Page 6 of The Beast in the Loch (The Beasts #1)

Sibby returned with a smile. "Ah, I knew you would be a good one the moment I saw you. In time you can help me run the household, order the servants and so on, but for now Murchadh will want you to rest and gather your thoughts. The two of you need to get used to each other."

"How many souls live in the castle?"

She grimaced. "There are the three brothers with fearsome appetites, Aela, myself and the servants. Sometimes I work from dawn to dawn, and still my work is not done."

"But what of Aela?" Maire asked in surprise. "Doesn't she help too?"

The crone's lip curled. "Aela has never helped. From the day she arrived she expected to be waited upon, and nothing has changed."

She began to reply, and then a thought struck her that made her stare at the old woman. "But . . . if you were here when Aela came . . . How old are you mother?"

"I am older than you can imagine," she said, and her grey eyes indeed seemed wiser than any Maire had seen before.

"I was here on the shore of the loch when the Knights arrived.

They did not speak our language then, so I helped them to negotiate with the Chiefs," she said proudly.

"It is through me they received so much—the castle and the loch.

I am their confidante. I will never leave them. "

Maire tried to imagine such a thing and her head spun. She was about to ask where the Knights were now, and was it true they could not walk in the sunlight, when the servant by the hearth turned. All thought left her head and her throat went dry.

It was impossible to tell what the creature might once have looked like because the skin on its face was burned and scarred into a dreadful mask.

Had this been some awful punishment meted out to a woman who did not please her Knight, just as Aela had said?

Could this happen to her if Murchadh was not satisfied with her?

She felt dizzy with the horror of it, and grasped the table to stop herself from falling.

"Go and rest, lady," Sibby was saying with a frown, perhaps believing Maire's reaction was due to fatigue. "You will need your strength when Murchadh returns."

A splintery cackle followed her from the room.

Maire went back to her chamber with her thoughts in turmoil. Could she believe what Aela had said to her? Was that poor creature once like her? She lay down upon the bed and closed her eyes, just for a moment, and instantly fell asleep.

It was into darkness she woke, and the caress of a big, scarred hand.

"Damsel," he said, and his voice did its usual trick of stealing her breath and making her senses spin.

"Murchadh," she whispered.

The sound of his name in her mouth pleased him, she could tell. She reached to touch him and found his skin cold and damp and, when she pressed her face into the hollow of his throat, she breathed in the salty sea.

"My village . . . ?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. I am waiting for my brother Cian to return from the north. Then I will deal with your Norsemen, Maire."

"Then where were you?"

He sighed and rested his face against her hair. "So many questions. I was watching over my domain."

"But the sunlight . . . I thought . . ."

"Thought what?" She could hear by the sound of his voice that he wasn't pleased with her. And wasn't pleasing him what she must do, if she didn't want to end up like that poor creature in the kitchen?

"Nothing, it's nothing." She turned her face so that their lips met.

He groaned softly, deepening the kiss, and rolling over onto his back, pulled her on top of him. After a moment she forgot she was playing a role. His touch, his body, worked their magic, and in the heat of the moment nothing mattered but Murchadh, and the pleasure they could make together.

It was afterwards that she remembered, on their way down to the great hall. Murchadh grasped her hand in his, leading her to the head of the table, and sat her on his right hand side. There was some significance in this evidently for she heard Aela's indignant murmur.

"Welcome, Maire," she said almost at once, covering her true feelings with a smile, but her eyes were hard. The girl was leaning possessively against a knight with hair the colour of wet sand and eyes as blue as summer.

This must be Shay, she thought, and a moment later Murchadh introduced him as his youngest brother. Shay was handsome, but Maire found him a pale shadow compared to her Murchadh. Did that mean she was under some sort of magic spell? she asked herself. Or was she falling in love with him?

Just then there was a disturbance at the door and another Knight strode in. As big as Murchadh but with hair of a light brown and hazel eyes, he seemed pleased to see her.

"My lady," he said, bowing over her hand. His expression was admiring, almost flirtatious. "I have heard much of you."

Maire looked at Murchadh, aware of him tensing at her side. He looked black as a storm cloud, but the other man only laughed.

"My brother considers you his," he said, as if to her alone, although everyone else could hear. "I had best watch my step."

Murchadh gave him a slap on the shoulder that nearly knocked him over. "This is my brother Cian," he said dryly. "He thinks he is amusing. Now he is back I can grant your favour, Damsel," he added in a softer voice, watching her face.

Maire nodded, dropping her own gaze to her plate. "Thank you, Murchadh."

His hand covered hers and once more she saw the evidence of old injuries upon it, and wondered about the many battles he had fought over the centuries.

Then the servant appeared with carved meat piled high upon a platter, and the men began to eat.

But Maire had glanced at the poor creature's face and she had no appetite.

And worse, there was another servant, and although her face was not scarred she dragged her leg as if it had once been broken and never properly healed.

She was aware that Murchadh had noticed her silence and with an effort she tried to smile as the three brothers spoke of Cian's trip north, which had evidently been to do with a woman, or so she guessed from the barely veiled innuendos between them.

Aela was watching her as if waiting, and when Maire could no longer avoid the other woman's gaze, she smiled slightly and nodded toward the servant with the scarred face.

Maire did not need to hear her words, which were too low to be heard anyway, for she knew what she was saying.

This could be Maire if she did not please Murchadh, and if she wanted to avoid such a fate then perhaps she should leave.

Before it was too late and she was trapped here forever.

The meal went on and on, and it was a relief when Murchadh stood up and took her hand, saying they would retire. There was more banter, but he ignored it as he led her from the hall toward the stairs.

However once the door was closed on their bedchamber, he turned her toward him with hands that held her upper arms so tightly they bruised.

"What is it, Damsel? And do not say nothing because I will know you lie. You are changed; your thoughts are turned inward. Something has happened and I want to know what it is."

His dark eyes were fixed on hers and when she opened her mouth to deny it he gave her a little shake. "The truth, Maire."

Maire swallowed. What did it matter anyway? She would tell him and then he could do with her as he willed. Perhaps it was better to know her fate at once rather than to let the waiting drag on.

"The servants . . . I know they are women who displeased you." She lifted her chin and stared back at him, fully aware of the condemnation in her face.

Did something deep in his eyes change? But all he said was, "Go on."

"How could you punish anyone so? No matter what they did? And will that be my fate too, Murchadh, if I do not please you enough?"

He let her go and went to the fire, which was blazing with a wonderful heat.

Maire wanted to creep closer and hold out her hands to it, but she forced her feet to stay and her back to remain straight.

If she was to be punished then she would not be a coward about it, not after all she had been through already.

But you are in love with him, a voice whispered in her head. Aren't you? Does it not make your heart ache to find he is not as perfect as you believed him to be?

"Who told you this story?" he asked her, and she realised he was angry. Even angrier than he had been before.

"I don't think I should say."

He snorted a laugh, and turned to face her. "Aela," he growled. "I would rid us of her lies and trickery, but my foolish brother loves her."

Maire stared back at him, his words slowly making sense. "She lied?" she whispered at last, and could not help the sob in her voice. Relief washed through her and yet neither of them moved.

"She lied," he said with a nod of his head.

"Those poor creatures who serve us . . .

Sibby found them. They are outcasts, abandoned by their countrymen, and she has taken them in.

But do not think it is all from the goodness of her heart," he added with a lift of his eyebrow.

"It is difficult to find servants who would come to work at Castle Samhanach of their own free will. "

Maire stared and then she laughed. "I have been a fool," she said.

"Yes," he agreed, watching her.

Deliberately she took a step toward him, and then another, until she was standing close. She reached up and touched his face in a gentle caress, and then she stretched up on her toes to kiss his chin, the only spot she could reach.

He closed his eyes.

She wrapped her arms about him and nestled against his chest, aware of the rough hairs against her cheek, and the warm salty scent of him.

"Forgive me, Murchadh," she whispered.

His arms had come around her now and she felt his lips brush the top of her head. "You will not be taken in again," he said. "It was a lesson you had to learn."