Page 4 of Bride Takes a Charmer

“I shall try to find her. Worry not.” Aela approached the door and turned to look at her before she left. “All will be well. We must have faith in that. I promised your dear mother that I would look out for you and protect you if I could—”

Sorsha couldn’t allow Aela to despair. When she had married Rodick, her mother insisted that Aela go with her and sent Lister too. Aela and Lister were devoted to her care and she hadn’t felt so alone. They had gone beyond their duty to aid her throughout the years. She couldn’t put them in danger though because Geoff would not care a whit about a maid or a stable lad.

“You have been so kind to me, Aela. But you must promise me not to put yourself in peril. I could not bear that. I do not know what I would have done without you.”

“My lady, ’tis you who have been kind to me. I have faith that God will aid you.” Aela nodded with vigor. She quietly closed the door behind her and shifted the latch.

Sorsha was beyond the help of prayers and in her faith that God would aid her. She was at Geoff’s mercy at least for the moment. Would he accuse her of Rodick’s murder? Or would he continue with the farce that someone snuck into the castle and murdered her husband? Until the queen sent men to rescue her, Sorsha realized that she had to pretend to support the knave. For now, she would be docile and make no complaint. As long as shegot to be with Gillian, she would tell Geoff whatever he wanted to hear.

She wished that she’d prayed for good fortune at the festival, but alas, it appeared she and her daughter would suffer for the foreseeable future. The coming new year offered everyone—but her—the possibility of prosperity.

Chapter Two

Castle Moy, Eilean Nan Clach

Inverness, Highlands Scotland

Mid-March 1260

Shaw Mackintosh stretchedand crawled from his bed. He ambled to the window casement and threw open the shutters. Silence abounded in the predawn morning over the foggy, heavily wooded land in the distance. Cold winter air streamed into his solar and he took a deep breath. Shaw always enjoyed the time of morning when the day held such promise andsolitude.

His solar was the only place that gave him peace. His gaze roved to the door of his private domain and he was dejected that soon, he’d need to leave the tranquil place. Outside his door, his clansmen awaited instruction and guidance.

Shaw listened to the quiet. Except for the wind that whistled at the three-story structure of his home, Castle Moy, and the lapping of the water against the rocks that protected the small island, there was no noise. It was early; dawn had yet to make its appearance over the mountains in the distance. None of his clansmen or women had risen yet. Before long, many would be about the land they called home. Soon the sun would rise and glisten over the waters that surrounded the stony island and a new day would bring what it would.

He scratched his chest and then took hold of the shutters when a knock came at his door. Shaw turned away from the bonny view, latched the window casement enclosure, and crossed the chamber in a quick stride. He didn’t open the door wide because he hadn’t yet garbed himself. The door slightly ajar afforded him to see who dared to awaken him—not that they had—but they didn’t know that.

“Laird, Clovis sent for ye. Milady Maven has left the grounds again. Ye must come at once,” Enid, a young maid within the keep, whispered.

“Aye, I will see to her. Go on to the kitchens, Enid, and tell Mistress Edra that I want the morning fare on the table by the time I return. Give her my thanks as well.” Shaw closed the door and hurried to dress. He pulled on a heavy tunic and covered his waist with his tartan. After, he secured his belt and positioned his sword in the scabbard he’d strapped to his chest. There was no time to waste because he had to get to his grandmother. Given the chill of the morning, she had to be freezing.

Shaw rushed from the room and when he reached the door to the keep, he stopped and grabbed his grandmother’s cloak, the one lined with thick fur. He folded it over his forearm and bounded toward the gate. When he reached it, Clovis, the watchman, opened it.

“Fair morn to ye, Laird.” Clovis pressed a hand over his mouth, covering a quick yawn. He must’ve been at the watch through the night for he appeared disheveled and unkempt. His light-colored cropped hair stuck up and his beard curled in small knots on his face. He cleared his throat and explained, “She was later than usual this morn and only left a short time ago.”

Shaw nodded to his soldier, muttered his thanks, and continued onward. He crossed the wooden bridge and with quick steps, he reached the isolated location of the Mackintosh burial grounds. There amid the cold stones of the dead, hespotted his grandmother. Her body was curled up on the ground before the mound where her husband, his grandda, was buried. He sighed and approached. With a gentle hand, he pressed his grandmother’s shoulder.

“Mamo, ye need to awaken,” Shaw called to her and then three more times before she opened her eyes.

“What are we doing here?” Confusion crossed her face along with a myriad of expressions.

Shaw drew a resigned breath. His aged grandmother had no awareness that she slept walked each night. He’d given orders to the gate watch to allow his grandmother to pass through the gates and not to awaken her. The few times someone had tried to roust her when she’d been in such a state, she’d become violent and hurt herself more than she had those she’d attacked.

“Ye were sleepwalking again.”

Her long gray hair tussled in the wind but she made no move to tame it. She gazed at him with cornflower blue eyes that had long ago faded with her age. Maven was still bonny though, even with the many wrinkles on her face. She accepted the cloak that he held out to her.

“Best get ye warm.” Shaw helped to pull the cloak around her. “One of these days, Mamo, I will not be able to awaken ye.”

She raised her saddened eyes to him. “’Tis what I hope and pray for each night. Why has God left me here when He has taken all those I love…”

Shaw reached out to help her rise, took her hand, and gently squeezed it with affection. “Not all that ye love were taken.”

“True, ye are still here, my bonny lad.”

Shaw didn’t like the forlorn sound of her words or the sorrow that welled in her eyes. “And Corliss needs ye, too. We both need ye, Mamo.”

His grandmother scoffed ahaunder her breath. “That lass… Your sister needs no one, save for herself. Definitely not me. Aye,for she’s a wily cat to land on her feet. Still, I should have died long ago. God surely punishes me by keeping me here. Mayhap I am cursed, aye, because I just want to be with my dear Fergus.” Maven squeezed his hand and raised her face to the sky.