3. Clean Floors and Moonlight #2
“I don’t give a toss what ye meant. Go get the vegetables. And once ye are done, I’ll send ye back out for herbs, got it?”
“Aye,” she mumbled sullenly, turning away.
After only half a day here, Catriona found herself already missing home. There were the same chores to be done at home, of course. Vegetables gathered, herbs picked, eggs fetched, meat prepared, floors swept, and so on. But here at the Keep, everything was so much harder, so much more.
I should be grateful I’m not in the laundry, Catriona thought bleakly, conjuring up an image of burly-armed women with damp faces and permanently wrinkled hands. The Keep produced constant laundry, apparently.
She slipped through the corridors and out into the courtyard.
The gardens were accessed through a narrow doorway, revealing rows and rows of leafy, overgrown plants.
The beds were in need of weeding and a little care, but the ground dutifully produced enough vegetables and fruit to feed countless mouths every day.
Sighing, Catriona set down the basket and knelt between the rows of potato plants. Wide, leafy plants hid the ground beneath, and she brushed them aside…
And knelt on something soft.
“Ow,” somebody said from below, voice muffled. “That’s my hand.”
Catriona straightened up as though she’d been stabbed. Leaning down, she brushed aside a leaf.
A blond, good-looking man regarded her thoughtfully. He lifted his hand, wiggling his fingers.
“Not broken,” he observed thoughtfully. “Even though ye are as heavy as an elephant.”
Don’t laugh at him. Ye will only encourage him.
“Master Niall. What an unpleasant surprise. Care to tell me what ye are doing here, lying down amongst the potatoes?” Catriona managed, fighting to keep her expression smooth.
Niall sighed. “I am avoiding a clan meeting. My cousin and father are there, so I really do not understand why I have to be there, ye know?”
“Ye are the heir, aren’t ye?”
“Aye, but the heir doesn’t have that much power. Everybody knows that.”
He propped himself up on one elbow, pushing his head and shoulders above the leafy row of plants. He stared at her thoughtfully and gave a slow smile.
Catriona folded her arms tight across her chest. “Ye hate yer position, don’t ye? Yet some would die to be where ye are. To have the power ye have.”
He blinked, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Careful, Catriona chided herself, turning aside abruptly and snatching up her basket. Kenneth wants ye to keep an eye on him, to keep him busy. Can’t do that if he doesn’t like ye anymore.
She moved towards a stone wall circling the edge of the gardens. The turnips grew alongside; she’d start there.
There was a rustling from behind her, and she heard footsteps thumping.
“Some people would die to be in a position like me,” Niall repeated thoughtfully. “Do ye mean yerself, lass? Do ye dream of being a lady?”
I already am a lady, she wanted to scream at him. Lady Catriona of Keep MacAlpin.
Instead, she bit down on the inside of her cheek, setting down the basket. When she straightened up again, Niall was directly behind her. Close, too close.
“There’s lots of ways to become a lady,” he murmured, that grin lingering around his lips again.
He leaned forward, close enough that the tip of his nose was barely inches from hers. He smelled green and earthy, fresh like crushed herbs. And mint, why did he smell so cleanly of mint?
Swallowing, Catriona tried to move back, but her shoulders brushed against the rough, cold stone.
“What does that mean?” she managed.
“Well, do ye intend to seduce me? That would make ye a lady if ye married a laird. Or pretended to wed one, at least.”
“Ye aren’t a laird yet,” she shot back, lifting her chin. “I’d be obliged if ye would step back.”
When he didn’t immediately move, she placed her hands on his firm chest and shoved, hard. He staggered back a step or two, but she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he’d moved back because he chose to, not because he had to.
He chuckled. “Oh, aye, I forgot. It’s not me ye like, is it? Ye would want to go straight to my cousin Kenneth. Got a nose for power, have ye, lassie?”
“No. And ye are mistaken.”
“Mistaken? About what?”
“About me. About yer cousin. About everything.”
He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. “Well, ye certainly would be wasting yer time to chase after Kenneth. Although I’ve been wrongabout him before . Maybe ye are just his type, after all, eh?”
“I have chores to do,” Catriona insisted, refusing to allow herself to shuffle away.
If she picked up her basket and scrambled towards the kitchens, he would probably not follow her. But wouldn’t that be weakness, backing away?
He’d win. I’m not letting him win.
“Oh, aye, yer chores,” he chuckled. “Do ye plan to impress Kenneth by being dutiful? He’s a wee stickler for the rules, fair enough, but it’s power that impresses him.”
“Aye, he has plenty of power,” she snapped back, unable to keep her temper from rising.
It coiled inside her, mingling with a heavy, prickling feeling that she couldn’t quite control. A feeling which she did not quite understand.
“Because he keeps his power and cherishes it, whereas ye are simply giving yers away.”
Niall blinked, a brief expression of dismay and anger flitting across his face.
I struck a nerve, Catriona thought, swallowing.
Abruptly, she turned away, shouldering past him. The cook would be beyond furious if Catriona returned without the vegetables, but even her rage was better than staying where she was and meeting Niall’s cold, angry eyes.
She strode away across the vegetable patches and felt Niall’s eyes on her all the way.