The Frost Maiden's Kiss (8 page)

He had seen this realm of the Fae on the night of his arrival at Ravensmuir, however.

“It was a dark dark night, with no light;

they waded through red blood to the knee:

For all the blood that’s shed on earth;

runs through the rivers of Fairie.”

Malcolm started at that detail and realized that Catriona was watching him. It seemed she sang the next verse to him.

“He saw the thorn upon the hill,

and he did hear the sea.”

The girls’ eyes rounded as Catriona pointed from the hedge of thorns to the sea beyond the cliffs. “They
are
here,” Catherine whispered, once again drawing closer to Catriona.

“But in this part of the tale, she teaches him,” Mairi confided to her sisters, then sang the next verse.

“‘Oh do you see yon narrow road,

so thick beset with thorns and briars?

That is the path of righteousness,

though after it but few enquires.”

That was true enough, in Malcolm’s experience of men, though he did not comment upon it. He was aware that Catriona sang directly to him, as if she guessed his thoughts.

Did she have the Sight? Had she guessed the truth of his holding?

Or did she simply tell a tale to keep the girls out of mischief?

Once again, Astrid joined the song. She had a fine clear voice, higher than Mairi’s and one that reminded Malcolm a little too well of the sweet Fae voices he had heard at their revels.

“And do you see that broad broad road,

that lies across the little leven?

That is the path of wickedness,

though some call it the road to heaven.’”

Catriona then sang again. Her voice was a rich contralto that Malcolm found wondrously feminine and surprisingly warm. She pointed to the ruins of the old keep and the path of beaten-down grass that the mason’s apprentices had created when retrieving stones.

“‘And do you see that bonnie road,

which winds about the ferny slope?

That is the road to the Fairie court,

where you and I this night will go.”

Catriona shook her finger, even as Malcolm’s heart clenched.

“But Thomas, you must hold your tongue,

whatever you may hear or see;

For if a word you should chance to speak,

never will you return to your own country.’”

“That is how it is,” Mairi informed Malcolm solemnly. “If you eat or drink at the Fae court, you can never leave. In every tale, it is the same so it must be true.”

“I know it is true.”

“How do you know it?”

“Because I have seen it.”

“
Here
?” The girls squealed with delight when Malcolm nodded, though Catriona’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“But you must not have danced. If you dance, you will dance for years when you think it mere moments,” Astrid informed him with equal seriousness.

“Indeed. It is wisest to stay away in the first place.” Malcolm knew more than sufficient of such errors. He was spared the need to elaborate when Catriona sang again.

“She blew her horn, took the reins,

and to the castle they did ride.

Into the hall rightly she went;

Thomas followed at her side.

Harp and fiddle there they found,

the gittern and the psaltery;

The lute and rebec there did sound,

and all manner of minstrelsy.”

“It seemed a fine place,” Mairi explained to Malcolm as if he might fail to understand the lesson of the tale. “But it was a Fae trick played upon True Thomas.”

“They are deceitful,” Malcolm agreed and Mairi began to sing again.

“One morn, his lady spake to him;

‘Thomas, here you may no longer be.

Hasten yourself with might and main,

I shall take you to the Eildon Tree.’

Thomas said with heavy cheer,

‘Lovely lady, let me take ease,

for scarce have I savored this place;

merely seven nights and days.’”

This time Mairi shook her finger, mimicking Catriona before she continued.

“‘Forsooth, Thomas, I tell you true:

You have danced seven years and more!

You must here no longer dwell;

I shall take you home therefore.’”

The girls sang the last verse along with Catriona.

“He has gotten a coat of even cloth,

and shoes of velvet green,

but ’til seven years were past and gone

True Thomas was never seen.”

It was a fine tale and finely told.

Had Catriona chosen it on purpose to reveal that she had seen the truth?

Chapter Three

“Is that what happened to you?” Mairi demanded of Malcolm. “Have you truly been to the Unseelie court?” This eldest girl was clearly the boldest of Erik’s daughters, and Malcolm could see in her eyes that she was no fool. Her hair was of a chestnut hue and fell in waves down her back. Astrid had hair even darker than that of her older sister, and Malcolm assumed that this came from their mother, for Erik was fair. Catherine’s hair tended to reddish gold, while both William and Euphemia had hair of brilliant red.

“First I was at war. It was on my return to Scotland that I heard their music, but I did not dance,” he said, crouching down beside Mairi. He felt Catriona watching him and knew she wondered whether his tale were true. He dropped his voice as if confiding a dark secret to the children. “For I had a nursemaid so wise as to warn me of the danger, when I was no larger than your brother William. Your Catriona does you great service to warn you of the perils here at Ravensmuir.” Malcolm wagged a finger at the girls. “And so, you must pledge to me that you will remain in the hall when you are alone.”

“What if we will not?” Mairi asked. “I should like to run here in the bailey.” Her gaze slid to the masons and their workers, more than one of whom was watching the small group of girls. Malcolm leveled a stern look at the men he was employing, his single glance sending them back to work with gusto.

“While there are men abroad and work being done?” Catriona chided, her thoughts having followed the same course as his own. “I think not.”

“I confess I agree with Catriona,” Malcolm said. He straightened, towering over the girls and doing his best to look imposing. “You must recall that I am Laird of Ravensmuir and you are guests in my hall. Should you disobey my edict while on my holding, one made purely for your own safety, you shall be compelled to be the first guests in my dungeon.”

“Are there spiders?” Catherine asked with evident horror.

“Bogles,” Catriona replied with crisp authority. Even Malcolm nigh believed her, she spoke with such conviction. “Every laird of sense keeps such goblins in his dungeons, for they like to torment liars and murderers.”

The girls squealed and clustered around her.

“Can we see it?” Mairi demanded.

“Of course. I shall let you visit it, the better for you to become acquainted with the bogles.” Malcolm shrugged. “Perhaps they are hungry. I confess that I have not fed them overwell as yet.”

“Nay!” Astrid and Catherine cried out, then the girls pledged to obey Malcolm’s command. He gestured to the great hall, bidding them to proceed before him.

“I shall be first to see inside the hall,” Mairi said, her voice rising in challenge, then she sprinted toward the portal. The others flew after her, shouting for her to wait.

Rafael came from the stables then, pausing to spare a glance to Catriona, then inclined his head to Malcolm. “They have chosen the fourth stall, which is empty.”

“If you please, send a boy to Kinfairlie,” Malcolm instructed. “Perhaps Alexander will lend some pallets to better ensure the comfort of our guests this night.” Especially as those guests were his own sister and family. Malcolm pursed his lips, trying to anticipate practical needs. “He might also loan us a few milk goats.” He glanced at Catriona and raised his brows, and she nodded grateful agreement.

“That would be most helpful, my lord.”

Rafael nodded and strode away, after one lingering glance at Catriona. She glared at him. Malcolm waited in silence, expecting her to follow the children, but instead, she turned and spoke to him.

“I thank you, my lord,” she said, her hands knotted together in a way that hinted at some agitation. “I appreciate that you did not unveil my ruse to the girls, but you did not have to declare that you had seen the Fae yourself.”

Malcolm did not smile. “Who said yours was a ruse?”

She smiled coolly at him. “There are no Fae, sir. They are but the stuff of tales.” She lifted a brow. “You do not have to tell me that you have visited the Unseelie court to keep me from entering the ruins. I can well imagine that they are unstable.”

He held her gaze, wondering how much of the truth she saw, and found himself surprised that he did not wish to hide anything from her. “But if you do not believe in the Fae, then your tale was meant to deceive. Do you oft trick the children thus?”

Catriona’s color rose at his choice of words and Malcolm admired how well it suited her. She looked softer and more feminine with that flush upon her cheeks. “I see no harm in pretending a tale carries some truth when that will serve the greater good. They have been fascinated by the notion of the ruins since Ruari spoke of them. They are four and quick, my lord, and I would not have this visit marred by ill fortune. Surely you would not like to see any accident befall them.”

“I would not and believe your concern is well-placed. Though I think there may be more to this world than you acknowledge, Catriona, particularly at Ravensmuir.” He lingered over her name, letting his gaze linger on his. He saw the way she caught her breath, the flicker of her eyes before she set her lips with a determination that was becoming familiar. “Am I so terrifying as that?” he asked gently.

She took a deep breath and a step back. “I have known naught good of mercenaries, sir, and expect little better from warriors with power.”

“Indeed.”

She was wary, but she continued. “It seems that the strong are destined to prey upon the weak.”

“While I have always been taught that it is the responsibility of the strong to defend the weak.”

“So you said.” Catriona’s gaze was so cool a blue that Malcolm knew her to be resolute. “I fear, my lord, that experience makes me skeptical of such a claim.”

“Then you shall have to linger at Ravensmuir to replace your understanding with mine.”

The notion clearly troubled her, for she shook her head and abruptly turned away.

“Please await me in the hall, Catriona. I would speak to the lead mason.”

She looked back, a query in her expression. “Why tell me this, sir?”

“I would discourage the curiosity in the men that you and I both noticed, and I wish you to know that it will be done.”

“How, my lord?”

Malcolm spoke with resolve. “I shall make it clear to him that the rations of ale will be halved if any woman or maid or girl in my household sustains so much injury as a broken fingernail.”

Catriona’s lips parted as she stared at him in surprise. “And does this edict apply to your comrade, as well?”

“It applies to all men in my holding,” Malcolm insisted quietly, guessing that she feared a surprise in the night while in his abode. “You are safe here, Catriona. I pledge it to you.”

She was enticing enough when she was bold, but when her eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise, Malcolm found her alluring indeed.

He let his voice drop to a confidential tone. “For if you do not believe that a man of merit defends those weaker than himself, then I am compelled to prove it to you, Catriona. It is a matter of principle.”

With that, Malcolm turned away to keep his word, knowing she watched him go. Indeed, he felt new purpose in his own step, for there was good he could do in this world. He would destroy Catriona’s fear of him before she left his abode, no matter the price.

* * *

The Laird of Ravensmuir defied her every expectation.

He would defend the chastity of the women in his household. He would ensure the safety of the children, and he anticipated the needs of his guests. He was neither so proud as to avoid making an apology or to refuse to ask for assistance from the brother who disapproved of his choices.

Was it possible that he was a man of principle?

Or was this all a deceit?

He did, after all, confess to believing in the Fae, which was a strange sign of whimsy in such as he.

The combination was nigh enough to make him intriguing.

The laird was an alluring man, to be sure. If Catriona had not endured all she had, she might well have been more receptive to him. The way he said her name like a caress, the way he watched her with that fixed attention, the way his eyes had glimmered as if he might smile when she told the girls of bogles.

On the other hand, the laird’s perusal of her was so intense that she was put in mind of a hawk choosing its next prey.

Catriona could not imagine why he should seek her good opinion, and she distrusted how readily he conjured it. Perhaps he
was
a sorcerer as Ruari had suggested. Or perhaps he understood that she was not accustomed to attentions from men of power. In her state, she hardly offered any temptation. Her back ached even now after that ride in the cart, and she felt so large and ungainly that she could not believe he had noticed her at all.