Never Seduce a Scot: The Montgomerys and Armstrongs (27 page)

As she rose, her stomach growled and then clenched into a knot that had her wavering unsteadily. She hadn’t supped the evening before and now she was late to break her fast. If she hurried, she might still be in time.

“Where the hell is my wife?” Graeme demanded, his voice booming over the hall.

One of his soldiers who was tending the fires looked uneasily in Graeme’s direction and Graeme latched onto that expression and strode forward.

“Have you seen your mistress this morning?”

Anton swallowed nervously. “Aye, Laird. She was …” He winced and then continued on in a rush. “She was
bringing in logs for the fires in the hall. I stopped her, of course, and told her it was my duty to attend the fires. She seemed relieved, but then she hurried out and I haven’t seen her since.”

“She was doing
what
?” Graeme roared.

Anton flinched. “I could not believe it either. The lass had no business trying to lug in the wood, but she had five logs lined up for the first fire before I came into the hall.”

Graeme closed his eyes and shook his head. This was nonsense. Complete and utter nonsense and no matter what Rorie said or how valid her argument was, there was no way he was allowing this to continue.

He was prevented from demanding an accounting from every single woman in the keep when Eveline hurried in, her cheeks pale from the cold. Several tendrils of her hair had come loose from her braid and they framed her face. Despite her harried expression, she still managed to take Graeme’s breath away.

“Oh, good morn, Graeme,” she said breathlessly. She dipped a curtsy and then hurried on past him toward the table where food was already being served.

He blinked and swiveled so he could follow her progress across the room. She sat next to his chair and smiled at his brothers, who’d already taken their seats. Only Rorie was missing, but then the lass didn’t always come to break her fast with the others.

Before he left to go sit with her and his brothers, he turned back to Anton with a quick frown. “Do not allow this to happen again. You make certain she doesn’t try to carry wood inside this keep even if you have to stack it inside. She isn’t to light these fires.”

Anton nodded his agreement and Graeme left to go sit next to his wife.

She smiled brilliantly at him as he took his seat by her
side. Despite her seeming cheer, he could see the dark smudges underneath her eyes and it made him angry all over again that she was working so hard to find acceptance and his clan was being ridiculously thickheaded in their resistance.

Who could possibly resist a smile such as hers? Furthermore, how could anyone spend even a moment in Eveline’s presence and think she was anything like her kin? The Armstrongs were a bloodthirsty, savage lot who thought nothing of killing others to suit their purposes. Eveline was a tenderhearted lass who didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

Except that she had taken a sword to the women of his clan and had run them all out of the keep.

He frowned over that matter. The lass had been under duress and she could hardly be blamed for taking a stand in the face of such mean-spirited insults.

He fully intended to take up the matter of all this work she was performing over the morning meal, but she kept up a lively conversation with his brothers, though he had no idea of what the discussion was about, exactly. He wasn’t sure his brothers had any more idea than he did, but they indulged her and responded in kind with a ready smile.

He appreciated their acceptance and their support, and he knew that in time it would bleed over into the rest of the clan. Perhaps Rorie was right and Eveline just needed some time to adjust and time to win over the women.

It seemed to him that she already had the support of his men. They didn’t seem inclined to want her to suffer and thus far he’d heard of no man offering insult to her. The women, however, were another matter, but even then he couldn’t exactly fault them for their loyalty to him and the Montgomery name.

He sighed. ’Twas a difficult matter to be certain. The
women had always been steadfast in support of the men of the clan. It was a matter that had always brought Graeme much pride. His own mother had been an important factor in bringing that kind of fierce, unbending loyalty to the women.

Before she’d died giving birth to Rorie, she’d often rallied the women around the men, preached the importance of having strong clan ties that extended to every single man, woman, and child. Graeme’s father had oft chuckled and said it was a foolish man who tread in the path of his wife because she was fiercer than any warrior Robert Montgomery had ever trained.

His mother would have liked Eveline. Graeme didn’t deceive himself by thinking that his mother’s acceptance of Eveline would have been automatic. She would have greeted the marriage with every bit as much disdain as all the other members of the clan had. But given time, she would have been drawn to Eveline’s charm and her resilience. She would have also heartily approved of Eveline being resourceful enough to have avoided marriage with a man who intended to sorely abuse her.

Graeme frowned when Eveline rose after having finished her meal. He’d fully intended to address the matter of her duties.

“A moment please, Eveline,” he said when he was sure he had her attention.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Graeme. I don’t have time right now. There are duties to attend and I’m sure you must be busy with the men. We’ll discuss what it is you have on your mind at the evening meal.”

With that she smiled and kissed him full on the lips in front of the entire hall. Then she patted his cheek and cheerfully went on by. She walked out of the hall at a fast clip, leaving Graeme completely befuddled.

It wasn’t until a moment later that he realized he was
still frozen to his chair, the imprint of her mouth still tingling on his lips.

There were snickers and guffaws all around, but he paid them no heed. His gaze was riveted to the soft swing of his wife’s bottom as she exited the hall.

C
HAPTER
30

Father Drummond arrived the next day and Eveline was surprised to discover he was a young man, perhaps a few years younger than Teague.

He was cheerful looking, with a ready smile and an easy disposition. In a sea of warriors, he stood out because he was so different from the others. He was paler skinned, fair without a blemish that could be seen. He had blond hair, almost the same shade as Eveline’s, and blue eyes that sparkled when he smiled.

Eveline thought they could be siblings because they resembled each other so closely.

It shamed her that she’d expected an older man, stern and forbidding, a harsh taskmaster who would be ruthless in his teachings.

It was obvious he was a friend to the Montgomery clan, because everyone greeted him warmly. He was treated to a series of slaps on the back that should have had him flat on the ground. Eveline winced every time a different warrior greeted him.

Rorie was practically dancing in delight, so excited was she by the priest’s arrival. She could barely contain herself while she waited for Father Drummond’s attention.

He greeted her warmly in turn, kissing her on either cheek when Graeme finally came around to the reason he’d sent for the father.

Father Drummond laughed when he was told of Rorie’s intent to learn to read and write, but didn’t seem surprised that he was to begin teaching her.

Then Graeme motioned for Eveline to come forward when he saw her standing on the periphery of the crowd assembled to greet Father Drummond.

“Father, this is Eveline, my wife,” Graeme said, making certain he was turned so Eveline could see his mouth.

The priest smiled broadly and reached for both of Eveline’s hands. “My lady, I’ve heard so much about you. You must tell me how you learned to read the words of others on their lips. ’Tis a most ingenious ability.”

Eveline’s cheeks heated under the praise and she smiled shyly back. She was careful to avoid allowing him to take her hands. She didn’t want anyone to know of the blisters and broken skin. The roughness of her hands shamed her.

“It took some time and I’m still not adept at reading the words of everyone. Some people aren’t as clear in their speech as others.”

Graeme touched her gently on the arm. “A little louder, Eveline.”

Embarassed, Eveline repeated herself again, making it a point to enunciate each of the words and speak in a louder volume. Graeme nodded slightly to let her know her tone was more audible this time.

“I’m fascinated by your ability to adapt to a hearing loss,” the priest said. “ ’Tis a subject I very much want to discuss with you at a later time.”

Eveline smiled, her heart warming at the father’s easy acceptance. He didn’t find her odd at all and, in fact, he seemed quite impressed with her ability. She hadn’t realized
just how stressful it had been to go so long without a kind word or a genuine smile. It made her heart ache for her own home, where her family loved her no matter if she were daft or completely normal. She was still loved and accepted.

For a moment grief was thick in her throat at the thought of a family she might well never see again. Graeme had been quite forceful on the matter of her kin ever setting foot on his lands, and her own father would not want to allow the Montgomerys on his lands, even if it meant not seeing his only daughter.

She excused herself from the company of her husband and Father Drummond and hurried away before her upset became evident.

She didn’t even flinch when she came face-to-face with Nora, who had more tasks for Eveline to complete. Being busy would take her mind from her current sadness. She missed the hugs of her brothers and the company of her mother when they’d sit sewing in the evenings. She hadn’t so much as picked up a needle since her arrival here, though she knew her mother had packed all her threads.

Ignoring the pain in her hands, she set about beating out the rugs that lined the hallways and corridors of the keep. She also made certain that the chamber the father would occupy was clean and aired out and a fresh fire lit to rid the room of its chill.

Graeme would be able to find no fault with her abilities to run the keep. She was ensuring their guest was taken care of and she’d already spoken to Mary about a special meal to welcome the priest.

But sadness plagued her the rest of the day and no matter how busy she kept herself, she wasn’t able to shake the ache in her heart. With every skeptical glance thrown her way, she felt even more woefully inadequate and out of place.

By the time the call for the evening meal was made, Eveline was near to dropping. She was so tired that she could barely manage to trudge the distance to the hall. And she truly needed to climb the stairs to her chamber so she could freshen her appearance. Father Drummond would occupy a place of honor at Graeme’s table this night and she was bedraggled, sweaty, and dirty.

With a groan, she mounted the steps and forced her way the remaining distance to her chamber.

Once there, she took special care to arrange her hair away from her face and to brush all the tangles from the tresses. She didn’t want to wear the underdress and tunic she’d worn so recently, so she chose another of the dresses her mother had sewn.

It was a beautiful dark blue, similar to the dress she’d worn for her wedding, but not quite as grand. It was more suitable for an honored guest than the gown she’d worn for her marriage to Graeme.

There was a white overtunic, like the one she’d worn with the green underdress, only this one had an embroidered hem all the way around and the cuffs of the sleeve were also embroidered with a rich blue thread to match the underdress.

The sleeves covered much of her hands, a fact she was grateful for, because they were red and angry looking from the blisters and the places where she’d torn and scraped the skin. She looked at them with a grimace, thinking how horrified her mother would be over their appearance. They were not the hands of a gently bred lady.

Being a gently bred lady did nothing to gain her acceptance by Graeme’s clan. Clearly they valued hard work over grace and elegance, and Eveline couldn’t entirely blame them. A mistress of the keep who could work side by side with the other women was far preferable to a lady who could stitch a straight seam.

When she was satisfied that no fault could be found with her appearance, she braved the stairs again, groaning inwardly with every step down. Forcing a smile to her lips, she turned the corner to enter the hall and focused on the table where Graeme sat with his brothers.

Graeme looked her way and she could swear she saw relief and then pleasure in his eyes. It warmed her heart and alleviated some of the aching sadness that had been with her much of the day.

Her step became lighter and she was able to forget the pain and stiffness that accompanied her every movement.

As she drew near, Graeme rose and offered his hand to assist her onto the dais. Instead of taking his hand, she placed her fingertips on his arm, allowing him to aid her. She smiled at Bowen and Teague and then at Rorie, who beamed from ear to ear as she sat across from the priest. Then she gave another welcoming smile to Father Drummond and bade him welcome to their table.