Chapter 14
Second Day at the Inn
A couple of hours later, as the sun was just appearing, Una awoke once again with Cormac wrapped around her.
She enjoyed the feeling for a few moments before deciding it was time to end this closeness between them.
She had to leave that evening, or at least before they moved on toward Edinburgh, and she could not very well do that if she allowed Cormac to continue to hold her close.
She gently slid out of the bed, quietly washed, dressed, and went below stairs.
If she wanted to escape it would have to wait until late in the evening. Daylight held too many eyes.
***
DOWNSTAIRS, UNA FOUND three of Cormac's men at the common room table attempting to stitch holes in their garments.
She stopped in the doorway. She greeted Maisie, then asked, "Have ye a needle and thread? Fine thread if ye have it, but any will do."
Maisie looked at her. Then at the men. Then she disappeared into the back and returned with a workbasket.
Una took it to the table, sat down, and got to work.
She took their garments one by one and began mending them. She needed something to do with her hands, and sewing had always given her that, something to ground herself in.
Soon more of Cormac's men appeared with garments in need of repair. Una worked through them all, making the seams as neat as she could manage.
The men thanked her. A young one called Donal, who could not have been more than nineteen, thanked her so earnestly she nearly laughed.
"That's the finest bit of stitching I've ever seen," he told her. "My mother couldn't have done better." He grinned.
Then Ros appeared from the bench by the wall holding out his plaid with an expression of such hopefulness that Una set down the needle and looked at it. A tear along the hem, a split seam at the shoulder, and a hole near the edge that had been getting larger for what looked like several months.
"Could ye possibly..." he began.
"Give it here," she said.
Maisie brought more thread and Una settled by the fire and began to sew. It was the first time in days she felt entirely like herself.
The needle moved and the work made sense.
She sat in the warm common room and mended the torn garments of a group of rough Highland men who kept coming to her, one by one, with various items in various states of disrepair, holding them out, hoping someone would fix these things for a very long time.
She mended a split seam in Seumas's coat. She replaced two missing buttons on a shirt so old it had no right to survive further washing. She reattached a belt loop, reinforced a worn cuff, and sewed closed a pocket.
The men thanked her each time with a sincerity she found unexpectedly touching. They had been living rough and living hard, and a mended garment meant more than it might seem from the outside. She understood that.
***
CORMAC STOOD IN THE doorway of the common room later that morning and watched her.
He had slept so well he had not heard her leave, and he had felt a stab of disappointment when he woke to find her gone.
But now he watched quietly. She was talking to Donal about something that made him laugh.
Tam was showing her the wound she had stitched and she was inspecting it with a slight frown, pressing around it gently to check the swelling.
The workbasket was open on the table beside her and the fire was behind her and she looked completely at home among his men.
Every time one of them leaned in with an adoring expression he wanted to drag the lot of them away by the collar.
He had never been territorial over a woman before, but this lass brought it out in him without even trying.
He was about to stride across and disperse Tam and Donal when Seumas appeared at his shoulder.
"Calm down," Seumas said. "They're young pups not used to the care of a bonnie lass."
"They should not be hovering about her."
"She's been at it since first light," Seumas said.
Cormac said nothing.
"The men like her," Seumas added.
Cormac said nothing to that either.
"She's not like the noble women ye usually want nothing to do with," Seumas observed, pressing his luck.
"Seumas."
"Aye?"
"Go and do something useful and stop gawking at my woman."
Seumas lifted his brow. "Yer woman, ye say?"
"Shut yer mouth and get on with ye!"
Seumas left, but he did it with a smirk.
Cormac returned his gaze to the woman in question.
His eyes lingered on the Stewart arisaidh, his family colors wrapped around her shoulders, and something in his chest filled with pride.
He wanted to claim her for his own and see her wearing his colors every day.
With her he did not have to hide that he was also the Shadow.
He knew, deep down to his bones, that when he eventually introduced her to his family they would love her. Nessa especially.
He sighed at the thought. Then the reality of it settled over him.
If he turned up on the thane's doorstep requesting the lass's hand, he would be refused.
All the thane would see was a raider, an outlaw, a thief.
No, Cormac would need to approach her father as Cormac Stewart, son of a wealthy laird.
That would improve his chances considerably.
But then what of Fenella? Would she be content married to a man who was equal parts nobleman and raider?
Content for him to be away from home for weeks at a time?
Things were looking very complicated indeed.
Something caught his eye. A man, not one of his, was making his way toward her across the common room. A patron of the inn by the look of him, and one who ought to know better. When the man sat beside her and started conversing, Cormac stiffened and immediately strode across the room.
***
UNA HAD BEEN ENJOYING herself. She had lost herself contentedly in the sewing, even thinking idly about embroidering Cormac a handkerchief. Until a shadow fell across the table.
She looked up. A patron of the inn, no one she recognized. The look in his eyes warned her immediately.
"Well, hello there, lass. I've never seen such a fine miss in these parts. No wonder ye have all these men gawking at ye. Mayhap like me, they'd like a quick tup above stairs. What do ye say?"
"I'd say ye should hold yer tongue when speaking to a lady," Una snapped.
"Och, c'mon now. Ye ain't no lady, not when ye're hanging about with this rough lot."
"How dare ye insult these men. They are decent and brave, unlike ye, ye guttersnipe!"
"How dare ye," the man replied, and stretched his arm toward her.
Una felt Tam and Donal step closer on either side. She knew they would intervene if he tried anything.
But before anyone could move, Cormac appeared. One hand gripped the man's collar in a tight fist and the other held a very sharp dagger across his neck.
"Touch her and ye die."
The man went pale and made a frightened sound. He retracted his arm at once. "I... I was just talking to the lass."
Cormac pressed the blade closer to the skin, drawing a slight nick. The man whimpered. "I heard ye imply she was not a lady. I heard ye think ye could take liberties."
"No, no, I thought she was a whor—"
Cormac gripped him tighter and growled, "Finish that word and I'll gut ye right here in front of everyone."
"I'm sorry, I... I didnae ken she was yer lady."
Pure rage coursed through his veins. Cormac wanted to end the man's measly life on the spot. Then he felt a hand on his arm.
He looked down. Una had leaned across the table and was touching him. The red haze left immediately.
"Dinnae harm him," she said. "He is not worth it."
Her eyes were steady on his. He looked at his men, standing around waiting on his word. Slowly he released the man and stepped back with a nod.
The stranger looked relieved and started rubbing his neck.
"Apologize to the lady before I beat ye to a pulp," Cormac said.
The patron apologized with feeling. Una simply nodded.
Cormac signalled and immediately Seumas and Ros dragged the man out of the common room. "See to it he leaves and does not return while we are under this roof."
Maisie appeared then, asking why one of her patrons was being marched off the premises. Cormac tossed her coin for her trouble. That settled it.
Then he picked Una up, she half-yelped, and sat back down with her on his lap.
"What the devil are ye doing, Cormac?"
"Did he hurt ye?" Cormac asked, ignoring her.
"No, but I can take care of myself. I was about to kick him in the bawsack if he tried to touch me."
"Ye should not have to. 'Tis my job to protect ye while ye are under my care."
"And does protecting me mean ye nearly slice open a man's neck in front of me, then sit me on yer lap where all yer men can see?" she frowned.
"Aye, it does. And my men see nothing when it suits them."
Una looked about the room to find that every single one of them was indeed keeping himself thoroughly occupied and not glancing at them at all.
She rolled her eyes.
Then Cormac murmured in her ear, "Ye left our bed without giving me a good morning kiss. It put me out of sorts. Then I come downstairs and find ye surrounded by men mooning over ye. I did not like it."
"Mooning over me? I was sewing their garments."
"Did any of them propose marriage in that time, even in a joking manner?"
Una blushed and stayed quiet, because two of his men had in fact, jokingly, sworn they would marry her if she'd have them.
Cormac squinted at her silence. "Tell me which ones and I'll make sure they never speak another word again," he growled.
"Would ye stop it, this instant! There is no need to behave like an angry boar."
"I dinnae like the thought of other men fussing over ye."
"Well, ye'll just have to survive it."
"Barely." A beat. "Have ye eaten anything, sweeting?"
"No, I was not hungry. What of ye? Did ye break yer fast?"
"Aye, bread and cheese and ale." He paused. "Do ye have any mending left to do?"