The Bedeviled Heart (The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series) (14 page)

“Potions, my lady?” Kate repeated, surprised.

Averting her gaze, Lady Elsa explained with a demure smile, “Love potions.”

Kate blinked in dismay. Love potions? Why were all the other women she knew so infatuated with love potions? And before she could stop herself, she blurted, “How could such a bonny lady like ye need a potion?”

Lady Elsa tittered and clamped her hand nervously over her mouth. With cheeks turning a slight pink, she replied, “’Tis an important matter, Kate! I’ve made my decision. I shall have my protector, the earl, as my husband and none other. The man is right handsome and strong, but he does not even look my way. He has yet to speak with me, and I’ve been here days already! These potions will change that.” She pinched the pearlwort and added in a wistful tone, “They
must
change that!”

“Aye, my lady,” Kate replied, striving hard to mute the skepticism in her voice.

“Then, start at once.” She picked up the basket and placed it in Kate’s arms. “I must carry the yarrow with me at all times. The lovage must be eaten, and it would be best if the earl ate it as well.” She twisted her lips in thought, as if wondering how to accomplish that before pointing to the pearlwort. “And boil this, so I may wet my lips with it. All it takes is a kiss, and he will be mine.”

Kate eyed the tiny plants in disbelief.

“And be quick, the earl is not an easy man,” Lady Elsa added, picking up her needlework to sit primly on the edge of the bed. “Off to the kitchens for a pot then, Kate. You can boil the pearlwort here. And keep your lips sealed. I’ll not have the other ladies gossiping about this.”

Dropping another quick curtsey, Kate ran down the stairs as fast as her worn slippers allowed, still astonished that a beautiful lady such as Elsa would find it necessary to resort to potions. But it was a blessedly fortunate event. Aye, she would keep her lips sealed, but she could make extra pearlwort to satisfy Maura’s demands. She had no choice. Surely, it wasn’t a betrayal. Using pearlwort was apparently common enough knowledge in the Borderlands. At least, Lady Elsa spoke of it so. Ach, if only Maura hadn’t forced her into such a predicament. She was whole-heartedly beginning to resent the woman.

Aye, since meeting Cameron, her fortune had improved by the hour. How could the man think himself cursed? Surely, the plague had taken the two wives forced upon him, no doubt, the very same plague that had robbed her of her mother, sister and so many more.

Her heart ached as she recalled the pain in his eyes, but as always, thoughts of Cameron quickly shifted to thoughts of his hard muscles under her fingertips, his chiseled lips, and ardent kisses. Ach, but he made her blood hot. Fanning her reddening cheeks, she placed her hand on the latch of the door leading to the courtyard.

Suddenly, a nasal voice ordered, “Halt, wench!”

Kate whirled to find a tall, long-faced man descending the spiral stair behind her with a deliberately slow step. Finely dressed in yellow velvet, he wore a thick, golden chain about his neck, and his expression was one of outright disdain. He was clearly a nobleman.

With her heart beating rapidly, Kate cast her eyes to the floor and curtsied. “My lord.”

“Rise!” the man ordered harshly. “Let me see your face.”

Holding her breath, Kate lifted her eyes to meet his, unable to suppress a shiver.

Stepping close, he gripped her chin and slowly turned her face from side to side. “Aye, ‘tis clear what the earl sees in ye.”

“My lord?” Kate swallowed.

He studied her face for several, long moments, and then said, “Ye can tell the earl that Thomas knows his weakness now, and that ye’ll be the first one to get hurt if he continues probing into my affairs.” He smiled. It was a cold, hard smile, and he leaned closer to add, “He’ll not want to see ye hurt. He’s not a man to share his affections lightly, don’t ye agree?”

Kate held still. What was the man speaking of? Was he drunk?

“Aye.” Thomas nodded slowly, apparently pleased. “I see the fear in your eyes. ‘Tis good. Be gone with ye now and deliver the message!”

For a moment, Kate hesitated. Should she tell him that she had not understood a word of it? Clearly, he had confused her with someone else. She opened her mouth to point that out, but as his eyes narrowed, she changed her mind and fled out into the courtyard, the door banging shut at her heels.

Drawing her plaid close, she cast several glances over her shoulder, to ensure he had not followed, before making her way to the kitchens.

He must have been drunk.

Aye, he’d mistaken her for another. Now that she worked at the castle, she would probably encounter many such peculiar situations.

“Ach, ‘tis the same as the alehouse!” She laughed outright before quickly subduing her mirth to mutter under her breath, “Drunken nobles are no different than drunken sailors!”

Brushing the matter aside, she secured a pot from the kitchens and hurried back to find an agitated Lady Elsa waiting at the door.

“Make the pearlwort with haste!” she cried, wringing her hands. “And bring me the yarrow. I must speak to the earl at once!”

“What is it, my lady?” Kate asked, concern flooding her face.

“The Earl sent a messenger, instructing me to leave for Inchmurrin on the morrow!” Lady Elsa paced nervously in front of the fire. “A messenger! Why does the earl shun me so?”

“Away?” Kate repeated with a sinking heart. She had only been a maid for a day.

“The yarrow! Tie the roots to my skirts! Oh, leaves would have been better!” Lady Elsa wrung her hands as she stood in the center of the chamber. “Be quick, Kate! I must change the man’s mind!”

Selecting one of the roots and a green satin ribbon, Kate tied the bundle to the hem of Lady Elsa’s fine shift. “What does it do, my lady?” She couldn’t resist asking.

“Yarrow brings love. It will draw him closer to my heart.” Lady Elsa ran to the basket and crushed one of the pearlwort leaves against her lips. “And the pearlwort should be boiled, but mayhap this will serve as well! I’ve naught to lose. Stay here and finish the potion. Be quick!”

Kate eyed the distressed woman with sympathy, watching her flutter around the chamber like a bird before hurrying out the door, intent upon seeking the earl’s company.

Moving to the table, Kate eyed the plants with a bit of disgust.

Ach, she’d never wear roots on her shift or rub leaves on her lips to catch a man! But then she scarcely needed to. With a dreamy expression, she pulled the tender pearlwort leaves from the stems, settling in to think of Cameron once more when the door opened again.

This time, Maura shamelessly entered. “Good evening, Kate.”

Maura was dressed in a red gown and her fair hair tied back with a black velvet ribbon. Her cheeks dimpled in a stiff, little smile, but her eyes were hard as she asked, “I’m sure ye recall my words at our last meeting, Kate?”

With a surge of annoyance, Kate turned back to stripping the stems. “Good evening to ye, Maura.”

“And?” Maura pressed, joining her at the table. “Are ye making my potion? Because I swear if ye aren’t, I’m off straightway to toss your father on the street—”

“’
Tis a pearlwort potion,” Kate interrupted, her anger rising at the woman’s threatening ways. How had she ever been so foolish as to trust her? Ach, she assumed the woman was good-hearted far too fast. She should have listened to her father. He was ever reminding her to think twice.

Maura’s lips formed a pleased smile. Picking up a leaf, she raised a fine brow. “And how is it to be used?”

“Ye have but to kiss the man and he is yours, or so ‘tis said.” Kate frowned. “But I canna promise ye that ‘twill work. I have no knowledge of such things.”

“We’ve already seen it works very well!” Maura’s cold eyes swept her up and down. “But I’ll not foolishly waste it on an outlaw. I’ll have the Earl of Lennox as my lover afore the week is done!”

Kate rolled her eyes. “The Dreaded Earl of Death?”

Moving to the bed, Maura threw herself down upon it with a sensuous, growling sound. “Ye clearly have yet to see the man. He is so tall, and brawny, and his lips beg to be savaged! And his eyes, Kate! Each time he looks at me, I know he’s already undressed me, and—”

“Maura!” Kate interrupted, half in shock and half in displeasure at the wrinkled bedcovers. “Hie ye off the bed! ‘Tis the lady’s and ye’d best not ruin it!”

“Ach, but ye make a fine maid, Kate!” Maura slipped off the bed. “’Tis all ye’ll ever be.”

Kate sent her a disparaging look as she smoothed the coverlet and plumped up the pillows.

“Aye, make sport of me, if ye will!” Maura tossed her head. “But I’ll have a man in my bed who’ll spirit me away from a life as a chambermaid! Aye, he’ll shower me with trinkets and gowns, and muckle more should I bear his bairn!”

“Ach, Maura!” Kate expelled her breath and returned to the table. “A bairn is not a path to riches!”

With a scathing snort, the woman replied, “I dinna want the comfortable, ordered life ye seek, Kate! Even if ye change your outlaw’s ways, at best ye’ll have a boring and sensible life, but more likely ye’ll end up with hungry bairns and no coin after your man is hung on a tree!”

“He’s not that kind of thief!” Kate slammed the pot down and faced Maura with flashing eyes. “He’s a right honorable man!”

“So the wee Kate has a temper? Does she think to stand against me?” The woman smiled coolly before hissing, “How has your father been feeling this fine day?”

Her veiled threat was impossible to misconstrue, and for the first time, Kate felt the icy cold fingers of fear clutch her heart. This woman would not stop at one potion. Aye, she would have to find another place for her father forthwith, but until she could, she would have to keep Maura happy. Forcing a smile, Kate turned back to the potion. “I’ll give this to ye on the morrow. ‘Twill take some time to finish it.”

“Very well.” Maura nodded in satisfaction. “I’ll expect it first thing. I must have it afore Albany’s feast. I’ve switched places with one of the serving maids at the high table where the Earl of Lennox is sure to be. Ye’d best not disappoint me, Kate.”

With that, she turned on her heel and glided out of the room.

Kate twisted her lips in a tight line, a cold pit of fear growing in her stomach. How could she find a new room for her father when she had no coin? She’d given Maura everything she had. And should she remain lucky enough to remain Lady Elsa’s maid for longer than a day, she wouldn’t receive any coin for it for at least a month. The task of keeping Maura happy for a month would likely be an impossible one. She moved about, preparing the pearlwort, fretting, until the door opened and a much calmer Lady Elsa reappeared.

“’
Tis most fortunate that I ran into Thomas Cochrane, Kate,” she said with a relieved smile.

Kate stiffened at the name of
Thomas
, thinking at once of the man dressed in yellow velvet.

“He gave me an immediate audience with the king, and I’ll not be sent away!” Lady Elsa sighed thankfully. “The king insisted that I stay here at Stirling Castle.”

Shaking off her concern, Kate allowed her lips to break into a wide, exuberant smile. Her position was safe! Ach, there were probably a dozen men named Thomas in the castle. “’Tis the most wondrous tidings, my lady!” she said.

“I kissed the king’s hand.” Lady Elsa frowned, taking her seat by the fire. “But I wiped the pearlwort from my lips first. I’m sure I’ve no cause to think that he might fall in love with me.”

“I’m sure there is naught to fear, my lady.” Kate agreed with a lighter heart.

“I shared sweetmeats and oranges with the king, and the earl has left the castle with lord Gray, so I’ve no reason to attend supper this night. And I will be glad to miss it, now that the king’s aunt, Princess Annabella has arrived. The woman is harsh and difficult to please. I’ll not be the one to try her patience this night.” She yawned and then held out her hand. “My needlework, Kate.”

Kate rushed to give her the basket, and then stood at the foot of the bed to watch as Lady Elsa carefully measured lengths of silken thread.

Time passed.

The shadows grew longer.

The occasional cracks of the fire were the only sounds to break the silence as Lady Elsa dreamily pulled her needle through the cloth for what seemed like ages.

It did not take long before Kate had trouble holding still. Ach, she felt like a caged canary! How could the woman endure such a stifling existence? How could she just sit there, stitching, hour after hour? Surely, she did not do this every day!