Page 4 of Bride of the Wicked Laird (Sparks and Tartans: The MacKinnon Clan’s Romance #11)

CHAPTER FOUR

E verard looked up and caught Davina’s eyes studying him. She turned away, her cheeks burning pink and hurriedly clattered her empty plates into a stack on the table.

He grinned, enjoying her fluster and the hint of admiration flickering in her amber-colored eyes, but reminded himself that that was not the time for flirting, no matter how charming the lass might be. Besides, Davina had been a novice, a nun-in-waiting, who had spent her years in a convent. She would know aught of the ways of men.

He counseled himself to mind his behavior. The lass had been through enough without being burdened with the lusty attentions of a man who should know better.

He filled the tankards with ale and raised a cup. “Tae yer good health, lass. Slàinte mhath .” He took a long draft of the ale, while Davina raised the cup to her lips and sipped.

“Did ye nay have ale tae drink in the nunnery?”

“Oh yes, of course, but each day we were only allowed a small cup, so we sipped tae make it last the longer.”

“While ye’re here, ye may have as much ale as ye wish.”

She chuckled at that, while he smiled at the prospect of her becoming tipsy and bold after too many ales.

“There is a matter I would like tae discuss wi’ ye.”

“Och?” Whatever was coming next?

“If ye are so kind as tae grant me sanctuary, I must work fer me keep.”

He shook his head. Such a thought had never entered his mind. “What work could ye dae, lass? I’ve all the servants I need tending tae the castle.”

“I worked every day in the gardens at Iona. I can tend yer gardens and if ye’ve already a gardener, I can be their assistant. I can help with the herbs. I have learned tae make poultices, healing creams and tisanes. I ken how the herbs can heal. I can sew up a small wound and bandage a broken bone.”

“Heavens.” He drew back he head in surprise. “I thought the nuns only occupied themselves in prayer.”

She gave a small laugh. “Nay. They work hard, cooking, scrubbing, laundering, as well as contemplation and prayer. Me job was tae look tae the garden, growing food, and learning the healing arts.”

“Well then, I shall be happy tae introduce ye tae our healer, Broderick. I’m certain he could dae wi’ some help.”

She nodded, but by now he could see her strength was flagging and the color was fading from her cheeks. After finishing his ale, Everard got to his feet. “I’ll see tae the kitchen tae bring ye something later fer yer supper. Mayhap tomorrow we’ll see tae some new clothing fer ye.”

He left her, smiling prettily and, no doubt, contemplating the garden and the herbs she would harvest. The dusk was upon them and he had much to do before nightfall.

As he traced his steps back to the keep, Davina filled his thoughts. It was clear there was more to her story than she was yet able to reveal. Yet, for all his curiosity and concern, there was no point at all in pushing her further. Mayhap, in time, she would recall more of her history and where she had been intending to flee to after she escaped the convent.

He met with Hugo in his study, where they warmed themselves in front of a fire flaming in the great fireplace.

He poured two drams of whisky and offered one to Hugo as they took their seats.

Hugo spoke first. “What of the lass ye rescued?”

Everard recounted the details of his visit with Davina and her offer to work in the garden.

It was clear however, that her presence did not sit well with his advisor. “That’s all very well me laird, but who is the lass and why was she running from the convent?”

Everard sighed. “I dinnae ken much more than ye. It seems she was being forced tae take vows and she has nae wish tae become a nun. Her memory has yet tae return. When it daes, mayhap she will tell us who she is and where she comes from.”

“And in the meantime?”

“In the meantime, she is our guest and, if she wishes, she may join our healer and tend the garden.”

Hugo huffed. “Has it occurred tae ye that she might bring trouble on our heads? I daresay ye dinnae ken that some clan chief may take it badly if he was content his daughter was with the nuns. Ye ken that many lairds see a daughter taking holy orders as a great blessing and something that could bring great good fortune tae a clan.”

Everard nodded. “I’ve given it some thought. It has occurred tae me that I could travel tae Iona meself and enquire if they are missing a novice. But I’m reluctant tae dae so, as I would then be unwittingly giving away that she is likely at Kiessimul.”

“So ye dae admit there may be trouble following?”

“I was doubtful. But those two ruffians who questioned me before we sailed convinced me that the danger she spoke of was real enough. Two men were pursuing her, there’s nae doubt of it. So, the question comes tae mind: ‘Why would two rough men hunt a wee lass who has fled the convent?’

Hugo gave a reluctant nod. “I see where ye’re going with this. There is something more afoot. We may be bringing trouble tae Kiessimul whether ye like it or nae.”

Everard greeted this remark with a shrug. “Come now, Hugo. Ye’re nae afraid of a little trouble, are ye?”

Hugo’s only response was another huff.

“The MacNeil War Chief, me brother Maxwell, and his wife will be visiting tomorrow. We’ll talk wi’ him about this and obtain his opinion.”

The morning sun was bright despite the chill in the air as Everard descended the stairs from the keep into the courtyard.

He’d considered Hugo’s words before falling asleep and they’d left him with strange dreams of being under the sea, floating, watching the smiling face of a silkie maiden, who wound her dark tresses around him and tugged him into the deep. He’d woken with a start, his thoughts immediately flashing to Davina.

Whatever her story might be, he would find out soon enough. He had no wish to pry into her lost memories. They would return when the time was right. Meanwhile, he was to meet his brother and sister-in-law arriving from their home on the island.

He glanced across the courtyard and glimpsed the little cottage that had been made available for Davina. Hoping he might see her, he was rewarded by a glimpse of her, clad in a fresh kirtle, stooping to pick a snowdrop from the tiny scrap of earth that served as a garden near the front door of the cottage.

She did not notice him, so without wishing to disturb her, he kept on across the courtyard and through the gate. Strangely, his heart had started beating a little faster at the sight of her. She was like a dainty sprite with the morning sunshine bright in her hair as it trailed over her shoulders and down her back.

He hastened on, looking forward to the visit. He’d seen little of Maxwell and Aileen since their wedding three months prior. They were busy with the building of their fine stone house on the Isle of Barra and absorbed in the deep love they had found in each other.

The pair had not long returned from Dunvegan Castle and he wished to hear the news of his sister Raven, her husband Arne, and their new wean, Ulf, a wee boy only months old, brother to their other child, Thorsten.

As Everard reached the spillway, Maxwell was already tying their small sailboat to the mooring. He looked up and a wide grin split his face. Aileen waved from the boat and stepped lightly onto the jetty. It warmed Everard’s heart to see the happiness flowing from these two.

Aileen gave her brother-in-law a warm hug, while Maxwell greeted him with a slap on his back and an energetic shake of his hand.

“Come, let us break our fast in the Great hall. I wish tae hear all the news from Dunvegan.”

“And I wish tae hear all there is tae tell about yer discussions with MacDougall and the MacKinnons when ye were on Mull.”

Everard nodded. There was much more to tell them about that eventful visit to the Isle of Mull.

After they’d broken their fast with lavish helpings of porridge with honey and cream, a dish of fried salmon, followed by flat-bread and raspberry jam, all washed down with warm mead, it was time to speak of his business on Mull.

Maxwell grew thoughtful as Everard related the details of his discussion with MacDougal.

“Is the man tae be trusted?”

Everard laughed. “Nay. Of course, he’s nae tae be trusted. But it is in his interests tae keep the peace wi’ us, as he has nae wish fer his ships tae come tae harm. He well understands that we have some influence with the privateers and, although they’ll nae touch his ships, they’ll take the bounty from the French and the English ships carrying the goods he’s paid fer.”

This was a constant thorn in MacDougall’s side. While he was occupied with smuggling wine and other goods from France and Europe, they were rich pickings for the privateers who were under the Scots King’s protection. Once the cargo was in the hands of the privateers, MacDougall’s business of smuggling was a loser.

Maxwell couldn’t contain a chuckle. “And MacKinnon? He’s nae bothered by the privateers?”

“I didnae speak with the laird but with his son, Tòrr MacKinnon. He’s a sensible lad, nae a hot-head like his faither. Yet the MacDougalls and the MacKinnons are allies.”

Maxwell nodded. “Hmm. So, if we have trouble with Alexander MacDougal, we can also expect trouble with the MacKinnons of Mull.”

“Aye.” Everard poured them each another cup of mead. “And that brings me tae another matter altogether concerning me visit tae Mull.”

Grinning, Hugo leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I’ll be interested tae hear yer opinion, War Chief.”

With that, Everard launched himself into the details of his first encounter with Davina, and how he’d saved her from the sea. Both Maxwell and Aileen listened without comment. Everard poured them another cup of mead and continued his tale.

“And ye brought this wee lass back tae Kiessimul wi’ ye?” Aileen asked.

“Aye. Mildred has made her comfortable in one of the cottages. Mayhap, while she is wi’ us, she may assist Healer Broderick. It seems she’s been tutored in the healing arts while present in the convent.”

Aileen leapt to her feet. “That poor lass. I must seek out Mildred and have her take me tae her.”

Everard nodded. “That is kind, Aileen. I believe she is in great need of a friend.”

After Aileen had hurried away, Maxwell raised the questions Everard had not been looking forward to.”

“So ye dinnae ken this lass’s name or clan?”

Hugo pulled himself upright in his chair. “And that means, we dinnae ken if her family is friend or foe.”

“Can we nae ask at Iona fer her name? Surely the nuns would nay have taken her in without knowledge of her kin.”

“I agree.” Everard was forced to agree. “Yet, at this stage, I am reluctant tae approach the convent as this would alert them tae her presence on Barra. If she is, indeed, in grave danger, they we may be putting her at risk.”

Maxwell nodded. “Mayhap we should use patience. With time the lass may recall more of her own history.”

“That is me position,” Everard said with a glance at Hugo. “But we should keep watch over her at all times tae ensure her safety.”

“And we must alert our men tae be aware of strangers in the village, or in the Bagh. Have ye spoken yet tae Ranald Dunbar?”

“Nay. I wished tae speak wi’ the Clan War Chief before taking any new action. Part of the duties of Dunbar and the guards is tae keep an eye on all the comings and goings around the bay and the village. Naught has been brought tae me attention.”

“And I’ve heard naught of any newcomers or strangers.”

“Mayhap ye can meet with them. We must ensure nae only the lass’s safety, but the safety of all who reside on the Isle of Barra.”

Frowning, Hugo scoffed. “It would help if we kent what the men were tae look out fer. As we have nae idea of who her family is or what Clan she belongs tae, how can we tell what plaid might signal an enemy?”

“The men who questioned me about the whereabouts of the lass didnae wear a plaid, so I cannae say who they might be. All we can dae is be wary of strangers or anyone asking too many questions about our guest, Mistress Davina.”

“Is it possible they could have followed ye here?” Maxwell asked. “Are ye certain these men were convinced she wasnae on board yer birlinn?

Everard sighed and took a long draught of the mead. “I dinnae believe we were followed. Yet ours was the only birlinn sailing at that time, so suspicion may yet fall on us. We must be vigilant?

“Until we learn more of the lass.” Maxwell raised his cup and Hugo poured them another round of mead.