye to tell me if ye need to rest?”
“Aye. I will tell you if I need to rest.”
“See that ye do.”
They set out at swift pace, though still much slower than they had ridden the day before. In the middle of the day, they crossed a river before stopping to water the horses and give them a rest. They finished the remainder of the food Moyna had sent. Katherine ate sitting under a tree slightly apart from the group of men. Once she finished she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on them. Niall came to sit beside her. “Are ye all right? I wanted to head out again in a few minutes, but if ye need to rest longer...”
“Nay, I’m fine,” she said. He arched an eyebrow at her in doubt. “Really. I told you, I’m stronger than you think.” she assured him.
He nodded, but he didn’t stand up to leave. He dreaded what he had to tell her. He had no patience for tears and pleading.
“Katherine, there is something else. I told ye yesterday we would be passing near the holding of one of my allies, Laird Carr.” She nodded grimly. “It will be somewhat out of our way for all of us to ride to his keep and we are already going slower than I had planned. I have asked Keith to take Stormy to Laird Carr, and join back with us this evening. He is ready to leave.” Niall braced himself for the tantrum he anticipated, but it didn’t come.
Katherine nodded. Standing up, she walked over to Stormy, put her arms around her pet’s neck, and leaned her head against it. She didn’t cry or plead, but after a few moments, she simply whispered her goodbye. Untethering Stormy, she walked the mare to where Keith waited, giving him the reins. He appeared at a loss for what to say. He just clicked to his horse and rode away.
Tomas came to her, his brow knitted. “Where is he taking your Stormy?”
Niall remembered Tomas hadn’t been at Cotharach as they left yesterday so he didn’t understand what was happening now. He watched as she knelt down beside Tomas, put an arm around him, and said, “Stormy has to go and live somewhere else now.”
“But why?” he asked, his lip trembling.
“Tomas, have you noticed the land around us is hillier and rougher than it was at Cotharach?” He nodded. “As we get closer to Duncurra, it will get even more rugged. It would be very hard for Stormy because she isn’t used to it.”
“Why isn’t it hard for the other horses?” he asked, still looking as if he might cry.
“Well, look at them,” Katherine said, “they are all a lot bigger and stronger than Stormy is. Besides, this is their home. They are used to it.”
“But ye love Stormy,” he said. Katherine bit her lower lip, appearing to blink back her own tears.
“Aye, I do,” she said finally. “I love her so much, I don’t want her to get hurt. That is why I didn’t leave her at Cotharach, and why I am giving her to someone else now who will love her.”
He put his arms around her whispering “It that why ye were crying yesterday?”
“Partly,” she whispered back.
“It’s going to be all right,” he said, this time not whispering, “cuz ye know why?”
“Why?”
“Cuz Fingal says Laird MacIan takes care of his own, and you’re ‘his own.’” Leaning in and whispering again, he said with a little smile, “So am I.”
Although she hugged him saying, “I’m sure it will be all right,” Niall thought the expression on her face suggested she might not be all that confident. She looked around, seeming to realize for the first time that both Niall and Fingal had heard the exchange. Blushing, she let go of Tomas, stood up, and without making eye contact with anyone, brushed the dirt off her gown. When she finally looked up again, her mask of self-control was once more in place. She asked Niall, “Shall we go now?”
He nodded. No begging, no tears, no pouting, once again he was impressed with her. Katherine only showed concern for the well-being of her horse and the feelings of a wee peasant lad. Puzzled, Niall lifted her onto his horse, mounted behind her, again positioning her sideways on his lap. She put her arm around him and they rode this way in silence for the rest of the afternoon.
~ * ~
Although their pace was easier and Niall took care to protect her back from further injury, Katherine became more uncomfortable as the day progressed. She didn’t want to tell him she needed to rest. She knew she was already slowing their progress, but she didn’t think she could take much more. She was pulling together the courage to tell him, when he finally announced they would halt for the evening. She sighed with relief. Her backed ached incredibly and she didn’t think she had ever felt so tired. She didn’t argue when Niall told her to rest, but sank to the plaid he spread on the ground, watching as he and his men made camp. Tomas energetically helped where he could.
By the time the men had settled the horses for the night, Keith had rejoined them bearing gifts. “My lady,” Keith said, bowing to Lady Katherine, “Laird Carr sends his sincere thanks for the fine mare. He also said although it is a very small offering, he wanted ye to have something in return.” Keith handed her a soft bundle. Inside she found a silver brooch and a length of soft cream-colored wool woven with stripes of green and blue.
“This is beautiful,” she said, genuinely pleased as she ran her hands over the soft fabric.
“That is called an
airisaidh
,” Niall explained. “It is like the plaid men wear but it is usually made of a lighter wool. It is held on with a brooch and worn over a garment like your kirtle that we call a
léine
.”
“It is very thoughtful of Laird Carr,” said Katherine.
“Laird Carr has four daughters, I suspect they had a hand in this,” Niall said.
“Aye, they did,” said Keith, laughing. “His oldest daughter, Anna, insisted on it. Laird Carr gave Stormy to her. She was overjoyed.” Katherine knew it had been the right thing to do, but the confirmation that her beloved mare would not only be well treated, but loved, lightened her mood a great deal.
“Laird, he also sent a small gift to ye with his congratulations on your wedding,” Keith added.
Niall arched an eyebrow at that, saying, “I’ll bet he did. For the last few years, every time I have seen him, Laird Carr has needled me about marriage. I have always assured him I had no intentions of getting married. I am confident he found this new situation very amusing.”
Katherine wondered why Niall was so set against marriage but didn’t ask.
Keith produced two small casks of mead, a jug of excellent whisky, meat pies, cheese, brown bread, and small sugared buns.
After the meal, Tomas curled up beside her with his head in her lap and went to sleep, sugar from the buns still circling his mouth. Niall’s men talked and joked throughout dinner, but Niall remained as quiet as he had been all day. After hearing his comments about marriage, Katherine thought to herself she really knew nothing about this man, or any of them, really. She had managed to figure out their names over the course of the day, but other than that the only bits of information she had had came from Tomas the previous evening. She smiled when she remembered how he thought Duncurra was built in a loch.
“What amuses ye?” Niall asked.
She laughed a little saying, “I was thinking about how little I know of you all. I know these men are your ‘eeleet’ guard,” she said, emphasizing both syllables of the word as Tomas had the previous evening, “and Tomas thought Duncurra was built in the middle of a loch.”
Niall, too, chuckled at that memory, “To be fair, I know very little about ye, either.”
“I’m sure you know most of it.”
“Frankly, everything I thought I knew about you has been wrong.”
Confused, she said, “I don’t understand.”
“Never mind, it isn’t important. Tell me, how long has Ambrose Ruthven acted as your guardian?”
“Five years. He and my father were hunting. Apparently something spooked my father’s horse, he was thrown and killed instantly.”
“Your mother died before him?”
“Aye, she died when I was ten. The plague swept through Scotland that year.” She paused for a moment. “So many people died then, entire families in some cases. At least my father and I had each other.” She sighed, stroking Tomas’ head. “Things changed so much after he died.” She took a deep breath, looking away for a moment before saying, “So, I became an orphan, an heiress, and ward to a cruel uncle at fourteen. There isn’t much more to the story.”
Niall expression grew dark at the mention of her uncle’s cruelty.
Fingal broke the silence by saying, “Gentleman, our lady would like to learn a little bit about us, shall I tell her?”
“Just don’t damn us with faint praise,” said Keith.
“It is much more likely he will simply damn us,” Alan added.
Fingal glared mockingly at Alan then glanced around. “Hmm, where shall I start?” he asked, looking at the other men. “With the three old men at the top, I think. Diarmad is Niall’s second in command. As ye know, he left today with six other men. There are two captains under Diarmad, Cairbre, who remained behind in charge of Duncurra, and Alan here. “As we have established, Alan is old,” Fingal teased. Alan did appear to be older than the others, but while lines creased his weathered face, his dark brown hair didn’t have any gray in it.
Alan frowned, “Mind who ye are calling ‘old,’ Fingal, any of the three of us can still best ye.” The men laughed and Fingal went on, undaunted.
“Alan is married to the lovely Effie, who is one of the clan’s midwives. She is a very good midwife, probably because she has had a lot of practice.”
Again, the men laughed, and for the first time all day, Niall joined in, explaining, “Alan and Effie have been blessed with eight children. I would ask him to tell ye about them, but he is a very proud father. His children are his favorite topic of conversation. If I give him an opening, he might still be talking about them as the sun rises.”
More laughter erupted, but Alan replied, “I will remind ye of this someday, Laird, when ye are bending my ear about your own brood.” Katherine blushed, realizing the “brood” to which Alan referred would be hers as well.
Fingal continued, “Then we have Muir.” Shorter than Niall but with a leaner build, Muir had sandy brown hair. “Muir, too, is married, but no one understands how that happened.” It was Muir’s turn to glare as Fingal went on. “His wife, Shona, is one of our finest weavers. They have two sons, one of whom is training with one of our allies, Fearghas Chisholm. The other is now training with Niall’s men.”
“How many men do you have?” Katherine asked.
“There are twenty in my elite guard, who not only guard my back, but are leaders and trainers of my other men. There are roughly one hundred more warriors who see to the clan’s protection full time,” Niall answered. “In addition to Cairbre, six other guardsmen remained at Duncurra.
Ruthven had more than twice that many soldiers, but if Niall’s elite guard was any indicator, she doubted the Ruthven men were half as well trained.
“Next is Turcuil,” said Fingal. Huge didn’t begin to describe Turcuil. Katherine suspected people believed in giants because of men like Turcuil. At least a head taller than and half again as wide as Niall, he had to be the biggest man she had ever seen. His size, coupled with his black bushy hair and beard, gave him a fearsome appearance.