Chapter 17
Thankfully, the next morning was slightly warmer, and they were able to resume their journey straight away. With more than six miles to go, they knew that they would be walking until early evening with nothing in their stomachs.
“I hope we can make it,” Kenna said anxiously as they set off once more.
It was late autumn, when the sky was still dark until midmorning, and after they had covered no more than a few hundred yards, they were already freezing.
“We will,” Maxwell said, with a note of grim determination in his voice. “Together, we can do anything.”
Kenna gave him a strange smile. “I believe you.”
It came to her suddenly that she and Maxwell made a good team who could do anything they put their minds to. What a pity he was a master and she was a servant, she thought, since they could have gone so far together. Then she shooed the thought out of her mind. There was no future for them.
It was late afternoon by the time they arrived at Kirklieth, and both of them were exhausted and weak from hunger. As they approached the castle, Maxwell felt his heart speed up, and a mixture of emotions assailed him. Firstly, he was relieved to be home. Secondly, he was afraid of the family’s anger. And finally, he was worried that he might be asked to leave again. He doubted he could cope in the world of the weak and homeless again, and he wondered fearfully what would happen to him. He had never resorted to stealing, but it might yet come to that.
Kirklieth castle had no moat, only a dry ditch that ran all the way around the castle with a short bridge across it that led to the main gate. The two guards that were standing at the end of the bridge looked astonished as they watched the big man and the small woman approaching.
“Master Maxwell, is that you?” the bigger of the two guards, Gerry Dornan, asked in disbelief.
“Aye,” Maxwell answered with a weary smile. “It is, Gerry. Is my sister here?”
“She is,” the other guard, Fergus Boyd, answered. “Where have ye been a’ this time, Master?”
“It is a very long story, Fergus.”
Maxwell screwed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. His head was aching, and he knew it was because of hunger, so without another word, he took Kenna’s hand and made his way down to the kitchen.
They were greeted by the familiar smell of warm bread and the chatter and laughter of the kitchen staff as they worked. As they entered, they all looked up from their labors, and there was a sudden shocked silence as all eyes swiveled to look at Maxwell and the small woman beside him.
“Master Maxwell! Is that ye?” Wiping her hands on her apron, the cook, Cathy Kennedy, came forward to look at him. “I cannae believe it! Where have ye been?”
“I will tell you all in a while, Cathy,” Maxwell replied as he flopped down wearily on a chair before the fire, pulling another one beside him for Kenna. “Please give us both whatever food you have that is ready to hand. Anything.” He held his hands out before the fire.
Kenna did the same, but she was aware of all the work going on around her and felt guilty that she was not taking part in any of it. She began to stand up, but Maxwell pulled her down again.
“Sit still, Kenna. They are working for both of us today,” he said softly. “We are both tired and hungry.”
One of the kitchen maids brought them each a mug of mulled ale, and as she swallowed it, Kenna felt all her fear and apprehension drain away. It was sublime. Sitting beside a cozy fire with Maxwell, a delicious drink in her hand, waiting for their food to come… She could not bring herself to worry about the future since today was all that mattered.
When their beef stew and bannocks arrived, there was no more talking. Each of them ate as though it was the last meal they would ever have, and when they were finished, a bowl of clootie dumpling followed it.
Maxwell sat back and blew out a long sigh of satisfaction, then smiled at Kenna.
“All right?” he asked.
“Never better,” she replied, grinning at him.
He frowned. “It is time to meet the tigress,” he said grimly.
He felt apprehensive but optimistic at the same time as he stood up. He and Lindsey had always butted heads, but they still loved each other dearly, and each of them would have backed the other up under any circumstances. Yet when Lindsey was right, she would rarely back down, and Maxwell could see that a confrontation of massive proportions was coming.
He sighed and put one foot on the first step of the kitchen staircase, then looked up. Staring down at him from the top of the stairs was a pair of silver-grey eyes just like his own, but they belonged to a woman.
Lindsey had come looking for him.
Kenna looked up at the same moment and saw Lindsey’s and Maxwell’s gazes meet and clash, and for a second it felt as though lightning was sparking through the air.
“Max Forbes!” Lindsey cried angrily. “Where have you been? Do you know how worried we have been? You inconsiderate swine!”
Her face was red with rage, but as Maxwell advanced upstairs, he could see the tears streaming down her face. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek softly, thinking how odd it was that his little big sister was going to be a mother.
He put her away a bit to look into her face, but Lindsey pummeled him on the chest with her fists until he caught her wrists in his and stopped her. But he could do nothing about the stormy grey eyes glaring into his.
“Lindsey,” he said softly, “I am sorry. Let me explain everything to you over a glass of wine.” He stood aside and drew Kenna forward. “This is my friend, Kenna Bowie, who saved my life.”
Kenna curtsied shyly and kept her gaze on the floor, but Lindsey stepped forward and said, “Look up, please.”
Kenna obeyed, and the two women looked at each other steadily. Lindsey was like her brother facially and had the same eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Lindsey was short, fair, and at the moment, round. She looked as though her child was about to make an appearance any moment.
“I am Lady Lindsey Gilchrist of Auchnashiel,” she announced. “I will be leaving soon, but if what my brother says is true, then I must thank you while I can. He is very inconsiderate, but I love him.”
Kenna smiled at the other woman. She wanted to say, “I do, too,” but that was not possible.
“I only did what anyone else would have done,” she said softly.
“But ‘anyone else’ did not do it,” Lindsey pointed out. “You did. I am indebted to you, Kenna.”
They reached the small parlor, where they sat down. Kenna, unused to being in the company of people who were above her in social standing, shuffled from foot to foot for a few seconds, unsure of what to do.
Seeing her confusion, Maxwell took her hand and pulled her down beside him, smiling at her.
“She does not bite,” he whispered, and Kenna managed to relax a little.
“Max, what happened?” Lindsey asked urgently, leaning forward as far as her bulging tummy would allow. “Where have you been?”
Maxwell sighed. “No matter what you heard, Lindsey, I did not kill Lachlan. He was drunk—very drunk. He tried to rape one of the kitchen maids and was carrying her in his arms. The poor girl was screaming, and she was absolutely terrified. All I did was pull her out of his arms, but when her weight shifted, he was unbalanced, and since he was standing at the top of the stairs, he fell over backwards.
“A few of the servants saw the whole thing, and I am sure that they would have spoken up for me, but, like a coward, I ran. I realized later that by running, I had more or less given Douglas free rein to say anything he liked about me.”
“He says you are a murderer,” Lindsey said baldly as she poured wine for all of them. “I told him that you did not have a vicious bone in your body and that Lachlan was your best friend, but he did not believe me. He prefers to think that you pushed his brother down a flight of stairs in revenge for the time he pushed you out of a tree. I went to Lady McDonald and the laird to explain, and somehow I managed to make peace with them, but it would be better if you go there yourself. It is the least you can do, Max.”
“I can confirm that he did nothing wrong, milady,” Kenna said firmly. “I was there, and I saw the whole thing.”
Maxwell did not react to Kenna’s statement. She was lying about being there, but she was telling the truth about what had really happened.
Maxwell nodded slowly. “I will go there,” he agreed. “And the sooner, the better. Kenna, please come with me. Your mother will be wondering where you are, and I know the McDonalds love you.”
As much as I do. The thought startled him, but he had no time to think about it.
“Of course I will,” she replied, smiling.
“How did you save Max’s life?” Lindsey asked curiously.
“She took me in out of the cold, fed me, and kept me warm, at great danger to herself,” Maxwell answered for her. “Kenna is a hero.”
Kenna blushed hotly. She did not deserve such praise.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You are a hero, Kenna,” Lindsey said warmly. “I will hear more about this later since it sounds like quite an intriguing tale, but for now I must go about my business. Max, we must have a talk later.”
Maxwell nodded and carried on sipping his wine.
For the moment, everyone seemed to have forgotten about Kenna. She was not quite sure what was going to happen next, but she supposed she would be sent to the servants’ quarters to spend the night. She was uncomfortably aware that she had no clean clothes and was probably filthy.
“Kenna.” Maxwell had noticed her anxiety. “What is wrong?”
“I was wondering where I am supposed to sleep,” she answered. “I did not see a door to the servants’ quarters.”
“Good,” Maxwell stated. “Because you are not sleeping there. You will have one of the guest chambers, a bath, and a change of clothes, then a proper dinner with Lindsey and me. Tomorrow we will go back and explain things to the McDonalds.”
Things were happening so fast that Kenna could barely take them in all in at once.
“A guest chamber? For me?” she asked, stupefied. “But I have never slept in anything but my own bedroom in my life. Maxwell, I cannot!”
“You can, and you will,” he said firmly. “Kenna, you speak and act like a lady, you are intelligent, and you are beautiful. You will match the bedroom perfectly, and you deserve to be pampered for once.”
Kenna had no words, but Maxwell could tell by the wonder on her face how grateful she was. She was like a child being shown a nursery of new toys, he thought, feeling infinitely sorry for her. He knew then that he wanted to—had to—help her. He might not be able to change her whole life, but he could repay her in some small way until he thought of something better.