Page 25 of Bride Takes a Charmer
Mamo’s mouth hung open slightly before she righted herself. “Oh, pray tell… Isthisthe woman ye professed to care for all those years ago? The one who married the Chattan laird?”
Shaw nodded. “Aye, she is. She was widowed, and now I am fortunate to be married to her.” He reached across the table and took her hand. She gripped his fingers tightly, so grateful to be his wife now.
“I am the fortunate one, Mamo. Your grandson is a worthy husband and I cannot be happier.” Remarkably, there was no coyness in the way she spoke. Sorsha meant every word she spoke, and once Gillian was returned to her loving embrace, her heart would be completely whole.
“Ye belong together now, aye, for fate has played a hand in your coming together. It does this old woman’s heart good to see ye both happy. Forgive me,” Mamo said and pressed her eyes. “I cannot seem to cease weeping. My tears are joyous. I want to hear every detail of what happened in Edinburgh.”
Shaw released her hand, pressed his chair back, and stood. “I shall take that as my leave then. Ye will be all right here until I return? I will not leave ye if…”
Sorsha shook her head. “Nay, go on. I am sure you wish to meet with your clansmen. Luthor needs to be settled and then I will make myself at home.”
He pressed his hand on her cheek. “Aye, ’tis your home, lass, do not forget that. Just know I might be a while and need to hear my commander’s report. Mistress Edra will find you some supper as promised, and help both you and Luthor to your rooms, and I will see ye later.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the base of her palm that promised a warmer homecoming just between them, later. She felt her cheeks heat.
As soon as Shaw cleared the doorway, Maven reached across the table and patted her hand. “I am gladdened ye were given to Shaw as a bride. He never forgot ye, lass, ye know that?”
“He has said as much.” Being alone with Shaw’s grandmother brought on a shyness; Sorsha didn’t retort but kept her gaze on Luthor, who continued to amble around the chamber. She smiled when he pretended to fight with an imaginary sword, talking to a pretend foe and finally behaving like a normal little boy, unafraid and well-fed for once. This made her almost as happy as being Shaw’s wife.
“Shall we take the lad to the kitchen and get him some food?” Mamo asked.
“I should like to bathe him as well and handle some other matters. Aye, let us to the kitchen.”
Sorsha called Luthor, and Mamo showed her the way to the kitchen. It was located in a small building behind the back of the fief. From the outside, the building appeared small, but once she entered, she realized it was quite spacious.
Edra set a pot on the hook above the fire and turned to her. “Oh, Milady, I was about to bring the foodstuff.”
“Shaw had to meet with his men. Would you mind if we ate here, in the kitchen?”
Edra bobbed her head. “I shall serve ye as soon as the stew heats.”
Sorsha approached the worktable that sat before the hearth. “Can we have some water heated for a bath for the lad? And might we find some more garments that would fit him better than the ones he’s wearing?”
“Oh, is not Grace’s lad about his size? She has three lads so she’ll likely have something to fit the wee lad,” Mamo said to Edra.
“I am certain she would have garments for him. I can go when I finish warming the water for his bath.”
“Nay, ye are busy attending to the clan’s new lady. I shall go and will return soon.” Mamo smiled, bowed to her, and left the kitchen.
Edra pulled a large tub from the antechamber and set it near the fire. She poured heated water into the bath and continued to do so until it reached halfway to the top, then plopped in a big bar of rough soap.
“Luthor.” Sorsha gestured to him, and he trudged forward as if he were going to his death. She almost laughed because while he accepted his bath in a stream, now—like most lads—he apparently abhorred bathing. With a gentle push to his back, she pressed him forward and pulled at his garments until he was free of them.
Luthor was shy and kept his head lowered. Without much ado, she lifted him and set him in the tub. He sat down and swirled the water with his hands. A film of white froth from the soap began to form, distracting him from his distaste forbathing. He giggled a little as his small body slipped around the bottom of the tub.
“You will feel much better once you’ve bathed and then we will have a good meal,” Sorsha told him, trying not to laugh at the surprise on his face when the bar of soap slipped from between his hands. She imagined he’d never seen anything like it in his life. So as not to embarrass him with her laughter, she turned to the housekeeper. “What are you serving, Mistress Edra?”
“I made a hearty pottage with plenty of venison for supper.” Edra tossed the garments outside the kitchen next to the entrance.
“Well, it smells delicious.” As she waited for Luthor to finish bathing himself, she sat on a stool near the table and watched him. He seemed to enjoy the tub, and Lord knew, he needed to wash away some of the road dust that stuck to him. Little boys seemed to attract more dirt than girls. Or at least, more dirt than Gillian had ever collected. “Do you have parchment and ink?”
Edra hastened to the antechamber again and returned with pieces of parchment, a quill, and a small bottle of ink. “Here, Milady. Will this do? I use it to make lists for market day.”
“’Tis perfect. My thanks, Edra.” Sorsha scrawled a message to Aela letting her know that she would send for her as soon as she was able. She didn’t disclose where she was for fear that Geoff might intercept her message. Instead, she wrote that she was safe and not to worry about her. When she finished the missive, she glanced at the lad and sighed. “Luthor, I am going to write to the king’s chamberlain to ask after your parents. What are their names?”
The lad peered at her and shrugged his shoulders. “Mama and Papa.”
He was young, and she should have realized that would’ve been his obvious answer. She laughed because he sounded sosure of himself. “Of course you would call them that but what did your ma call your da?”
“Father.”