Amanda Scott (26 page)

“Only look at the poor wee thing! Who could have done it?”

“Done what? How did she get like this?” Cristina demanded as she took the kitten and wrapped it in her skirt, carrying it downstairs as she talked.

“She was trapped in a pail of water in your tower room,” Isobel said. “The pail was too deep for her to climb out, and she was nearly exhausted. Had I not gone in when I did, she would have drowned. Where are you going?” she added.

“To the kitchen,” Cristina said. “’Tis the warmest room in the castle.”

They met Mariota on the way. “What is all the fuss?” she demanded.

“Hector’s kitten nearly drowned in a pail of water,” Cristina said. “She’s shivering and weak. I just hope she doesn’t sicken and die.”

“Well, it would hardly be a tragedy if it did,” Mariota said. “Many people drown kittens at birth. Indeed, I warrant this one and the gray would have suffered that fate had Isobel not given them to you as wedding gifts. I told her Lochbuie probably already had more cats than you’d need, but she would not heed me.”

“Hector likes Soot. He’d be upset if anything happened to her.”

“Don’t be a noddy,” Mariota said. “If he wants a kitten, he’d simply get another. When do you mean to go to Ardtornish, Cristina?”

“I don’t know that I’m going at all,” Cristina said, stepping past her. “Hector went to Duart and means to travel straight on from there to Ardtornish. He said nothing about my going, but I expect that when he wants me, he will send for me.”

“Well, I would not stand for such treatment,” Mariota said, following as Cristina and Isobel continued on to the kitchen. “It is to be a grand occasion, after all, and you are his wife. You should be there. If I were his wife, I would be.”

“I’m sure you would,” Cristina said. “Isobel, get that basket yonder and move it near the fire. Calum, I’m going to put this kitten by the fire to warm her. She nearly drowned in a pail of water.”

“Aye, m’lady. Mayhap she’ll be a good mouser one day.”

“Such a fuss over a kitten,” Mariota said, chuckling. “Now it will doubtless turn the kitchen upside down. You should not be leaving pails of water around in your chamber for kittens to fall into, Cristina.”

“I didn’t,” Cristina said, frowning, “I cannot imagine how it got there.”

“Doubtless, one of the maids or lads simply thought you’d like fresh water in your tower room, just as you do in your bedchamber,” Mariota said airily.

Cristina nodded, thinking it a reasonable answer. It was not until just before she fell asleep that night that it occurred to her to wonder how Mariota had known the kitten’s accident had occurred in the tower chamber. The wee thing seemed to have recovered from its ordeal with no ill effects, but she was sure she had not mentioned the room in describing its ordeal to Mariota. There must be an innocent explanation, she decided. She would ask her about it in the morning.

However, the arrival of Macleod of Glenelg shortly after Cristina had broken her fast the next morning put all thought of questioning Mariota out of her head.

“Sir,” she exclaimed, “what brings you to Lochbuie?”

“Why, I’ve come to take Mariota to Ardtornish wi’ me to meet the next King o’ Scots,” Macleod said. “’Tis time and all I found the lass a husband, after all. I’d thought ye’d be on your own way there by now, lass.”

“No, sir, nor did I expect you, so I’d not have gone whilst my aunt and sisters remained here. My husband has gone, however, to confer with his brother at Duart. He’ll go on to Ardtornish from there,” she added glibly. “I knew you would be going, of course, but I did not know that you meant to stop here and take Mariota with you. Do you mean to take Isobel and Aunt Euphemia as well?”

“Nay, nay, what would I want wi’ a hoyden and a jabber-woman? Ye’ll keep them here, and if you go to Ardtornish, you can decide what to do with them then. So he didna want ye wi’ him, eh?” he added abruptly. “How did ye come to vex the man this time?”

Although he had guessed a portion of the truth, she did not intend to tell him more, so she drew herself up to her full height instead and looked him straight in the eye. “What can you mean by that, I wonder,” she said, ruthlessly repressing the much angrier words she yearned to fling at him.

He had the grace to redden, but he said bluntly, “Ye should be wi’ your husband. To deny ye your rightful place at his side be to offend all Macleods. Moreover, the Steward will wonder where ye are.”

“Then he must wonder, I expect. Will you want a meal before you depart?”

“Aye, sure, and why not? I’m no planning to leave till I’ve had me dinner. Would ye ha’ me believe your sister can be ready to leave in less time?”

Cristina sent word to the kitchen that he would join them for the midday meal, then went in search of Mariota to tell her to pack her things.

“Ardtornish?” Mariota’s eyebrows soared upward, and then she smiled with delight. “I am to go to his grace’s court with Father?”

“Aye, and straightaway after we dine,” Cristina said. “Shall I help you with anything, or can you manage on your own?”

“What of Isobel?”

“She is to stay here with me.”

“Good,” Mariota said. “A little girl like that one would just be in the way at such an affair as his grace intends to hold.”

“The reception for the Steward is still days away,” Cristina reminded her.

“That gives me plenty of time to meet people,” Mariota said, flinging open one of her chests and beginning to pull clothing from it. “If you can spare me Tess or your Brona for an hour or so, I shall manage easily, I think. I just hope I don’t look like a dowdy compared to all the grand ladies who will be there.”

“You could not look dowdy if you tried,” Cristina reassured her, wishing she could command her to stay away from Hector.

As if Mariota had read her thoughts, she looked up with a sly smile and said, “Don’t you wish you could be there to keep an eye on that handsome husband of yours? I shall enjoy flirting with him, I can tell you. After all, once he gets his annulment, nothing will stand in our way.”

With a sigh, Cristina said, “I’ll send Tess to help you.”

Noting that her fingers were curling again, she hurried away, and sent a gillie to relay the message to Tess.

Then, without a word to anyone else, she hurried up to the tower chamber and shut the door, wishing she had ordered a bolt or bar installed on it that she could throw to lock herself in. She would attend to that when Mariota had gone. That thought, in that room, reminded her of the kitten’s near-fatal mishap, and she looked for the pail it had fallen into. Someone had tidied the chamber, sweeping and opening the curtain over the one narrow window, but she found the pail, empty now, standing in the corner behind the door.

Her thoughts shifted again to Mariota. Surely, her usually lighthearted sister would never do anything so cruel. In a rage, as Cristina knew only too well, Mariota was capable of nearly anything, because she thought only of her anger and her determination to get even with whoever had caused it. But she had shown no sign of anger at Lochbuie. On the contrary, she had seemed very happy.

Even when she had disobeyed Hector’s edict, she had suffered no consequences, clearly having charmed him into believing she had had good reason for her behavior, just as she had charmed Macleod over the years—and anyone else who might have had cause to be annoyed with her. In any case, Soot could not have angered her. Doubtless, the whole thing had been an accident, the kitten having climbed or fallen into a pail left by a careless housemaid, and Mariota’s knowledge had come, as most knowledge in the Isles came, from swiftly flying word of mouth.

Having no wish to endure more of his father’s company without the mitigating influence of Lachlan’s presence, Hector had gone on to Ardtornish the next day, finding his twin in conference with the Lord of the Isles.

“Faith, but I did not expect you so soon,” Lachlan said.

“You said you’d intended to get the flotilla organized,” Hector said. “I went to Duart, expecting to find you there, but Mairi said you had come here. When do you fetch the Steward?”

“Ranald is going to fetch his grandfather,” Lachlan said, referring to one of MacDonald’s elder sons. “It was his own notion, and I think it an excellent one.”

MacDonald said, “Robert will reach Oban on Saturday. Meeting him there means the shortest sea journey, so Ranald will take my royal galley to fetch him, and the flotilla will escort them. We have more than fifty boats, with more arriving each day,” he added with satisfaction.

“We’ve so many that I mean to send half of them to make a show of strength in the west,” Lachlan said. “There have been more accounts of trouble there, and I want to stop it. I’m thinking a small navy of longboats will deter them.”

“I’ve been wondering about this matter of petrels,” Hector said. “’Tis a dangerous business, collecting the wee birds from precipitous cliff tops, but ’tis one that Islesmen have practiced for years without much trouble. The oil goes abroad, and the gelt for it comes back to his grace, who divides it and its benefits among the Islesmen. In fact, except for the one argument you settled weeks ago, we seem to hear only rumors of this violence and disruption. We’ve had none at all on Mull.”

“What are you thinking? What reason could anyone have to stir rumors?”

“Mayhap to divert fully half of your flotilla away from Oban.”

“Faith, even if you’re wrong, we dare not chance it. We must ponder this.”

Hector nodded, very glad that he had not let Cristina come with him, and glad, too, that the rest of his boats would arrive that day or the next from Lochbuie.

In the days that followed Mariota’s departure, Cristina missed her almost as much as she missed Hector. For the most part, she had enjoyed her company and her merry comments. Lady Euphemia was kind and meant well, but she was not as cheerful as Mariota. Even so, Cristina rejoiced to see how comfortable her aunt was at Lochbuie. The hesitant manner so natural to her at Chalamine had disappeared, replaced by a distinct if somewhat vaguely expressed interest in everything that took place at the castle. One afternoon, Cristina had found her sitting with a group of the servants’ children, telling them bards’ tales, to their great delight.

Lady Euphemia asked if she wanted her for any particular purpose, and when Cristina said she did not, her aunt had happily returned to her storytelling.

Isobel, too, seemed happy at Lochbuie, and Cristina was coming to value her little sister’s company. The child was bright and considerate, if a little prone to impulsive behavior. She had shown no disappointment at either Mariota’s departure or Macleod’s refusal to take her with them to Ardtornish.

“I’m not old enough yet to marry,” she said matter-of-factly. “In fact, I do not think I want a husband. I wish that women could live by themselves if they wished to do so, because I think I’d like above all things to live in a tower on one of the smaller isles, where I could do exactly as I pleased.”

“Some of the isles are quite small,” Cristina pointed out with a smile. “You would want enough room to ride your pony.”

“You are teasing me,” Isobel said. “But don’t you think life would be more peaceful if men were not continually fighting each other? Women’s lives certainly would be, without men constantly making demands upon them, wanting their dinner and clean shirts, and all. Let them cook and wash for themselves, I say.”

Cristina laughed. “They’d all soon be filthy and would starve.”

“No, they wouldn’t. Most of them manage well without women when they go off to war, or go off in ships to puff off their consequence along some coast.”

“True enough,” Cristina agreed. “Sometimes they can be useful to have around though,” she added, thinking of the pleasure she had enjoyed at Hector’s hands before the awful moment that anger had replaced his passion. Whatever happened between them in the future, she hoped that somehow they could be friends. Not that such a thought eased her mind. She wanted much more than that.

“What?” Isobel said, watching her. “Your face changed just then. It softened, then looked sad. What were you thinking?”

“Private thoughts, my love, not for bairns’ ears.”

“You sound like Calum now, but whatever those thoughts were, they must have been about some man I haven’t met, because all the ones I have met want to tell you what to do and how to do it. Not that Hector is an ogre or anything like that, because I do like him mostly, and I’m glad you married him instead of Mariota.”

“People would have thought it odd indeed if I had married Mariota.”

Isobel chuckled. “You know what I mean. Do not pretend you do not.”

“I know.”

“And I think you are glad you did, too.”

Cristina could not deny it, although her heart ached when she thought of the likely trials that lay ahead of her. She could not help but be frustrated and resentful that Mariota was at Ardtornish, doubtless with Hector and doubtless flirting outrageously with him as she had from the day they’d first met.

And he, villain that he was, was doubtless flirting right back.

Time passed slowly, but welcome diversion came two days later, when a gillie announced visitors just as the ladies were finishing their midday meal.

“Ian Dubh, Chief of Clan Gillean, and her ladyship, Mairi of the Isles,” the lad intoned in a manner more suited to the lord chamberlain Cristina had seen at Stirling when Macleod had taken her to court in hopes of finding her a husband.

She jumped up to greet her guests, making a low curtsy to Ian Dubh and bidding him welcome to Lochbuie.

“I am pleased to see you again, sir,” she said, as he drew her to her feet and kissed her cheek.

Instead of answering her directly, he smiled as he looked around. “Do I detect your hand in this hall, madam? I vow my son never made a room look as comfortable as this.”

“Cristina has wrought wonders here, sir,” Mairi said, grinning at her. “But we should explain our mission to her immediately, do you not agree? I warrant she will want some time to prepare.”

“Yes, indeed,” he said. “You are right to remind me, my dear. The plain truth is, madam, that I have taken the decision to attend this party his grace means to arrange to show the Steward how much support he has in the Isles, and I should take it as a great favor if you will do me the honor to accompany me.”