“My son James is a good shot with a bow. He’s our best hunter.”
“Then I’ll welcome him along. Gather your best. I want you and Arlen and whomever you choose to accompany us. We leave immediately.”
Simon nodded and started to turn away but then paused. He took a breath as if he debated what he wanted to say.
“Speak,” Caelen ordered. “ ’Tis obvious you have something you want to get off your chest.”
“Try to have patience with the lass. Her ways are all she’s ever known. She has a good and fierce heart.”
Caelen frowned. It irritated him to receive advice at every turn for how to handle his wife. Even his brother had offered his opinion on the matter after marrying another woman. But then Alaric fancied himself an expert on women.
“What the lass needs is a firm hand. She’s been allowed to run wild for far too long.”
A few snickers went up from the crowd. Even Simon grinned as if they all shared some secret amusement.
“Then I’ll wish you luck, Laird. Something tells me you’re going to need it.”
CHAPTER 14
Rionna stood in the window of the guard tower and stared over the snowy landscape. It had been three days since the hunting party had departed and there was still no sign of their return.
On the first evening, one of the younger warriors had returned with a fine stag. He bore Caelen’s instructions for the meat to be dressed, stored, and properly cured with a generous portion to be prepared immediately for the women and children to eat.
The rest of the party was remaining on the hunt until they killed enough game to refill the larders.
She watched the men below training to Caelen’s specifications. For three days she’d held out against the temptation to join in the exercises. Instead she’d remained indoors and listened to endless instructions about the preservation of meat, how to properly stock a larder, cleaning schedules, not to mention sleep-inducing lectures on proper etiquette for ladies and how to greet and be hospitable to important guests.
As if they ever had important guests at McDonald keep.
It was apparent that her husband wasn’t returning this day, and there were several hours of daylight yet. She fairly itched to be down in the courtyard where she could vent her frustration with a good sword fight.
The problem was Sarah would have no compunction about ratting her out to her husband. Which meant she’d have to sneak to the courtyard after telling Sarah that she was retiring to her chamber.
She turned, wrapping her cloak tighter around her as she began the descent from the tower. At the bottom, she was met by one of the serving women that Sarah had no doubt set to monitor her whereabouts.
“I’m going to retire to my chamber,” Rionna said in a low voice.
“Are you not feeling well, my lady?”
Rionna smiled at the woman not much older than herself. “I’m fine, Beatrice. I’m just a little tired.”
Beatrice smiled knowingly. “You’re not sleeping well since the laird’s departure. He’ll be home soon, my lady, and with meat to take us through the winter.”
Rionna smiled faintly as she turned toward the stairs up to the chamber she shared with Caelen. While the men were not as accepting yet of Caelen as their laird, the women of the keep suffered no such hesitancy. Whatever he’d done, he’d inspired confidence in the female members of her clan. They all accepted that he’d see them through their difficulties and restore their larders and their might.
Rionna supposed that if he did, indeed, accomplish all that, she should be well content with her marriage.
Should be.
When she entered the chamber where she’d slept alone three nights past, she marveled at the mark her husband had already left on the room. It wasn’t as though he had a lot of things. Indeed, he’d packed very sparsely for his journey from his former home.
But whereas the chamber had been barren and nondescript before, it now felt masculine, as if he’d breathed his very essence into the small space.
The furs he’d brought from McCabe keep covered the bed. Luxurious, thick furs that she’d already grown accustomed to sleeping beneath at night. Even the furs covering the windows had been replaced by his own.
There was a small table with a chair by the fire that housed his scrolls and quill and ink. They roused her curiosity. She’d love to know what was contained in the scrolls, but she hadn’t the ability to read. The fact that her husband was so learned surprised and intrigued her.
Caelen had many hidden depths, which she hadn’t even begun to plumb. He’d certainly shut himself off from others, only allowing people to see what he so chose. It was frustrating for her because she desperately wanted to know everything there was to know about the man she’d married.
She went to the chest that housed the dresses the women had fashioned for her. She stretched her hand behind it, in the small space between it and the wall, and pulled out the tunic and trews she’d hidden there.
The material slid lovingly over her fingers. Worn but comfortable. Familiar. Anticipation tugged relentlessly at her until she hurriedly stripped the dress from her body and began pulling on the tunic.
When she was dressed, she pulled her boots from the corner where they’d rested ever since they’re arrived back on McDonald land. First she pulled on her precious stockings and then the boots over them.
The stockings made the boots a bit snug, but they weren’t uncomfortable. More important, her feet were warm.
She practically danced to the wall where Caelen had hung her sword. She was grateful he hadn’t had it melted down for armor. ’Twas a sin to abuse so fine a weapon.