Chapter 24
The next morning, Ceana decided to focus on her duties for once.
Mairi had informed her about the renovations needed for the grain stores, and she had thought they were minor. Now that she was in the room, she realized she was wrong.
She pressed two fingers against the darkened side of the grain sack. The coarse weave gave beneath them, and when she drew her hand back, moisture shone across her fingertips. A water drop fell from the loosened roof boards and struck the floor beside her shoe.
“Four sacks nearest the wall have taken water,” Mairi said. “The rest remain dry.”
Two porters stood beside an empty handcart, waiting.
The master carpenter pointed toward the opening overhead.
“It needs seasoned timber, me Lady. The sound lengths we have are set aside for the practice frame. We have had little spare since men and material went to the repairs after the attack on Morrag.”
Mairi held the household tally open between both hands. “Which work is to have it, me Lady?”
Ceana wiped her fingers on a cloth and faced the carpenter. “Can the damaged frame be closed safely?”
“Aye. Rope around it will keep the men off until fresh timber comes.”
“And if this roof takes another night of rain?”
“The gap may widen, and more of the grain will be wet by mornin’.”
Ceana took the tally from Mairi. The next delivery was marked clearly, along with the quantity still held in the inner stores.
“The practice frame can wait. The stores cannae. Rope it off, bring the timber here, and move every dry sack before another drop reaches it.”
Mairi turned to the porters. “Load the dry sacks and take them to the inner stores. Keep the four damp ones apart.”
The men bent to their work. Before Ceana had marked the change beside the repair entry, the first sack thudded onto the cart. The carpenter strode into the courtyard, calling for his men as he went.
“Will the sound grain carry us to the next delivery?” she asked.
“It will,” Mairi said. “With some to spare.”
Ceana initialed the entry.
Mairi took back the list and moved after the porters, directing them toward the inner door. Through the open entrance, Ceana saw rope being drawn around the damaged practice frame. Two men lifted the reserved timber from the yard and started across the wet stones.
Oscar appeared behind them. He had left training without changing. Sweat darkened the collar of his tunic, and leather guards still covered his forearms. Fresh abrasions crossed his knuckles.
Heat coiled low in Ceana’s belly. She remembered those long fingers spread across her thighs, holding her open while his mouth coaxed loud screams from her. Her hand closed around the cloth she had used to wipe her fingers.
Oscar spotted her at once. His gaze dropped to the list resting in Mairi’s hands, then returned to Ceana’s mouth as she thanked the carpenter, who had come back to indicate where the first length would be set. The man finished answering her before he turned.
“Me Laird.”
Oscar acknowledged him with a nod before looking toward the men crossing the yard.
“Me Laird,” Ceana said.
“Why is the practice frame closed?”
“The grain-store roof is leakin’. Four sacks are damp, and another rain may reach the rest. I have redirected the seasoned timber there.”
She kept her hands loosely folded, the cloth still in her palm.
“Can the frame stay out of use? I daenae want Tommy findin’ his way here.”
“It has been cordoned off, and replacement timber has already been added to the next order.”
Oscar glanced through the doorway. The rope was secured, and the first timbers had reached the store wall. The men continued working under Ceana’s orders.
“When will the roof be secure?”
“The carpenter expects it finished before the next rain.”
Mairi led the last porter out with the remaining dry sacks. The carpenter followed, leaving Ceana and Oscar on opposite sides of the ledger table. It was narrow enough that Oscar could have reached for her without leaning. Ceana kept her fingers on its scarred edge anyway.
His gaze roved over her face and stopped beneath her eyes. “Ye left the warm milk untouched again.”
Her thumb ceased tracing the wood. The maid who collected the cup at first light had carried it past his chamber to reach the stairs.
“And ye crossed the passage before dawn.”
“I went to train.”
Ceana looked down at the split skin across his knuckles. “I can see.”
When she raised her eyes, his gaze had returned to her mouth. His fingers curled beside his thigh, drawing the leather guard tight across his wrist.
At that moment, a porter called for Mairi from the courtyard.
Ceana reached for the ledger and turned it back to the completed repair entry. “Do ye require anythin’ further concernin’ the stores?”
Oscar held her gaze for another breath. “Nay.”
“Then ye can go, me Laird.”
His jaw tensed before he turned and walked out. Ceana watched until he disappeared from view.
Outside, the carpenter called the lift, and the first timber rose from the courtyard in the hands of four men. Ceana opened the ledger, set her finger beneath the next entry, and returned to her work.
Later at noon, she found herself helping Muriel. She drew a piece of twine tight around a packet of dried yarrow while Muriel checked the label. She passed over the smaller jar before Muriel asked and cut another length from the spool.
Muriel glanced at the jar and gave her a private smile. They had worked together often enough that they barely needed to speak.
A sealed response to the inquiry regarding Muriel’s marriage lay beside the herb ledger, the seal unbroken. Ceana moved Muriel’s cup and the finished herb packets away from it.
“Thank ye,” Muriel said quietly.
Paisley sat near the fireplace with a book open on her knees. Across the room, Oscar attended to correspondence at the table. When Ceana looked up, she found him staring at her hands. His gaze rose to meet hers before he returned to the letter before him.
Tommy waited until Mairi had set down the tea tray and every adult had settled before dragging a low stool to the center of the room and climbing onto it with a rolled sheet beneath one arm.
Planting his feet apart, he tucked his free hand behind his back in imitation of Oscar addressing the council.
Dear God, what mischief is the boy up to this time?
“I have prepared a treasure hunt.”
Ceana set down the spool. “Have ye now?”
“Aye.”
She wiped her hands on the front of her dress. “Well then, I hope ye have made it difficult. I have a reputation to uphold.”
His grin widened. “Only I ken where the treasure is. If nobody finds it by the end of the day, I may keep it.”
“How convenient. A rule written entirely for yer own benefit.” She leaned one elbow on the table. “What treasure has inspired such generosity?”
Tommy lifted his chin. “Faither’s signet ring!”
Oscar’s quill paused above the page. His gaze dropped to the bare index finger of his right hand, then flicked to his son. “Thomas.”
Tommy straightened on the stool, though his shoulders hunched slightly.
“The signet ring isnae a toy,” Oscar chided. His level voice made Tommy draw the map closer to his chest. “Where did ye find it?”
“On the desk in yer study. Ye had finished usin’ it.”
“And ye took it without askin’?”
Tommy’s toes curled over the edge of the stool. “Well, it makes excellent treasure because ye just said it is important.”
Ceana pressed her lips together. The reasoning belonged wholly to a five-year-old.
Oscar laid down the quill. “Takin’ what isnae yers without permission is theft, even when ye mean to use it for a game. Ye will never take the ring again unless I have given ye leave. Do ye understand?”
“Aye, Faither.” Tommy looked down at the roll beneath his arm. “I promise.”
Mairi spoke from beside the tea tray. “He showed me where he put it, me Laird. The ring is wrapped in wool and secure. I can fetch it if ye need it.”
Oscar studied her as she adjusted the teapot, meeting his scrutiny calmly. However, before he could answer, the door opened. Lennan entered with several folded papers tucked beneath his arm.
“A rider leaves before dusk,” he said. “These need yer seal before he goes.”
Tommy looked at his father with renewed confidence. “Ye had better start lookin’.”
Ceana laughed.
Oscar turned toward her, his correspondence forgotten. His eyes lingered on her smile. For six weeks, she had given him as much courtesy as was required. In fact, she kept the smile as Tommy beamed at her.
Tommy jumped down and unrolled the map across the herb packets.
The paper curled toward his wrists, so Ceana caught one edge, while he weighed the other with a herb jar.
Paisley’s careful handwriting filled the space beside the drawings.
A green-brown stain marked one corner, and an inner passage had been drawn in a way Tommy could never have managed.
Ceana looked at Paisley, who bent over her book with sudden interest.
Oh, so that is how it is, is it nae?
Muriel sorted the packet Ceana had just tied. Oscar’s gaze traveled from the handwriting to the stain, then settled on Mairi, who was pouring tea.
“Ye may nae ask me for help,” Tommy announced. “And there could be nay more than two people per team.”
Ceana studied the first folded clue. “Then I intend to win.”
She heard Oscar’s breath catch softly and looked up. His attention had left the map. The tight line of his mouth softened as he watched her, and his hand closed slowly around the edge of the table.
Ceana turned to Paisley. “Will ye join me?”
Paisley glanced toward Oscar. “I cannae. I must see what Ness is doin’.”
Beyond the window, Ness stood beside a stable boy with her lead looped securely around the boy’s wrist. The goat was attempting to eat a broom.
“Aye. That looks urgent,” Ceana said.
Paisley gathered her book so quickly that a loose sheet slid from between its pages. She snatched it up, gave Ceana an apologetic smile, and left.
Ceana faced Muriel. “Shall we make a team?”
“I must gather herbs and leaves before the light fades.” Muriel rose beside a basket already filled to the brim. She gathered the ledger and the sealed reply, which slipped from beneath it.
Ceana caught the letter before it touched the floor. When she handed it back, Muriel’s fingers closed around hers for an instant.
“Thank ye,” Muriel murmured.
“I should hate for yer herbs to be delayed.”
The corner of her mouth lifted, and she left before Ceana could put another question to her.
Mairi set down the teapot. “I must inspect the repaired roof before the evenin’ meal.”
Lennan gathered his papers. “And I have a rider to prepare.”
Tommy darted after Paisley, calling that no one would persuade him to reveal another clue. Their steps soon faded beyond the door.
Ceana remained at one side of the table while Oscar approached the other. The map lay between them, held flat by the herb jar.
“If I am goin’ to have me signet ring returned before Lennan’s rider leaves,” Oscar said, “we must play together.”
“I am willin’ to help recover clan property, me Laird.”
His hand stopped above the map, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “We’re alone; ye daenae have to be formal.”
“Well, I am only doin’ what ye asked me to do, remember?”
“Ceana.” His voice was low.
He held her gaze, shoulders squared across the narrow table, and offered no other words.
They reached for the map at the same moment, and their hands paused with scarcely an inch between them. Oscar looked from her hand to her face. His breathing deepened, pressing his chest against his shirt. He took the opposite edge of the map and held it there.
Ceana unfolded the first clue and pressed down the narrow strip of paper. Paisley’s neat letters carried Tommy’s blunt instruction.
“Begin where Ceana made Faither agree to her terms. Find the oldest MacKane marriage contract.”
“So… the study?” she asked.
“The oldest contracts fill half a chest.” Oscar lifted the edge of the map. “Tommy has chosen an inconveniently large collection.”
“I expect to find the right one before ye finish complainin’.”
The corner of his mouth curved despite his narrowed eyes.
Ceana took the opposite edge of the map, and they both crossed the room. Their shoulders drew close in the doorway. At the first bend in the passage, his sleeve brushed hers, but she said nothing about it. If they were going to get through this together, they needed to be quick about it.