Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
He’s her faither! Alec is… Beitris’ faither. He’s Laird MacMillan.
Mairi looked down, suddenly finding more interest in her skirt than the conversation around her.
She heard her brother complimenting the laird on his fine stables, and his well-kept lands.
She heard the laird respond with his thanks and asking after Struan, offering his belated congratulations on her eldest brother’s marriage.
But the rest of her thoughts were a jumbled mess.
What have I done? Kissin’ me best friend’s faither? Thinkin’ about him in ways I shoudnae?
“Me faither is a good laird.” Beitris snapped Mairi out of her thoughts and Mairi nearly lost her footing. “He takes his responsibility tae our clan seriously and has always taught me tae dae the same.”
All around them, men and women came in and out of the keep carrying out daily tasks, pausing to greet their laird.
Some offered respectful nods, others smiles or murmured greetings.
Alec—Laird MacMillan—acknowledged each with a measured nod or quiet word, polite and never unkind.
There was no mistaking the esteem he commanded.
“Aye, I can tell,” her brother replied.
Mairi could not help but notice how broad his shoulders were.
Remembering the ease with which he had dispatched the man who had tried to attack her, she knew very well he was still clearly a man in his prime.
An uninvited blush crept up her cheeks at the thought, and she pressed her lips together, as if that might somehow silence the entirely inappropriate direction of her mind.
Beitris and Alec turned away from them a moment to speak with an older woman who clearly needed the ir assistance, Finlay took the opportunity to break Mairi from her thoughts.
“Sister, are ye sure ye are good and well with me leavin’ taenight? Ye seem nae as keen on staying as ye did before? Are ye nervous?” Finlay asked in a hushed tone.
“I am, braither, but just a bit. Ye need nae worry about me though,” she replied. “We are in friendly hands with the MacMillians.”
“I ken that well enough,” Finlay responded. “And Struan and I will return in a few weeks tae see how ye fair, but still if ye’re nae feeling comfortable, tell me now and I can take ye home.” His affectionate worry made her heart soften.
Her brothers were both fierce men, to be feared on any battlefield for sure, but when it came to their family, they had hearts of gold. If she only said the word, she knew Finlay would be true to his own and get her home. For that she was grateful.
“And when ye return, I’ll be happy tae see ye both, but fer now ye can leave kenning I’m well taken care of here,” she replied. Turning to get a good look at the great hall she noticed a woman taking a keen interest in her conversation with Finlay.
She stood partially blocked by a pillar, but Mairi was able to make out raven black hair pulled back in a tight bun. She looked like she could have been any age, giving the impression of poise and grace. And her gaze on Mairi was intent, as if she were absorbing every detail.
Mairi wondered what rank the woman held in the clan. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the she was not one to be trifled with. “Fin, dae ye ken that woman over there?”
“Nay,” he responded barely giving the woman a glance. “Why?”
“Nay reason,” Mairi replied, looking back only to find the woman had disappeared. “It seemed she was takin’ a keen interest in our conversation.”
“If she was, sister, ‘twas only because ye’re new tae the keep, and perhaps the most interesting thing that has occurred here in sometime. Are ye sure ye’re fine with me takin’ me leave of ye?” He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug.
“Aye, dinnae worry about me,” she replied hugging him back.
“We’ll take good care of the lass,” Alec replied now turning back to his guests and clapping Finlay on the shoulder. “Ye and the Cameron clan are welcome anytime, lad.”
Mairi watched as her brother left the great hall of the keep. Beitris grabbed her hand offering her support as she wished her brother well.
She wished Finlay had decided to stay and sup with the MacMillans, but she was also excited to be on her own for the first time. She turned ready to say something to Beitris, when she was distracted by an approaching maid.
“Come, Iona and I will help get ye settled in yer chambers.”
“Make sure a bath is drawn fer her as well,” Alec–Laird MacMillan added and his gaze flicked briefly to Mairi. “The lass must be tired after the ride.”
Mairi’s cheeks flushed with the attention on her, but she could barely keep up. Before she knew what was happening, Beitris had whisked her away from the great hall. She hazarded a final glance back to where Alec had been standing, but he too had taken his leave.
Would he look at me with some interest if I were older?
Mairi shook her head, clearing the foolish notion.
From what Beitris had told her, Laird MacMillan was nearing thirty-six.
Clearly too old to be interested in a lass such as herself.
And even if he wasn’t a decade older, even if he didn’t carry the title of laird, he was still her best friend’s father.
Improper, start to finish.
Yet Mairi couldn’t stop thinking of how soft his lips had felt on hers. It had been her first kiss, and Mairi cherished it with all her heart. She raised a finger to touch her lips but stopped, realizing what she was doing.
Ye need tae gather yerself, lass.
“Once ye’ve rested, I’ll show ye the rest of the castle as well. Oh, we will have such fun, Mairi! I just ken it.” Betiris’s boundless energy snapped Mairi out of her thoughts and she smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm.
“I ken we will too,” she said. “But first, dae ye mind if I bathe?”
The warm water of the bath soothed Mairi’s aching bones from the long ride from Achnacarry. The maid, Iona, had brought in a soap scented with lavender and something else, something bright yet soothing that Mairi couldn’t place. As she washed, she made a note to ask Beitris what the herb was.
Try as she might, she could not keep her thoughts from returning to Alec…
Laird MacMillian, I must remember!
As he had stood in the hall in greeting, she had had a feeling that he had been happy to see her at the keep. Her head was nearing a full ache with the questions that swirled through her mind, each one louder and more insistent than the last.
Did he ken who I was when he saved me? Has he regretted kissin’ me? Daes he plan tae confront me about it?
She resolved not to dwell on it. If she carried on as though nothing had happened, perhaps in time the memory would dull and drift away.
For that to be so, Mairi knew she’d need to keep a fair distance from him.
And though her first instinct had been to leave, to turn her steps back toward Achnacarry, she had given her word to Beitris.
She would not bring sorrow to a friend who only wanted her company.
Her trunk had arrived before her and Mairi had been pleased to see it already set in her chambers.
She had laid out her clothes for the evening meal and got herself settled.
Taking in the chamber around her, in addition to the softest bed she had ever laid upon, there was an east facing window.
That small detail delighted her to no end.
She loved to rise with the sun. At Achnacarry, there were only servants about in the kitchens in the early morning hours, and she felt free to wander, alone with her thoughts.
I wonder if it’ll be the same here.
Not that she wasn’t looking forward to Beitris’s company, but having a moment or two just for herself would be divine.
She rinsed and grabbed her drying cloth, just as there was a knock on her chamber door and Beitris and Iona entered followed by two more maids who quickly dispatched the tub of water.
“Iona is here tae help brush out yer hair and help ye dress fer dinner if ye would like?” Mairi looked at the young woman, her brown hair plaited into a tight braid that hung down her back.
She guessed the lass was young, perhaps one and twenty, but not more.
Her eyes were downcast, and Mairi had yet to hear the lass speak.
“Of course, it would be an honor,” Mairi replied.
“Oh good,” Beitris said, tossing down onto the bed. “Iona is a wonder with plaits, and she is gentle with knots.”
Mairi sat at the small stool by the window. “I am glad ye are here, Iona,” she said. “I was curious as tae the soap I used in me bath. There was an herb in it that I am unfamiliar with.”
“T’would be the bog myrtle, me lady,” Iona replied, her eyes still down cast. Her voice was soft and unassuming. Mairi thought she was probably a woman not used to having any attention paid to her. “It helps tae keep the midges away.”
“Is it easy tae find? Daes it have other uses?” Mairi was eager to learn more about the herb.
She had heard of using lemon balm in soaps and such, but to add something that smelled just as lovely but also had another use was a wonder.
“I wonder if there are any other herbs ye ken of that have multiple uses?”
Iona was silent, but the movement on Mairi’s hair had stopped.
“I think ye’re scaring poor Iona,” Beitris laughed. “Dinnae mind Mairi’s questions. She loves plants and nature. Most of our time together in the village she has either been picking herbs or asking the healer questions of herbs and potions. Isnae that right, Mairi?”
“Aye, I didnae mean tae make ye uncomfortable,” Mairi replied. Perhaps the servants at the MacMillan keep were not as open to talking as Mairi was used to back home. She would have to remember that as to not make any others wary.
“Nae tae worry, while ye’re here, I’ll show ye our healing garden and we’ll take so many walks around the loch. We’ll find ye loads of plants tae look at.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Mairi replied clapping her hands together in excitement, unable to move too much as the maid worked her plaits. “I think I shall like it here very much.”