The Highlanders Bride Read online

  Laurel gasped. “Your mother’s? Cole, I must not. Should we not wait for Conor? I am sure he would not approve.”

  “He would,” he said brusquely.

  Laurel squared her shoulders. “Well, it does not matter. In fact, I have decided that I do not want to stay in the keep at all. How about that cottage of Old Gowan’s?” She knew she was rambling, but all of a sudden she had been right to tell Conor she could not stay at the castle. A strong desire to flee seeped into her bones. How could she remain so close and yet keep distant?

  “Yes, I think I will stay in the cottage. Besides, I know that Conor would not like me staying in your mother’s room.”

  Cole bunched his eyebrows. “It was Conor who gave the order.”

  Just then, an older lady with a genuinely kind expression came up to her. She was fairly short and rotund, and her voice was pleasant and reassuring.

  “Good day, milady. My name is Glynis. The laird asked me to come see to your needs and take you to your room.”

  Still somewhat in shock, Laurel did not argue when Glynis led her across the courtyard and into the keep’s lower hall. It was a large room that was surprisingly bright, with large arch-shaped windows along the northern wall. Fires burning in braziers made the air warm and inviting against the cool afternoon breeze. The noise was incredible. Many of the soldiers had already gathered to eat the evening meal.

  “Sorry, milady, about the mess, the noise, and the stench.” Glynis waved her small, puffy hands disapprovingly at the sight. “The McTiernay clan is a fierce and strong bunch, but since Lady McTiernay passed away so many years ago, the keep has fallen into disarray. Only the laird’s quarters are maintained regularly.”

  Laurel had already noticed the state of the keep, and its stench. The rushes were crushed and decayed. In many places, the wood floor was bare and letting in the cold.

  The high table was at the far end of the room, but Conor was not present, nor were any other principal guests sitting in places of honor. But there were several soldiers sitting at tables placed along the side walls. All were so engrossed in their food and conversations, none had noticed them.

  Laurel watched as servants entered and disappeared through a timber partition screening the hall from the service area. Above the screens was a minstrel’s gallery. Seeing the ale and wine they were carrying, she assumed the area behind the screens was linked to the storage cellars housed below.

  She and Glynis had entered the hall through a separate door and were heading towards another door, which she assumed led to the Star Tower, where the main sleeping chambers were housed. The doorway was large and mirrored the shape of hall’s arched windows.

  As they crossed the portico, Laurel could see a small, empty chamber to the right of the door. She guessed that, if necessary, the small sentry post would be manned to protect access to the spiral stairwell that led to the private family apartments.

  She followed Glynis up the winding staircase to the upper levels. On the fourth level, Glynis stopped and went around a banister to open a door leading into a large and elegant room. It had to be Lady McTiernay’s sitting room. Laurel admired its beauty. The colors were muted golds and greens that seemed to capture the diminishing light entering the room via the three smaller arched windows in the alcove. Conor’s mother’s taste in decor mirrored her own.

  Glynis must have prepared the room before her arrival. The fireplace was already lit, providing an efficient source of heat. Even the thick and heavy stones making up the castle walls had collected the heat from the flames and were warm to the touch.

  “Here you go, milady.” Glynis indicated the clothes on the bed. “The laird mentioned you would be needing new things to wear.” Someone had obviously been instructed to share her garments. The idea made Laurel all the more uncomfortable and intrusive.

  “Glynis, who provided the clothing?”

  “Oh, they were my daughter’s, and she was glad to let you have them. I assure you, milady. We would do anything for our laird. I would have stripped bare for you if he had but asked.”

  The kind words did not bring Laurel comfort.

  “But, Glynis, I do not want to take your daughter’s dresses. They are beautiful and must be her best. I assure you that all I need is a bit of thread to fix my garment and a place to wash it. Until I have the means to make more, what I have will be enough.”

  Glynis was about to argue with Laurel when she saw the look of stubbornness in the lady’s eyes. Glynis smiled inwardly. The lass was proud, stubborn, and her heart was generous to a fault. And since Laurel had spoken to her in the Gaelic tongue, Glynis began to wonder if the girl was part Scottish. She definitely had the looks of a bonnie Scot. Aye, if the rumors were true that Laird McTiernay had finally found a bride, this lass could bring this clan much joy. But was she strong enough? Would she be afraid of the laird? Would she be able to stand the cold winters?

  Glynis shrugged her shoulders and relented. “I’ll fetch you a needle and thread. I will also be sending up a bath and some food to eat. Most of the men have already eaten.” She countered before Laurel could disagree. “Now, no arguing on this one, milady. You need a bath, and it would upset me not to help you with one.”

  Laurel could not refuse the kind woman this one thing. She would agree to the bath and the thread. But once clean, she would return to the empty cottage outside. She would not stay here in the great manor. And she certainly would not stay in the rooms of Conor’s mother.

  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.