The Highlander's Bride (10 page)

Upon the older woman’s return with the thread, Laurel asked, “Glynis, do you know where Laird McTiernay is? I did not seem him when we entered.”

“Oh no, you wouldn’t, milady. The laird receives his guests in the great hall. The lower hall is now used for the gathering and companionship of the soldiers.”

Laurel tried to hide her shock. “He has guests?”

“Aye. Laird Schellden and his guard arrived this morning when he heard of the laird’s impending return. I expect Laird McTiernay will be at the hall most of the night. Do you need me to get him for you?”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. Please, do not interrupt Laird McTiernay in his duties. I have already been a bother to him enough these past few days. I was just curious.”

Glynis smiled and left to fetch the bath water and the lilac soap. Oh, the lady was definitely interested in her laird. Glynis knew that many a McTiernay woman had tried to get his attention over the years, but no one interested him. But earlier that day, the laird had given her such detailed instructions to prepare for the lady’s coming she would have thought the Queen of Scotland was visiting. Now, the Lady Laurel was here and though quite a mess, Glynis could see she was quite beautiful and had a giving heart. Aye, Glynis hummed to herself, if she was strong enough, Lady Laurel could be the one.

Later, after she had washed, Laurel sat in her clean chemise repairing her gown. She felt quite refreshed. Glynis was helping her brush out the tangles in her hair. It had been quite a chore to remove the filth and clean the stench that had seemed permanently stained on her skin.

“Oh, milady. You truly are the most bonnie lass my eyes have ever seen,” Glynis said as she helped brush and tie back Laurel’s long wavy hair.

“You are kind, but I assure you there is no reason for you to wait on me. I realize that your duties must be numerous and great here.”

“Oh, no. Only the kitchen staff really have any duties here, and they rotate the responsibilities every day with other women of the clan.”

“There is no established staff for the keep?” Laurel asked incredulously.

“Well, with the exception of the blacksmith, swordsmith, and the stable master, no, there is not. Some time back, the laird felt his brothers were getting complacent and demanding with the help. So, he sent the help back to their homes and lands, and with the exception of cooks, the younger McTiernays must maintain for themselves.” Glynis then leaned over as if telling a great secret and whispered, “And they do a mighty poor job of it too, milady. Their rooms are unkempt. The halls are messy and filled with stench much of the time.”

“But what about guests? Are they to be received in such manner?”

“Oh, in those times, the great hall is used, and guests’ quarters are cleaned for the time they are here. Otherwise, there really is no housekeeping. I tell you, milady, it is a shame. The keep is need of someone.” And not just the keep—the laird was in need of a lady, Glynis murmured to herself.

The hint was not lost on Laurel. “Dear Glynis, how refreshing you are. First, I insist that you call me Laurel. But second, I must clarify this misconception at once. I am not the laird’s lady. He rescued me—that is all. He knows I will be leaving come spring.”

“But you are staying in his mother’s room,” Glynis protested.

“Glynis. I understand how Conor’s request gave you the wrong impression.”
She called him Conor
, Glynis thought as Laurel continued. “But it was only a temporary measure so that I could rest and clean up. I will not be staying here this evening. Craig told me of an empty cottage. I will be staying there until spring when I take my leave. But I do appreciate your hospitality.”

At first, Glynis thought to object, but then she decided that more would be accomplished if she let Laurel follow through with her declaration. “If you insist, Lady Laurel,” she said, smiling inwardly, wondering what Laird McTiernay would do when he found her sleeping in a cottage alone outside the castle walls.

“There,” Laurel stated as she finished the last stitch. “If you could just help with two more things, Glynis, I will ask no more.”

Laurel looked embarrassed, but realized her requests were necessary. She could do neither without help. “First, well, I am sure you saw the state of my side. I need help binding my ribs again before I dress.”

“Certainly, milady.” A few minutes later, Glynis began to deftly wind the wrappings.

“Glynis, you have done this before?” It was a rhetorical statement. Laurel could see and feel that she was in experienced hands.

“Aye, Lady Laurel. Many times. Whoever bound you before also knew what they were doing.” The older woman playfully paused as she began to tie off the ends of what she knew had been part of a man’s leine. “I am surprised that you would allow one of the guards to help you with such a task,” Glynis probed.

“Oh no, it was Conor himself who insisted. I did not want him to, but he refused to take no for an answer. I must admit though, he was right. My ribs and breathing were much improved after being bound.”

“I understand. I would suggest keeping the wrappings on for a few more days or longer if your breathing is still labored.”
So,
Glynis thought,
it was the laird himself who had seen to her wounds. Wait until the others hear about this
. “And what of your second request, Lady Laurel?”

“Please, just Laurel.”

“But you are a lady, are you not?”

“Once perhaps, but no longer. I just want to live a normal life, contribute to this clan during the winter months, and take my leave when spring comes. To do so, I cannot live here, which brings me to my second request. Could you tell me how to get out of the castle walls and to Old Gowan’s cottage?”

The request startled the older woman. It was one thing not to prevent the laird’s lady from leaving, another to aid her escape. Glynis took a deep breath and told herself it was out of love for her laird that she was going to do this. “Old Gowan’s cottage? Well, yes. I suppose I could. There is only one entrance to and from the keep, and but a single guard gate. When I am done here, I am going to return to my own home. I pass Gowan’s place on the way. I suggest we leave together.”

“Oh, thank you.” Laurel could not help it, but tears began to form. “You have been so kind. Are all highlanders like yourself?”

“Oh, milady. Are all English like yourself?”

Laurel then wiped her tears and chuckled to herself. “Let us leave, then.”

“Where is she?” Conor bellowed from the great hall. He had summoned someone to fetch Laurel from her rooms. He was anxious to see if the room pleased her. Laurel was the first to be allowed to sleep there since his mother’s passing. When the soldier returned to say that no one was in the room, the frustration Conor had been feeling since their separation exploded.

“I know she arrived. I saw her horse in the stables.” He glared at Finn. “Search this keep until she is found. I want to know who she saw and when. And most of all, Finn, I want to know where the hell she has been.”

Finn took his laird’s anger in stride. He knew that it was fear driving him now. Fear that he had somehow lost her.

Conor paced the great hall wondering where Laurel could be. She wouldn’t have left him. The gowns he had sent to her were still on the bed. The only evidence to show she had arrived were her horse and the used bath water still in his mother’s chambers.

She had vowed she would not stay in the keep unwed. Could she really have meant it? Fear for her safety gnawed at him. His pacing increased as person after person returned with bad news.

“She was not at the river, laird. Nor has anyone been seen going or returning from there since she arrived,” informed one soldier.

“Neal here, laird,” the stable master gasped, winded. “I am sorry, but I only saw the lass when she arrived. I must say she is an enchanting, if not a little confused, creature. I hope that she is found without harm. It would be a shame to lose such an unusual lady.”

Conor swiftly turned and said in a biting tone, “She will be found. And God help anyone who touches even a single hair on her head.”

Neal would normally have been surprised at his laird’s harsh response. Conor usually reserved his anger for the battlefield. But, because Neal had met the intriguing lass himself, he understood the laird’s reaction.

“Neal, do you have any more to offer? Did she say where she might be?” Conor asked brusquely.

“No, laird. She gave me Borrail, and then…”

Conor turned and hollered. “Borrail? Who in the devil is Borrail?”

“Her horse, laird. She said that you gave him to her and bade me to take especially good care of him. Was this not true?”

Conor stifled a sigh. “Aye. Continue. And then…”

“Well, then, Cole came to bring her to the keep. She was very upset about something, staying in your mother’s chambers I believe. Said she wouldn’t do it. Then she mentioned something about Old Gowan’s cottage…”

Conor did not listen to the rest of Neal’s account. He abruptly turned and ran out the hall and across the courtyard.

“Open the gate!”

As he approached Old Gowan’s cabin, he could see Laurel stoking the fire through the window. Her hair was free and she was still wearing her worn gown, but he could see the sleeve was repaired.

All the fear that he had been experiencing the past two hours converted into anger. She had refused his shelter, his offer of clothing, and his orders to stay in the keep. She would not turn him down again.

He banged on the door.

Laurel had been preparing herself for Conor’s arrival. She knew that, once he discovered her defiance, he would come. She told herself that he really didn’t care whether or not she stayed at the keep. It was only pride that brought him here. If she could find a way to salvage his self-respect, surely he would let her stay in the cottage.

Suddenly the door caved in and he was standing in front of her in the small main room. He was huge and radiated a primitive masculine vitality. He had bathed and changed into new clothes and his plaid was secured around his waist. His sword was missing, but his saffron shirt with long, flowing sleeves hid none of his strength. The long tunic and decorated jacket he had worn in the morning were gone.

Seeing him towering just inside the door, arrogant but powerful, was almost her undoing. She had to remain firm, she told herself. She had to stay strong. If she surrendered now, she would not be able to maintain her distance in the future. She had to get him to leave before she threw herself into his arms, damning rules of propriety and discarding all of her dreams of love and matrimony.

She cleared her throat. “Why, Conor, what brings you here so late in the evening? I was just preparing for sleep myself,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant as if they were having a normal conversation.

Conor took a step closer. “Were you, Laurel? But you are so far away from your chambers,” he countered, his expression ominous.

She retreated as he advanced. “You mean the chambers you had prepared for me in your keep?”

“The same.”

“Well, Conor. I appreciate the offer. I really do, but I cannot accept. I will feel more comfortable here in this cottage. My staying here will help stop fueling everyone’s overactive imagination that I am something other than a maiden you rescued on your return home.”

“You know you are much more than that.”

Laurel shivered at the dangerous softness in his voice. “I do? Conor, I am afraid that I do not. We discussed this, and you know how I feel.”

“Nothing has changed, but I gave my word that I would protect you. I cannot do so with you sleeping outside of the castle walls.”

She straightened her shoulders, her lips thinning with anger. “But what of your other clansmen? They are outside of the castle walls.”

“They are highlanders,” Conor replied as if that explained everything. He then picked her up and began carrying her back to the castle.

“Conor McTiernay! You put me down right now. You have no right! Just because you are bigger and stronger does not mean that you can just have your way.”

“Looks like it does, Laurel,” Conor retorted, feeling somewhat mollified by the feel of her in his arms.

When he first opened the cottage door and saw her in the firelight, he could hardly breathe. Her hair, clean and unbraided, flowed down beyond her waist in waves of curls. No longer hidden by dirt and grime, her skin was flawless.

As she half-heartedly struggled in his arms, he was reminded how soft she was. Her scent washed over him, and he felt his desire grow. He had no idea how he was going to uphold his promise to stay away from her. She had an essence about her that attracted him on all levels, not just the physical.

Once in the courtyard, he let her go and put space between them. It did not help.

“Laurel, you will stay within these castle walls.”

“I will not. You can drag me here, Conor, but I will just leave again. I promise you, you will not win this war of wills. You may be a highlander, but I assure you, I can match your Scottish stubbornness!” she shouted at him, not holding any of her frustration back.

The commotion in the courtyard caught the attention of many in the keep, and they came to investigate the noise. The shock of finding their laird arguing with an arresting, unknown lady was intriguing.

“Love, if I have to drag you here one more time, it will be you, not I, regretting it.”

“Oh, save your bluster for your soldiers. You would not strike a lady, child, or a horse for that matter. And don’t bother denying it.”

Conor closed his eyes in brief, savage annoyance. “Don’t tempt me, Laurel. I meant what I said, do not leave the keep again or you will be regretting the deed.”

“Are you saying I am a prisoner? I cannot ride in the meadows? I cannot bathe in the stream?”

“Not alone, no. At least not while I am away from the castle. I can only be assured of your safety if you are behind these walls.”

Seeing the seriousness in his eyes, Laurel scrambled for an escape. “But your people! They are safe, are they not? Most of them live not here, but there!” She pointed outside the gate they just entered.