Cat lifted the bucket from where he’d left it and carried it inside. Tossing her shawl aside, she poured some of the water in the waiting jug on the table and the rest into the waiting cauldron in the hearth. She moved about the room, gathering together the ingredients for the stew she would make for their evening meal, trying all the time to ignore the feelings that pulsed within her. Once the meat and vegetables were in the pot, she tugged off her kerchief and laughed.
Boredom must have driven him to flirt with her at the well. Boredom plain and simple. For, truly, what other reason could explain it? She was older than he was—almost six years stood between them if she had heard correctly. She was married to one of his father’s men. And, no matter if her body trembled and her skin and blood seemed on fire from his attentions, she was an honourable woman who took her promised vows seriously.
Cat laughed again and shook her head, deciding to just accept that it was the nonsensical flirtation of a young man with nothing better to do. Gowan was away and would return on the morrow, but she still had to prepare a meal for his son, Munro.
* * *
She carried out her daily chores and enjoyed a quiet meal at day’s end. It wasn’t until she lay on her pallet waiting for sleep to take its hold that she allowed herself to enjoy the impossible attentions of a younger man that would come to nothing more than the few minutes of excitement it had been.
Her life was not harder than most others who lived in Lairig Dubh. Gowan had offered her marriage and that had taken her from the terrible circumstances of her early years and given her an honourable place. He did not require much of her and she did not begrudge him anything he wanted from her. Being ten years older than her, he did not expect more children and he’d also long since stopped seeking her bed. With a son raised and part of the laird’s warriors, Gowan was a simple man who made few demands on her.
So, the playful flirting of one young man meant nothing, but it had made her smile. And she felt a pang of bittersweet loss, too, for it reminded her of the subtle joys of courting that she’d missed in her life. As she drifted off to sleep, it was not her husband’s face that filled her dreams, but that of Aidan MacLerie.
* * *
Yet those dreams were so heated and so filled with passionate bedplay that guilt filled her as she heard Gowan’s voice call out as he approached their cottage the next day. How could such a small, innocent encounter affect her so much?
Gowan’s return brought her normal life back and, over the next sennight, she could almost forget the way the earl’s son had looked at this soldier’s wife.
Almost.
Chapter Two
‘What do you think of this, Aidan?’
He’d long ago given the report of the results of his latest assignment to those here, so Aidan’s thoughts had drifted from whatever was the matter at hand to the lush figure of the woman he desired most. Glancing around at the clan elders and his father’s other counsellors, he had no intention of revealing his thoughts, though if he stood now the matter would be quite clear to everyone there.
Aidan tried to remember what the discussion had been when he caught Rurik’s eye. His father’s most loyal friend and the leader of all his warriors gave him a knowing wink. Also his godfather, Rurik knew of Aidan’s love of the fairer sex and Aidan had sought his advice several times when asking his father would have been too difficult or embarrassing. Rurik took it in his stride and, apparently, kept his eye on Aidan’s activities. Finally remembering the last topic, he looked at his father.
‘I think you should gather the newer soldiers together in one place and let some of the experienced commanders train them,’ he said, hoping his suggestion sounded like a reasonable one.
His father raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Tempted to say something, anything, to break the silence, he knew better than that. Connor MacLerie would consider his words and weigh the merits and disadvantages of any plan, whether his first-born son’s or his most trusted advisor’s. Aidan watched as his father met the gazes of one after another of his counsellors and then turned back and spoke to him again.
‘And who should I assign to this task?’ he asked.
Aidan rose then and went to fill his cup before speaking. Several names came to mind—all experienced, capable warriors—and he offered them. ‘Black Rob. Iain. Calum,’ he said.
‘Micheil,’ Rurik offered. ‘And we will need one more to work with the number of new soldiers we have, Connor.’
‘Gowan.’ The name escaped Aidan’s mouth before he truly thought it through, but it was right for so many reasons that he repeated it. ‘Gowan should be there.’
Aidan held his breath, waiting for his father’s decision. This task would take several weeks, if not almost two months, and it would keep Gowan far enough away that he could not interfere with Aidan’s plans for Catriona. It would give him uninterrupted weeks to follow her, weaken any resistance or hesitation she might have and seduce her and make her his. A smile threatened, one which would be hard to explain, so he took a deep swallow of his wine instead.
‘Rurik, what think you of Aidan’s choices?’ his father asked.
Rurik crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. A good sign or bad, Rurik gave no sign of his opinion for several moments. Then, with a nod, he confirmed them.
‘Give the orders and make the arrangements,’ his father said, putting down his cup and nodding to several of the men there.
Aidan held his breath, not daring to believe his luck in this. Within a day, two at the most, Gowan would be gone from Lairig Dubh and he could pursue the fair and lovely Catriona without interference. He watched as the men left and his father remained with Duncan and Rurik. A discussion about several upcoming visits by various noblemen in Scotland who wanted to be in the good graces of the Earl of Douran. It was nothing new for his father or for him—people who valued them only for their name, their connections or the power and influence they wielded.
A short time passed and Aidan listened without interest to who was coming or going, caring not as long as Gowan was gone from Lairig Dubh. Then his father nodded at his closest advisors and they left.
‘Send for Jocelyn, Rurik,’ he called out as the men walked to the steps leading down from this tower chamber.
Aidan took a deep swallow from his cup, now puzzled over what was to come. His father alone would not be of concern, but calling his mother here meant trouble was coming his way. They passed the minute or so of time waiting for her arrival in silence with Aidan fighting the urge to ask the reason. Soon, he could hear his mother’s footsteps approaching the top of the stairs and he rose to greet her.
Being forced to marry the Beast of the Highlands to save her family had brought Jocelyn MacCallum to Lairig Dubh. Capturing the heart of a man most thought did not have one had turned that marriage into a long and happy one. No matter whatever else happened, Aidan knew his father loved his mother with every bit of his heart and soul. It was there every time one glanced at the other, through good times and contentious ones.
Not that he ever expected to find such a thing as they’d found—he was more practical than that. But he did understand that his parents’ marriage and relationship was not the customary one in this time or place.
‘So, why did you summon Mother?’ he finally asked, wanting some kind of hint about the probably discussion ahead.
His father put his cup down and stood, walking over to the door, awaiting his mother’s arrival there.
‘To discuss your upcoming marriage.’
* * *