The Eternal Highlander (17 page)

“Hmmm,” Ewan murmured as the servants finally finished arranging the food and moved off. “I see bannocks and crowdie…and berries of course. Oh look, she made black buns and Atholl Brose too. Mmmm.” He grinned at Eva. “And she made enough for us all.”

“Course I did!”

That snapped comment made Eva glance over her shoulder at the robust woman now approaching the table.

“Think I didn’t know you’d be sniffing around the table, Ewan MacAdie? Yer a man ruled by yer appetites like every MacAdie around and before ye.” She sniffed at the man, then turned to Eva, her expression turning into a welcoming smile. “Hello, m’lady. I’m Effie, cook here and this is me welcome to MacAdie fer ye. I’m hoping ye live a long and happy life with us.”

“Thank you, Effie.” She smiled at the cook. “This all looks lovely.”

The woman smiled and nodded and glanced over the table. “I usually serve jest the bannocks and crowdie—or some other cheese—to break fast, and fruit too if ye’ve a taste,” the woman informed her.

Eva glanced at the dishes the woman had gestured to as she spoke. The bannocks were simple oatcakes, the crowdie appeared to be a white cheese rolled in oats. The fruit on the table was all berries; raspberries, strawberries, tayber-ries, and brambles.

“But this morning I made the black buns and Atholl Brose special fer ye, as Ewan pointed out,” she added heavily, then explained, “The black bun is a rich fruit cake with raisins, currants, and fine-chopped peel and such in it. Atholl Brose is a lovely pudding of oatmeal, honey, cream, and whiskey. I hope ye’ll be enjoying them both.”

“I’m sure I will,” Eva assured her and wasn’t just being polite. Her mouth was watering from the smells around her. The black buns and pudding and indeed the bannocks were all obviously freshly made. She flushed with embarrassment as her stomach growled, but Effie merely laughed and began to dish food into the trencher before Eva.

“Here ye are then, lassie. No need to wait. Yer stomach’s wantin’ filling.”

Eva could have hugged the woman when the cook piled more food on the trencher in front of her than she ever would have dared to put on it herself. Guilty as she had always been made to feel for being a burden to her brother, Eva had always ate sparingly, and had always felt hungry for it. But Effie had no such qualms to restrain her and heaped the food on until Eva wanted to moan with pleasure.

“There we are then, and I’ll be expectin’ ye tae eat all of that so’s ye don’t insult me cookin’. We need to put some meat on those fine bones of yers,” she announced. “Now, I’m back to the kitchens. I’ve lots to do ere the nooning repast.”

“Thank you,” Eva called after her, then turned back to survey her trencher with anticipation. Where to start?

It was a question that repeated itself in her head some time later as Eva tried to decide what to do next. She had enjoyed a lovely discussion with Ailie and Ewan while eating the fine fare the cook, Effie, had presented for her. Eva had eaten every last bite of her meal, and was now almost sorry she had. Her stomach felt ready to explode. Reprimanding herself never to be so greedy again, she’d stayed at table talking to Ailie and Ewan about desultory subjects until her discomfort eased.

Eva had learned that, not only did she now have Ailie and Ewan as her new brother and sister-in-law, she also had two nieces and a nephew. She had rather hoped that they would be sweet young children she could spoil and rock on her knee, but Ailie had quickly corrected her in that. The couple’s children were grown, with the son the oldest, having seen twenty-five years. One of the daughters had a daughter of her own. That child was young enough to spoil and rock on her knee at least, Eva supposed, and readjusted her idea of the woman’s age in her mind. She had thought Ewan had seen forty summers and Ailie must be close behind. Now she suspected they were a touch older than that and had just aged well. Either that or Ewan had married Ailie right out of the cradle. That made Eva wonder just how old her husband was. Was Ailie the older of the two? Or was her husband close to fifty summers?

It wasn’t unusual for girls to be married to older men, and a husband twenty years the bride’s senior could be common, but thirty years or more was a bit much. Unwilling to think about that, Eva had tried to steer the conversation toward her husband and where he might be, but Ailie and Ewan had seemed resistant to her attempts. All Ewan had said about her husband was that he was away for the day, but should return around supper. Despite that, Eva had found her eyes darting to the keep door every time it had opened to admit someone, some part of her hoping and at the same time dreading, that he would change his plans and suddenly appear to welcome her as his sister, his mother, and even his cook already had. But it never happened. It seemed her husband wasn’t troubled about making her feel welcome.

Eva found that a bit alarming. His willingness to pay a dower to claim her was at odds with the way he was now seeming to ignore her very presence. She tried to reassure herself that he was the laird here, and therefore busy and she could hardly expect him to bring everything to a halt for her. But Eva still found herself a bit disappointed. She was also a bit concerned. Perhaps he had seen the party arrive and caught a glimpse of her where she had not been able to see anyone else. He could have been on the wall as they rode in and rushed down to greet them. If that were the case, perhaps he had been disappointed in her looks and suddenly sorry about the bargain he had made.

That was an alarming thought. While Eva had been a tad distressed by suddenly finding herself bought to bride and dragged off to the wilds of Scotland, now that she was here, it wasn’t so bad. Everyone, bar her husband, had been very kind and welcoming and Eva was starting to see that life here might be pleasant, she could even be happy. Besides, being sent home in shame, rejected by the man who had saved her from the abbey, was a consequence too horrifying to contemplate.

It seemed to Eva that it was in her best interests to prove her worth to her husband. Certainly she wasn’t the prettiest girl in England—or Scotland for that matter—so her value had to be proven in more concrete ways. She had to prove her usefulness, Eva had decided. The fact that proving her usefulness had never secured her spot at Caxton was not one she allowed herself to ponder. It was too disheartening. Instead, once Ailie had excused herself to go visit with her daughter, and Ewan had removed himself to oversee the keep as first while her husband was away, Eva had sat at the trestle table as the servants cleared things away and tried to think what she could do.

Inspiration had struck just as the last of the things were cleared away and Eva popped up from her seat with excitement. She needed to find Glynis; she would need help with this endeavor.

Connall found Ewan waiting for him when he stepped out of the secret room where he slept during the daylight hours. That in itself was a bad sign as Ewan would usually have been at the trestle table enjoying his supper at this hour. The fact that he wasn’t suggested there was a problem.

“What’s happened?” he asked abruptly as he let the stone door slide closed behind him. “Has there been another attack?”

“Nay,” Ewan assured him quickly. “Nay, nothing so serious.”

“Then why are ye here?”

“Weell, there is a matter I wished tae speak with ye aboot. Just a small matter really,” he added when Connall began to frown.

“A small matter that has ye waitin’ at the passage fer me to rise?” he asked doubtfully.

“Weell.” Ewan hesitated, then said, “Tis aboot yer wife.”

Connall’s eyebrows rose in surprise, then lowered with displeasure. “Has something happened to the lass?”

“Nay.” Ewan frowned. “Nought has happened to her.”

“Then what is it, mon?” Connall was becoming impatient.

“She…er…Tisn’t what’s happened to her, ’tis what she’s done, Connall,” he said finally.

“Well, spit it oot, maun. What has she done?”

“She
what?
”

Ewan winced at that roar and all his own worry and anger at Eva’s actions that day washed away under sudden pity for her. Connall wasn’t happy and he knew from experience that the man could be unpleasant when angry. Where he had been outraged himself earlier and upset on Aileen’s behalf, Ewan suddenly found himself trying to minimize the matter. “Weell noo, Connall, her intentions were good. She just didnae understand the damage she could do. Anywhere else, her efforts to brighten the great hall wouldnae ha’e been a problem.”

Connall waved his excuses away. “Is Aileen all right?”

“Aye.” Ewan shifted, some of his earlier upset returning at the reminder of how Aileen could have been harmed by Eva’s efforts. “Aye. She saw what Eva was doing from the stairs and sent a servant to fetch me while she went back to our room.”

“Hmm.” Connall looked a little less upset, but was still displeased. “Where’s me wife now?”

“She was sat at table still when I came tae meet ye,” Ewan answered, following Connall as he headed for the stairs.

“If a servant fetched ye, why’d ye no tell her to put them back up?”

“I did try to tell her that removing the furs from the windows and arrow slits in the great hall wasn’t a good idea, but she was sure ye’d be pleased, and insisted on yer seeing it first and making the final decision,” he said with remembered vexation. Ewan wasn’t used to such flouting of his authority. As first, he was in charge when Connall wasn’t available and everyone listened to him. Except Eva, it would seem.

Connall grunted and started down the stairs, but Ewan paused at the top of them, suddenly reluctant to be a witness to the upbraiding his new mistress was about to get, and was now almost sorry that he hadn’t found a milder way of telling Connall instead of blurting it all out in high dudgeon as he had. In excusing the lass’ behavior to her husband he had managed to get past his own anger enough to see that she hadn’t really done anything so awful. In any other keep, her attempts to brighten the great hall would have been perfectly normal and perhaps even appreciated. Here it was not, but they could hardly expect her to know that.

After a hesitation, Ewan turned toward the chamber he shared with his wife and went that way instead.

“Is Connall verra angry?” Aileen asked as he entered.

“I thought ye’d still be at table,” Ewan muttered as he closed the door.

“I didn’t wish to embarrass Eva further by witnessing her upset when Connall reacts to the great hall with anger rather than the pleasure she had hoped fer,” Aileen said quietly. “She was only trying to make a place fer herself and fit in.”

“Aye.” Ewan sighed as he sank into the chair opposite hers by the fire. “I wish ye’d pointed that out to me before I went to speak to Connall.”

Aileen smiled at her husband. “I knew ye’d see that fer yersel’ eventually, but wouldnae listen while ye were in such a temper. There’s no talking to ye when ye’re in a temper, my love. Much like Connall.”

Ewan scowled at the comment. He could agree that Connall had a temper, yet here was his wife claiming he had one too, and he supposed, if he were to be honest, he would admit that he did.

“I hope he isnae too hard on her.”

“Aye,” Ewan agreed, but knew that he had rather wound up the man with his own upset, greeting him with it the moment he arose as he had. Sighing, he heaved himself to his feet. “I’d best go be sure he doesnae overdo it.”

Aileen smiled and stood to kiss him on the cheek. “Remind him she was only tryin’ to find a way to please her new husband.”

“Aye.” Ewan brushed her cheek with the back of one hand, marveling that he loved her as much today, if not more, than he had when he’d tackled Connall and asked to have her for his wife thirty years ago, then he turned and left the room.

The great hall was nearly empty when Ewan started down the stairs. This was unusual, on a normal night the tables would still be filled with people talking loudly as they finished their meals. It seemed Aileen wasn’t the only one who had made a discreet withdrawal, he thought as he spotted Eva’s lone figure at the table. She appeared a very small and lonely figure to him. Connall was crossing the great hall and just approaching her now.

Ewan started down the stairs, only then noting the men standing by the fire watching their laird approach his new bride. It was Donaidh, Geordan, Domhall, Ragnall, and Keddy, all the men who had ridden with him to collect her, and he descended the stairs to join them. He would watch from there and intervene only if necessary.

Eva picked nervously at the joint of chicken in her trencher. She had worked hard this afternoon and was exhausted and should have been starving too, but found herself attacked by a case of nerves instead as her gaze slid unhappily around the empty tables. She was beginning to get the feeling that her brilliant plan of that morning wasn’t perhaps as brilliant as she’d thought. The reaction to her removing the furs from the windows and arrow slits to allow some proper sunlight in to brighten the place had not gone over well with anyone so far. Not even Glynis, and Eva had rather counted on the maid’s support and encouragement, but instead the girl had tried to dissuade her. Unfortunately, Eva could be bullish when she had an idea, and—positive that her husband would like and appreciate her efforts—she had insisted on marching ahead with her plans.

Grimacing, she tugged the sleeve of her gown up and turned her arm over to examine the bruised and swollen forearm. Eva supposed that—had Glynis been at least a little more encouraging—she would have attempted to enlist the aid of a couple of male servants to aid in the endeavor, but fearing more resistance, she’d opted to do the chore herself, and had nearly managed to kill herself into the bargain. Grimacing, she tugged the sleeve of her gown up and turned her arm over to examine her forearm. She’d nearly tumbled from the small ancient and rickety balcony that ran the length of the row of arrow slits when Ewan had come stomping into the great hall demanding to know what in God’s name she thought she was doing. She’d stopped her fall by catching her arm on the rail, but then had been so irritated at the unnecessary accident—the man hadn’t needed to startle her so with his bellowing and stomping about—that she had refused to undo all the work she had done and had insisted on waiting for Connall’s pronouncement on the matter.

Now she was beginning to wish she had simply put the furs back up and forgotten the entire thing. The reaction of every last servant and soldier in the castle had not been encouraging. They had filed in for their meal this evening, all going quiet as they had spied the last rays of sunlight stabbing through the now uncovered windows, then had sat whispering amongst themselves until the last rays had died. Moments later, they had risen as one and hurriedly filed out.

Now Eva sat alone at table, wondering if her husband would bother to make an appearance. The man had been absent all day, “about his business” as Ewan had claimed and had yet to show himself. Eva had hoped to have a word with Aileen before she saw Connall, or at least before Connall saw her changes. She had been hoping for a bit of encouragement she supposed, some reassurance that Connall would indeed approve of the changes and appreciate her efforts. Unfortunately, her new sister-in-law hadn’t come down since that morning and Eva was starting to fear that wasn’t a good sign at all.

“Wife.”

If she was slow to respond to that address, it was quite simply because it took a moment for Eva’s distracted mind to recognize that she was the one being addressed. Not that she’d forgotten that she was married now and had a husband, but she hadn’t considered that this meant that she was now a wife.

“Wife.”

Eva turned slowly, her eyes moving with trepidation to the speaker, then she blinked in surprise. She had worried about her husband; who he might be, what he might look like, how old he must be and so on, but the man standing before her was nothing like she’d expected. She’d decided after meeting Aileen that he must be older, at least having seen forty-five to fifty summers, and she had worried about other things, such as what if he was unattractive to her? What if he had gone to fat at his advanced age or had bushels of unattractive grey facial hair? But this man was nothing like she’d expected; his hair was a midnight black as Aileen’s was and he had the same deep brown eyes, but there the similarities ended. This man was no more than twenty-five or thirty years old and he was strong and well built with a flat stomach and wide shoulders. There was another fact, however, that was more surprising to Eva.

“We have met, my lord,” she blurted.

Connall MacAdie seemed to be thrown off track by her words, and the grim, stern set to his features faltered briefly. He hesitated, then nodded. “Aye. At court.”

“You spoke to me in the gardens,” Eva remembered, smiling at the memory. She had fled there after dinner to escape the whispers and laughter about her plain, outdated dress. This man—Connall MacAdie she realized now, though she hadn’t known his name at the time—had come across her out there. “You were very kind to me.”

Her words seemed to make the man uncomfortable, and Eva supposed that men—warriors like the MacAdie laird was reputed to be—were discomfited to admit to a softer side. After a hesitation, he settled on the trestle table bench beside her and seemed to pause to gather himself. Eva smiled at him brightly, relief and pleasure glowing on her face as she awaited whatever he was gathering himself to say. She was so glad—grateful even—that he was the man who had bartered for her. That fact was washing all her worries and fears away, for surely his kindness in the gardens was a sign that he would be equally kind in marriage. And he was handsome too. Eva was suddenly positive that she was the luckiest girl in the world at that moment.

“Ye—” he began, but paused as he glanced up and caught her expression. His gaze narrowed. “Why are ye lookin’ at me like that?”

“Like what, my lord?” she asked with a beaming smile.

“Yer all smiling and happy looking.”

“I
am
happy,” she admitted. “I never knew your name you see, we did not introduce ourselves in the gardens, so I had no idea that you were the MacAdie, the lord I was married to and I was ever so worried that we might not suit. But now I know ’tis you…” She smiled brilliantly. “I just know everything will be all right.”

Connall looked taken aback at her words, and Eva knew she was embarrassing him, but just had to tell him, “I worried that you would be old or fat and I would not find you attractive, but you are ever so handsome. Any girl would be pleased to claim you as husband. And ere I got here I worried that you might be mean or bad tempered, but you were so kind in the gardens at court, distracting me from my worries and embarrassment…Well, I just know I needn’t worry about your being cruel. My sweet mama in heaven must have sent you to me to save me from the abbey. I am ever so lucky.”

Connall simply stared at her, a blank look on his face. Eva waited a moment, but when he continued to stare at her as if at a loss, she cleared her throat and glanced around in search of something to talk about until he regained himself. And of course, her gaze landed on the now-uncovered windows and arrow slits. “I hope you do not mind,” she began tentatively, then paused to clear her throat before nervously admitting, “In fact, I was hoping you would be pleased, but I—Well, I am new here of course, and wanted to do something to please you, something to prove my value, perhaps and…Well, I noticed that it was so dark and dreary in here with all the windows and arrow slits covered, so I set about removing the furs to allow some sunlight in during the day. It is night now, so you cannot see, but it is ever so much brighter without them.” Eva glanced at him, pleased to see that the blank expression was slipping from his face. She was a little less pleased, however, to notice the grimness that now descended in its place. Alarm coursed through her. “Do you not like it?”

“Hmm.” He seemed to be battling within himself over something, then he cleared his throat. “Tis no that I doona like it,” he said slowly, though Eva was pretty sure that was an out-and-out lie since his expression rather said he didn’t like it at all. “But the furs shall all have to be rehung tonight.”

“You do not like it,” she realized with disappointment. “I felt sure—Tis so much brighter with them down during the day.”

“Do ye no think that had I wanted the furs down, I’d have ordered it done meself long ago?”

Eva blinked at that comment. In truth, that hadn’t occurred to her, but it should have, she supposed. Her gaze slid to the windows again. Really, it was so much brighter without the furs during the day…which he hadn’t seen, she reminded herself, and said, “Perhaps if you saw them during the daylight, tomorrow morn, mayhap? If you still did not like it then, I could—”

“I’ll no see it,” he said firmly. “The furs shall be returned at once.”

“But—”

“And in future, ye’ll check with meself or Ewan ere making any further changes.” He stood abruptly then, signifying that the subject was now closed. “I’ve things to do and ye’ll no doubt be abed ere I return, so I’ll bid ye good night and wish ye good sleep.”

Eva stared after him in amazement as Connall MacAdie marched to the keep doors and out. He hadn’t even stopped to eat, and what had he meant that he would see her on the morrow? Was he not going to come to her bed to consummate their marriage that night? She had wondered if he had joined her in the chamber last night and she had merely slept through his arrival and departure, but now she realized that this was not the case. He had not slept alongside her, forgoing consummating the wedding to allow her some much needed rest after her long journey, he obviously had not joined her, and had no intention of doing so tonight either.