Charming the Shrew (22 page)

A man descended a ladder at the back of the cozy room, his feet visible first, then the rest of him followed out of the loft. Tayg’s fears gripped him. He was caught.

Auld Gair, who had fought with Tayg and Robbie for the Bruce, jumped off the last rung of the ladder and turned to the newcomers.

“John,” Gair said, “we’d thought you lost in the storm!” He strode across the room and caught the friar up in a huge hug.

Tayg squared his shoulders and prepared himself. Any moment now, Gair would notice him and expose him for who he truly was. He could not lie to Gair; indeed, the man would help him get to the king, but Catriona would not understand. She would see only that he had lied to her, betrayed her, used her, for she would understand, once the missive’s true meaning was revealed, why he took her to the king. She was too smart not to. And he desperately didn’t want to hurt her. He needed time to explain everything to her. But he would not have the time.

Gair and Friar John slapped each other on the back and traded fond insults for several minutes while Tayg felt sweat run down his back as he waited for the inevitable. Cat stood silently next to him, unaware of how much she would hate him in another moment or two. He squeezed her hand. She startled, then gave him a tentative smile, but he did not have time to wonder why.

“Let me introduce my young friends.” The friar’s booming voice jerked his attention away from Cat and back to the problem at hand.

“Ah, they are a bonny pair,” Lina said. “We shall be very happy to host them on this their wedding night.”

A grin spread on Gair’s face, and Tayg couldn’t help but return it.

“Wait a moment, I know this whelp.” Auld Gair pushed past his cousin and grabbed Tayg by the shoulders. “I thought you were still with the Bruce, but here you are with this lovely lass. Your wife, I hear.” He smiled at Cat. “Ho, ho! His wife.” Gair did a little hop and rubbed his hands together. “I wonder who won the wager, me lad. ’Twas said you’d never be able to choose but one lass, and yet you have chosen very well indeed. She is a pretty thing and no doubt took a bit of wooing from you.”

He clapped Tayg on the back, but Tayg could think of nothing to say.

“What?” Gair said to his wife, who was standing, her hands, one still gripping the ladle, fisted on her ample hips and a look of extreme irritation on her face.

“You and the lad can trade stories later. For now they are cold and wet and there are horses to see to. Come, lass, what was your name?”

“Cat,” Tayg said. “Her name is Cat. Perhaps you could find her a warm spot near the fire while Gair and I take care of the horses?” He had to get the man aside quickly. He had not given him away yet, and Tayg thanked the heavens for this small reprieve, but ’twould not take long for Cat or the curious friar to start asking questions about how the two knew each other. If he could manage it, he would have Gair be silent on the answers, at least until he could explain it all to Cat.

O
NE OF THE
children led Cat to a stool near the fire while Lina returned to stirring her cauldron, turning a spit with several roasting birds on it as she passed.

The heat was so intense after the biting cold of their day’s journey that it almost hurt to breathe, and Catriona could feel the cold sink deeper into her bones as if it sought to hide from the warmth.

Cat settled herself on the stool, and someone pressed a mug of ale into her hand. Lina and the children seemed to be content to let her sit silently while they continued with the meal preparations and Cat found herself glad, for she had much to consider from the last short while, Tayg’s quiet question being foremost in her mind.

“Would it be so horrible?” he had asked. She thought over the day’s journey spent mostly riding behind Tayg, the horse’s movements rocking her against the man’s broad back. The occasional misstep causing her to tighten her grip about his lean waist. The cold enticing her to snuggle up against him, taking what warmth she could. She had struggled all day to keep from remembering the way he had made her body hum and the world go away that night in the traveler’s hut.

Would it be such a terrible fate to be married to Tayg the Bard instead of some unknown man? Aye, it would. Forever traveling. No home of her own. How would they manage children? That thought brought her back to the memories of his kisses and caresses, the way he made her burn for his touches. She had an idea that certain parts of being wed to the bard would be quite pleasant…but that was impossible.

She must wed someone who would live at Assynt, someone who Broc would at least allow to counsel him. It was different from what she had set out to do, and yet, essentially it was the same. She must complete her task. A part of her shuddered at the word “task.” Marriage should not be a task, it should be a blessing, a wonder, a bond. But she could not indulge in such soft dreams. She had set out to save her clan from the rash behavior of her brothers, and marrying the bard would never do that.

She needed to know how she was going to stay away from him this night.

Physical distance with a fire between them was all that had prevented her from throwing herself in his arms while they were at the hut. There must be a way to keep him away tonight too.

His quiet question slipped back into her thoughts. Would it be such a horrible fate to marry Tayg the Bard? For her clan, aye, but for herself…

“From the smile on your lips I’m guessing you are contemplating your wedding night, eh, lass?” Lina said. “Never you worry, there’s a fine bed above in the loft where many of these weans were conceived.” She winked. “’Tis a lucky bed, that.”

Catriona felt her skin heat, and her immediate problem returned to her thoughts. Their hosts thought them newlyweds, though the man, Gair, appeared to know Tayg and did not expect to see him with a wife. She thought back to the brief introductions. The man had known Tayg though Tayg had been tense at the meeting and unusually silent. He’d squeezed her hand ’til it hurt, yet she had the distinct feeling ’twas not to keep her silent. And he had hustled the fellow out to the stable quickly.

The fog in her mind caused by the sudden change from cold to heat cleared.

What did the man know about Tayg that made the bard so nervous? For that matter, he had been nervous when they met the friar too. She looked about and found the man in question sitting upon the floor with a wee lass settled in his lap and a lad not much older than the lass leaning over his shoulder. The three were deep in conversation, broken now and again by wild giggling from the weans.

Tayg had used his trade, declaring himself a bard quickly when the man seemed to recognize his name. Surely his pride in his profession did not reach so far. Nay, there was something these two men, the friar and his cousin, knew of Tayg, and no doubt the bard was securing the silence of Gair, who knew him from his time with the Bruce, which raised still other questions…but she had no time for that now. She would know what these men knew of her companion, for to be kept in ignorance was dangerous, and now was her time to discover it. She rose and placed her cup on the hearth.

“I will go and help Tayg.” She said the name loud enough for the friar to hear, but he did not react.

“Och, lass, I know you are newly married, but he will return soon.”

At first Cat didn’t understand what Lina meant.

“Ye’ll have plenty of time with him—let him and my husband trade their stories alone for a few moments. There will be less of them we have to listen to later that way.” But the grin on her face belied the tone of her voice, and Cat realized the woman thought she missed her new husband. Very well, ’twould serve her purposes to act the lovesick wench and ’twas obviously expected. She cast her gaze down and tried to give a nervous giggle.

“I do not like him long from my side,” she said to Lina. “I know ’tis silly, but ’tis the truth.”

“Aye, lass. The stable is around the back of the cottage. Just follow the walls around and tell Gair I need him to fetch more peats.”

Catriona clutched her cloak to her and quickly left the cheery warmth for the dark cold of the night.

T
AYG AND
G
AIR
trudged out into the cold and gathered the horses. Two nearly grown lads helped carry in the travel bags, but Gair managed to send them back in the cottage quickly. He grabbed the friar’s horse by the reins and led the way around the side of the cottage to the byre attached to the back wall. Inside was quiet and smelled of warm animals and clean straw. They worked in silence for a few moments, taking the tack off the horses and rubbing the tired animals down.

“Well, lad, ye dinna seem too pleased to see auld Gair.”

Tayg looked up at the older man and realized he was not so old as he remembered. Gair was just past his prime, but not yet old and feeble. And the glint in his eye told Tayg that the man was still plenty sharp in the mind.

“’Tis very pleased I am to see you, Gair. ’Tis only that…”

“’Tis only that you thought to keep yer bonny wife a secret a bit longer, eh? I have heard the tale from Duncan that yer mum wishes ye wed and that ye went searching for a lass on yer own. ’Twould appear yer search went well.” Gair leered at Tayg, and he found himself blushing.

“Aye, she is—”

“Ye need not worry about this night, lad. I ken ye’ve a fine way with the lasses, but I’ll say naught more about it. ’Tis yer wedding night, and there is no sense in starting off yer married life with tales of other lasses. I have not lived with Lina all these years and not learned a wee bit about what a woman wants to hear and what she doesn’t.”

“Yes, but—”

“’Tis proud of you I am, Tayg. Stepping into Robbie’s place, taking up his responsibilities when ’twas clear you had no desire to. In the time ye fought for the Bruce I watched ye grow from a wee whelp along for a grand adventure with yer brother to a man who could lead men into battle and out again. I only hope ye have chosen a lass who is worthy of ye and all that ye will be in the future.”

Tayg swallowed an odd lump in his throat, overwhelmed at the unexpected praise. He wanted to tell him ’twas not all true, but the man’s pleasure was too strong. And if he were honest with himself, he wished it to be the truth too much. But the truth was dangerous.

Truth would force Catriona to marry him, though she would not be happy about it. If they could find some way to make her feel her clan was in safe hands, then maybe she would accept her fate. But she might never come to trust him again.

And he didn’t want to lose that trust, though it was inevitable. Eventually she must find out who he really was and what his errand to the king was for. If Broc was implicated, would she be satisfied with another brother in his place, leading the clan? Would another brother be any better?

A sudden understanding and resolve formed within him. Gair was right, he was no longer Robbie’s shadow, following him about and doing his bidding. He was his own man, capable and proven in battle. He desired Cat and she desired him, though she fought herself over it. She had said she wished to marry him, though she did not know it was he she spoke of. He would make it the truth. He would wed the lass, thus solving his problem and hers. Her clan would be allied to his, and through that connection they would be allied to the king. Even if they did not declare themselves for the king, they would not be bound to the MacDonells; Broc would surely be ousted as the next chief, and perhaps he could arrange some sort of advisor for her other brothers so such things would not happen in the future.

But first he must ensure that she learned all this from him, not from Gair, nor from the friar, for he now knew why the friar seemed to know him. Gair was one for tales around a fire at night. The
seanachean
were not the only ones to spread tales.

“Gair, I need your help,” he said at last.

“I will see you have privacy this night.”

“Nay. Aye. But that is not what I wish to ask you.”

Gair shot Tayg a curious glance over the horses’ backs.

“The lass does not know who I am. She thinks me a simple bard, and I would not have her find out the truth from anyone but me.”

Gair stood perfectly still, his eyebrows drawn down. “She does not know who you are?”

“Nay. I did not wish to wed a lass who thought only to marry a man of heroic tales.” Gair nodded. “I have traveled as a bard on the king’s business, and for that reason, too, I would keep my true identity hidden a while longer.”

“The king’s business?”

“Aye, and here again your help is needed.”

Tayg quickly filled Gair in on the plot against the king, though he said nothing about Cat’s part in it. Some things did not need to be revealed.

G
AIR FINISHED WITH
the friar’s horse just as Cat entered the stable. “I see ye could not stay away from Tayg here any longer.” He grinned at Cat and she, much to Tayg’s surprise, grinned back at him.

“’Tis true,” she said, moving to Tayg’s side and placing a hand lightly on his arm. “I did not wish to be parted from my new husband even for such a brief time.”

Tayg started to laugh but stopped abruptly when she stood on his foot just hard enough to remind him of the pain she could cause. She was up to something. The thought made the hairs stand up on his neck.

Gair moved toward the doorway. “I’ll leave you two alone for a moment.” He winked at them. “I’m sure Lina needs something.”

“She does,” Cat said. “Peats. She bade me have you bring more peats.”

“You see, Tayg, it does not take long before you and she will know the other so well as Lina and I do. Do not tarry long in the cold, lad.” With another cheeky grin he left the byre.

“What are you planning?” Cat asked from right beside him.

“The only plan I have is to have a warm meal and share a warm bed with my new wife,” he said.

“There will be no sharing of a bed.”

“Nay? And yet these fine folk believe we are newly wed, thanks to you.”

“I told you, ’twas not done a-purpose.”

“And yet it is done, and we must act the part else someone may suspect that we do not tell the truth. Would you have them learn who you really are and that you travel with a bard unattended?”

Panic flitted across her face, then the familiar determination took over. Her chin notched up slightly.

“We will leave now,” she said, moving to where he had only minutes before placed the saddle.

“Nay.” He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “We will not leave.”

She was mere inches from him, her hands on her hips. “If we stay, we chance being found out. ’Tis clear Gair knows you, and the friar too. ’Tis equally clear you are not the type they ever expected to take a wife. They will become suspicious if we do not act the part convincingly enough. We will not fool them.”

“You cannot act the part?” he asked, knowing he could all too convincingly.

“I can, but I do not think ’tis a good idea.”

She was right. He was having a hard enough time not touching her, not kissing her, not…right now. But something in him pushed. He needed to know if she wanted him as intensely as he wanted her.