Page 22 of A Fine Scottish Spell (The Magical Matchmakers of Seven Cairns #2)

“T hey do not have to keep doing that,” Emily said to Inalfi as they crossed the great hall.

It bustled with servants preparing the long rows of trestle tables for the evening meal.

As soon as they came within a few feet of any maid or scullery lad, the servant stopped whatever they were doing and bowed low until Emily acknowledged them.

“I want to learn everyone’s name, but this bowing stuff needs to stop.

It’s just me. It’s not like I’m royalty or anything. ”

Inalfi eyed her in disbelief, then huffed.

“It is not just yerself , m’lady. Ye are the chieftain’s one, his blessed wife, and we have none of us ever seen him so contented.

We wish to serve ye well and honor ye because of that.

” She leaned in close and lowered her voice.

“Mrs. Thistlebran said she thought she saw him smile just the other day. Himself never smiles. Especially not when Queen Nicnevin is here.”

The strongest sense of happy Emily had ever known washed across her.

Others had noticed Gryffe’s contentment, so it had to be real.

That reassured her more than it probably should, but she couldn’t help it, especially since she still struggled with bouts of homesickness for family, friends, and even the conveniences of the world she had left behind.

It relieved her to know his love for her was just as solid as what she felt for him.

This deep connection they shared went both ways, just as it should, even though it was still a little unbelievable.

They had known each other for such a short time, at least as far as this lifetime was concerned.

She almost laughed. How many times had she tossed aside a romance book before finishing it, claiming the insta-love factor was too silly to swallow?

But this feeling was undeniable. She loved Gryffe completely.

From the depths of her soul, she felt as though she had loved him all her life, and all her many past lives too. It was both wonderful and frightening.

“M’lady?” Inalfi cleared her throat, interrupting Emily’s inner dialogue.

“Sorry. I am still trying to wrap my mind around everything that’s happened in such a short time.” She slowly shook her head. “I believed it easily enough when it happened to my friend Jessa, but it’s harder to believe now that it’s me.”

“Love keeps to no timetable, m’lady. It does as it will. Best remember that.”

“It most definitely does.” Emily paused at an archway to the labyrinth of hallways and looked back at the expansive meeting room with its massive twin hearths, weaponry wall, and tapestries of the clan’s more memorable battles hanging from the upper gallery’s bannister.

MacStrath Keep was impressive, but also easy to get lost in with its many levels, hallways, and multiple turrets.

Thankfully, Inalfi didn’t seem to mind coming with her until she learned her way around.

Mrs. Thistlebran charged out of one of the hallways, calling out as she careened around the corner, “Lady Emily! Come quick! Queen Nicnevin swears this is meant for ye.”

“Swears what is meant for me?” Emily caught up her skirts and ran after the plump housekeeper who moved amazingly fast for a lady of her size and years.

“Wait! Mrs. Thistlebran, wait! Tell me what’s going on.

” It couldn’t be good if Gryffe’s mother was at the center of it.

After getting to know Nicnevin better, Emily understood why Gryffe felt the way he did about the Dark Queen.

“She’ll not listen, m’lady,” Inalfi shouted from behind her. “Not when she is in such a stir.”

“This better be a valid stir .” Emily silently cursed the yardage of petticoats and wool skirts that made something as simple as running a lot more difficult than it should be.

But as soon as she chased the housekeeper out into the cold, snowy garden, she was a little more thankful for all the layers.

A line of men armed with spears, swords, and long rifles had something cornered against the farthest stone wall, and whatever it was ripped the air with a loud, feral scream, reminding her of the great wild cats of the jungle documentaries her brothers had always adored.

Nicnevin stood between the men and the animal.

She towered over them, stretching herself to a chilling, neck-breaking height meant to back them up and strike fear into their hearts.

“Leave the beast alone,” she commanded, her voice echoing like thunder.

Then she caught sight of Emily and motioned her forward.

“It is about time. Grimalkin needs ye to convince these fools she means those of this clan no harm. She has only come to serve ye.”

Emily hurried forward, pushing her way through the men.

“What is a Grimalkin?” She came up short as she spotted the fearsome beast. Huddled in the corner of the skirting wall was a tiny black kitten with a patch of white shaped like a diamond on its chest. She turned on the men.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves. You’re scaring that poor little kitten to death. ”

“Poor wee kitten?” One of the guards, whose name she couldn’t remember, sputtered and spat while pointing a spear at the tiny cat.

“If Himself catches us letting that Fae panther stay in the garden, ’twill be all hell to pay for certain.

Step back, m’lady. Please. I beg ye. Ye must be kept safe for the good of the clan. ”

Emily shook her head at the man calling the kitten a panther. It looked barely old enough to be weaned from its mother. “Come here, kitty. I know they’re scary. They don’t mean to be.” She crouched, scooped the tiny feline up, and cuddled it close.

The kitten immediately rewarded her with a song of deep, vibrating purrs.

“Come on,” she told it, thrilled with the little beastie. “Let’s get you something to eat. I bet Cook can spare a saucer of cream or something.”

“Inside the keep, m’lady?” Mrs. Thistlebran seemed oddly horrified as she teetered back a few steps.

Suspicions increasing, Emily turned to Inalfi and then to Nicnevin. “What am I not seeing here? Why is everyone afraid of a harmless little kitten?”

Nicnevin beamed at her, appearing proud as a mother hen. “Why, there is nothing amiss at all, Lady Emily. Grimalkin came all the way from the kingdom to stay at yer side and offer ye her protection. She already loves ye, and her loyalty is unquestionable.”

Not trusting herself to comment on that obvious half-truth, Emily looked to Inalfi. “Care to comment?”

“Perhaps it would be better if Himself explained.” The tiny maid wrinkled her nose as she stepped back with a quick shake of her head.

“What the feckin’ hell has happened here?” Gryffe’s thunderous roar shook the ground. “Where is my Emily? If any harm has come to her, every one of ye will rue the day ye were born!”

The kitten hissed and growled, balling up tighter in the protection of Emily’s arms. “Don’t worry, kitty,” she reassured it. “He’s just a little overprotective.”

The cluster of warriors parted and bowed their heads. Gryffe stormed forward, visibly relaxing, when he saw her. But then his attention settled on the cat, and his expression darkened with a displeased scowl. “My own…my dearest love…do ye ken what ye cradle there in yer arms?”

“A kitten.” She kissed the top of the tiny black cat’s head and was immediately rewarded with louder purring. “Isn’t she sweet? Your mother said her name is Grimalkin. ”

“Sweet?” He cut a hard glare over at Nicnevin. “Explain yerself. Now.”

The Dark Queen held up a finger and wagged it back and forth. “I did not do this. Grimalkin came of her own accord. She insisted she is meant to serve and protect your Lady Emily.”

Gryffe scrubbed his fingers through his beard, scratching along his jawline while scowling up at the heavens. “My love,” he said, turning back to Emily, “what ye believe ye see and hold in yer arms, and what we see and believe is there with ye are two entirely different things.”

She looked into the kitten’s golden eyes. “What is he talking about?”

The little cat squeaked with an adorable kittenish meow, making every warrior in the garden flinch and jerk back another step.

Even more suspicious, Emily turned to Nicnevin. “Drop the illusion.”

Nicnevin twitched a nonchalant shrug. “’Tis not my illusion to drop, my lady. Speak to Grimalkin.”

“Grimalkin?” Emily arched a brow at the cat. “If we’re to be friends, I need to know the truth about you, please.”

The dear little creature leapt from her arms and transformed into a monstrously huge black panther, then head-butted Emily’s skirts in search of a reassuring pat.

Now she understood everyone’s reaction, but was still unable to resist the gorgeous cat. She crouched beside it and pulled it into a hug. “It’s going to be so easy to love you, Grimalkin. You’re my sweetie. No matter what form you take.”

Nicnevin threw back her head and roared with victorious laughter. “It would seem Grimalkin knew all along she would be accepted.”

“Don’t gloat,” Emily told the Dark Fae Queen, making everyone in the garden gasp.

Realizing she might’ve overstepped with the goddess of magic, she softened the advice with a grateful bow of her head.

“But thank you for protecting Grimalkin until I could get outside to meet her. I’ll need you to teach me about her.

What to feed her—things like that. Somehow, I don’t think a saucer of cream will be enough. ”