Page 33 of Bride Takes a Charmer (Highland Vows & Vengeance #3)
Shaw grabbed his small hand and gently squeezed it. “We can be your family if ye want us to be. Ye do not have to answer right now. Take some time to think about it. We will not force ye to stay here or to call us mama or papa.”
Luthor’s cheeks streamed with trickling tears. He nodded, turned away from them, and left the hall. Shaw followed him to the entrance of the great hall and watched him take the steps to the upper solar. The lad needed to be alone.
Shaw appreciated his need for solitude. Likely Luthor wanted to weep in privacy without being seen as weak.
Sorsha stood next to him and leaned on the opposite side of the doorjamb. “The poor lad. I should go and tend to him.”
“Nay, give him a moment or two. He is a growing lad and right now needs a wee bit of time alone.” Shaw took her in his arms and embraced her. “Weep not, love. He will accept us. Even if he does not, he shall remain here until he is old enough to care for himself.”
“But I want him to want us…” Sorsha pressed her face against his chest.
“We shall have a quiet supper this eve, just the four of us.” Shaw pressed her toward the steps. “Bring the children later to the hall. I will tell Edra to bring the food early so we can spend the evening with them.”
“That is a fair idea, Shaw.” Sorsha left him and he hastened to the kitchens.
On the way, the delicious scent of stew wafted to him.
He spotted his sister leaving and she smiled at him as she passed.
When he entered the stone building, he could tell Edra was in a foul temper because she stirred the stew briskly, almost sloshing the broth over the edge of the pot.
Had Corliss angered Edra? He surmised she had but asked anyway, “Mistress… What troubles ye?”
She gasped and pressed her hands to her chest. “Oh, Laird, ye frightened me. I did not hear ye enter. Naught is troubling me, at least, naught that I will allow. What do ye need?” She bowed to him and smiled.
“Something was troubling ye when I entered. Tell me what it was.” Shaw did not like the notion that his maidservant was upset. She worked hard for his household and the last thing he wanted was for someone or something to upset her.
“Honest, Laird, I do not wish to speak of it. ’Tis an unimportant matter. It shall right itself in time. Now, what can I do for ye?”
“Sorsha and I wish to sup with the children earlier this eve. Will ye bring supper soon?”
“I am gladdened to and shall have it brought with haste.” She turned back to the large pot that steamed a delicious scent of stew through the kitchen.
Shaw took a deep breath before retreating from the kitchen.
He’d hoped that she would tell him why she’d been irked but alas, he wouldn’t press Edra.
Outside, he walked around the keep in his quest to take in the late afternoon air.
Corliss called out to him and he turned to find her on the lane in the front of the keep.
“Sister, there ye are. I have not seen ye all day.”
“Shaw, I want a word about your soldiers. They tormented my poor Idris. Idris told me how they attacked him and pulled a dagger on him. They dared to threaten him.” Corliss set her hands on her hips and glared. “Your soldiers need to be punished. What do ye intend to do about it?”
He swiped his hand over his face and groaned under his breath. “It was not all my soldiers, only one, and he did not torment or threaten Idris.”
“He accused him of deceit and tried to stab him. What I want to know is what ye plan to do about it. Surely ye won’t let the man get away with it.”
“I spoke at length with the man and he will not bother your husband again. Rest assured.”
“Very well, but I am not sure if I am appeased or not. We cannot have our clansmen making idle threats against our family, Shaw, or do ye allow such insolence?”
“Nay, I do not. Now I told ye I handled the situation.” Shaw withheld his anger by fisting his hands even though he wanted to lash out about Corliss’s husbands actions.
Idris needed to find a way to win over the Mackintosh clansmen.
“If Idris wishes to discuss the matter further, tell him to come to me and we will talk. I must return to the keep. Sorsha awaits me.”
Corliss grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. “That is another thing, Brother. Your wife… She is not very adept as the mistress of the keep. If ye wish I can assist her. She has her hands full with those children.”
Shaw tilted his head at his sister’s hostile words.
She had spoken with some vehemence in her tone and he liked it not.
“Corliss, Sorsha is my wife… She is Lady Mackintosh. She alone has a say over everything to do with the keep and no other. If she asks for your aid, ye will give it. Otherwise, leave her be. And if ye have an issue with my wife, ye will say so now.” He allowed her cadence to spur his ire but he hadn’t meant to sound angry.
“Nay, I have no issue with her. I only thought to offer my assistance.”
“Sorsha was previously married to Rodick Chattan and is more than capable of being the lady of the keep. It would please me if ye tried to befriend her. She has not had an easy time and needs family around her and ye know how much I value family.” He yanked his arm from her grasp and made to leave.
Corliss reached out and wrapped her fingers around his arm again, stopping him. “Why does she need family?”
“She recently received the dreadful news that her parents had died.”
His sister drew a resigned breath. “I will try, Shaw, to befriend her.”
He tugged his arm out of her grip once more. “I must go. This night we plan to have a quiet supper with the children so find your meal elsewhere. The hall is off limits to all.” He turned and left his sister standing with her mouth agape at his directive.
Shaw reentered the keep and found Gillian and Luthor sitting at the table.
The stew, along with a basket of bread and a bowl full of peas sat in the center.
There was also a tray of sweetcakes and a bowl of jellied fruit.
Before he took his seat at the table, his gaze shot around the chamber looking for his wife but she wasn’t in the hall.
“Where is Milady?” he asked Luthor.
“She returned to the kitchen and said she would come back.”
“Ahh… Well then, let us eat.” Shaw spooned the stew into their bowls and pushed them toward the children. He took a roll, broke it in half, and handed each of them a piece. “We should eat before it gets cold.”
Silence abounded in the hall as they ate. Sorsha still hadn’t returned.
As Shaw sat there, he thought about Luthor’s plan to entice the lass to speak.
He’d tormented her with his silliness but the lad’s idea was sound.
Shaw chuckled to himself and watched Gillian.
She sat with the spoon in her hand and swirled it in the bowl of pottage.
He needed to make progress with her soon and so he decided this would be the day that he got her to speak or at least react to him.
Shaw shoved his spoon in his mouth and cleaned the stew from it.
He then dipped the spoon in the bowl of peas and made certain there were a good many on it.
With the spoon aimed, he called to Gillian and she raised her eyes.
Shaw flicked the spoon’s peas at her and they pummeled her body.
The wee lass gasped and stared at him as if he’d gone mad.
He continued to incite her response by rolling several more peas across the table at her and she pressed back in her chair, watching him with the beginning of mirth in her eyes.
If she wasn’t aghast at being pummelled with peas perhaps pottage would serve him better.
Shaw dipped his spoon in his pottage bowl and made certain it overflowed with a good helping.
He then aimed it and let it loose. A wad of stew hit Gillian in the center of her chest and she shrieked.
“What…? Why…? Oho, Mama is going to be angry,” Gillian said with awe.
Shaw grinned at the sound of her winsome voice. Not only was she a bonny lass, but she had the voice of an angel. He found himself lightened at hearing her words.
“Do not worry, lass, I will tell her it was my fault.”
Luthor watched them with his mouth ajar. He didn’t want to be left out of the melee and he shot a spoonful of pottage at him. Shaw bellowed with laughter. Within a moment, they were flinging pottage at each other and the table was littered with speckled bits of stew.
Gillian’s laughter mingled with Luthor’s and Shaw chortled at the banter between them.
“What in heaven’s name is going on?” Sorsha approached the table and frowned.
“Laird Mackintosh started it, Mama.”
Sorsha stared hard at Gillian before she fell to her knees and sobbed. When she caught her breath, she said, “Did my bairn just speak?”
Shaw was delighted to answer her, “Indeed she did.”
Through tears and sobs, Sorsha managed to speak, “Thank you. Praise God, he has answered my prayers.”