The Eternal Highlander (20 page)

Connall MacAdie was a well-respected clan chief. He had earned his people’s trust and was even liked by them. Eva had heard several examples of his fairness in judgment and skill in battle just by listening to those around her and it was becoming obvious that he was considered a fair and just man. He definitely wasn’t feared as an abusive lord would be and Eva was relatively certain that he would be a good husband.

Aye, this wedding was much different from her first. This time Eva did not experience trepidation for the future. She was sure all would be well.

“All will be well.”

It was only when Ewan leaned forward and murmured “What will be well?” that Connall realized that he had spoken the reassurance to himself aloud.

“Everything,” he answered vaguely, ignoring the curious look his brother-in-law cast him.

“Should the MacNachton no be here?”

Connall sighed at this question, knowing it was one he couldn’t ignore. “Aye. Mayhap, but I didna think o’ that until I was dressing fer the weddin’,” he admitted, then shrugged. “But I hadnae really intended on this wedding originally; it was Magaidh who suggested it and I only agreed when she pointed out that it would allow all to know and recognize their lady.”

“Hmm.” Ewan nodded, then said, “Tis a much nicer weddin’ than the one in England.”

Connall raised an eyebrow at this comment and the man shrugged.

“Twas a rushed, businesslike affair. Caxton acted as if he feared I would change me mind on yer behalf and insisted on it being held at once. He rushed us oot to the chapel ere the ink had dried on the paper. It was rather unseemly to me and ’twas obvious Lady Eva was upset and embarrassed, but as ye’d said to get it done and get back quick as possible, I didnae argue.” He shook his head at the memory. “I was dusty from travel, without e’en the opportunity to pat me plaid down, and she wore a faded grey gown she’d obviously donned that morn to work around the castle, but we stood before the priest as he mumbled a few incomprehensible words in Latin, then ’twas done.” His gaze slid to Eva. “This should please her much more.”

Connall followed his gaze to his wife. She looked lovely and—while she was not exactly smiling, there was a peaceful look on her face, an acceptance and perhaps even a quiet pleasure that suggested to him that perhaps Ewan was right and Eva was pleased. He hadn’t considered whether or not she would be pleased when he’d agreed to his mother’s suggestion, but was now glad if she was. Connall had spent little enough time with the woman up to now, but he was kept abreast of her daily activities and had listened carefully to what his people did and did not say when giving their reports. They all seemed to accept her with relative ease, no one saying anything to suggest otherwise. All were impressed with how she had handled herself so far, and even her effort with the furs was seen as merely a misguided attempt to make a place for herself. The only criticism anyone could find was that she seemed somewhat clumsy by nature, but even then they admired what they considered to be her courage and strength in the face of adversity. She wasn’t what they considered to be the typical whingeing Englishwoman they had expected, and that seemed to impress them more than anything else.

Aye, all would be well…So long as she took the news he had to impart to her without horror or hysterics. Connall grimaced to himself at that thought. He would have to tell her of his origins eventually and wasn’t looking forward to the task because he wasn’t sure how she would take it, or even how he was to approach the subject. But she would have to be told. Connall felt sure it would be better to explain it himself in calm, reasonable tones than to have her find out on her own and perhaps flee in terror. He would give her a little more time to adjust before he did though, Connall decided and was relieved to have the excuse to put it off.

Eva finally reached the chapel steps and mounted them to join Connall, Ewan, and the priest. Connall gave her a slight nod, then made an effort at a smile, though he felt so tense—a sensation he wasn’t at all used to—that he suspected it looked more like a grimace. Giving up on the effort, he urged her around on the top step so that they stood side by side, facing Father MacLure, then he gave a start of surprise when he felt Eva slip her small, uninjured hand into his and squeeze it gently. Connall immediately felt the tension slip from his shoulders at that trusting action. Aye, all would be well.

Eva was quite sure that the wedding at Caxton had not taken nearly as long as this one was and was positive it was because Father MacLure was overfond of the sound of his own voice. Unfortunately, the man did not have a very expressive speaking voice and his monotonous diatribe encouraged her mind to wander. Eva had caught herself wandering several times now and each time had forced her thoughts back to the ceremony and what he was saying, but eventually she gave in and let her thoughts drift. Her mind wandered first to wondering what Cook had managed to prepare for the feast that was to follow the ceremony. She knew that Effie had been working for days on the repast and had no doubt that she would have come up with something special. Whatever it was, there was no doubt it would be tasty, the woman had yet to serve anything that wasn’t absolutely delicious.

From that subject, Eva’s mind naturally wandered to what would follow the feast…the bedding. The very thought of it made her start to tense up again.

Despite the fact that her parents had both died when she was barely nine, and she’d had no mother to educate her in these matters, Eva was not ignorant on the subject of men and women. Mavis had seen to that. The girl spent most of her time working in the kitchens when not pressed into service as her lady’s maid, so it was in the kitchen with the rest of the servants that she slept, though she occasionally had slept in the great hall if Cook was in a mood. Sleeping there with all the rest of the servants, Mavis had seen—and eagerly recounted to Eva—much of what went on between a man and woman—at least among the servant class.

The maid had described it as a sort of wrestling match that ended when the man took his pillock, “rather like a large boiled sausage,” she had described it, and stuck it up between the woman’s legs. Eva had never fancied the idea of having a boiled sausage shoved up between her legs and found her feet shifting together to press her thighs more tightly closed as she stood before the mumbling priest. Then her gaze dropped to the side of its own accord, to peer at the point where her husband’s boiled sausage would be.

Although he normally wore his plaid, or had since she’d arrived, today Connall had chosen to wear the outfit she had seen him in at court for their wedding; a fine dark blue doublet and white hose. Eva was flattered that he had troubled himself to dress up for the occasion, but it meant that his figure was now rather on view and her eyes widened in alarm at the size of the bulge visible beneath the hose. Mavis had said that the bigger the bulge, the bigger the boiled sausage, and her husband appeared quite huge to her. Not that she had ever before seen a man’s sausage or troubled to notice the size of their bulge, but Connall’s bulge looked rather large to her anxious eyes.

Eva squeezed her thighs a little tighter closed as she tried to imagine him wrestling her to the bed and assaulting her with his sausage.

“Eva?”

She jerked her gaze guiltily up to his eyes, thinking she had been caught rudely staring at his sausage, but the expectant expression on his face and the way he nodded toward the priest, who was also eyeing her expectantly, made her realize she had missed something.

“Do you?” Father MacLure prompted at last and Eva understood and stammered “I do.” When the good father nodded and began to speak again, she couldn’t stop her eyes from sliding down and to the side to look her husband over again.

As she stared at the bulge that she was almost positive was growing under her gaze, Eva briefly considered if it would not have been wiser to have said “nay” rather than “I do,” then immediately began to remonstrate with herself. Did she wish to go to the abbey and be a nun? For that’s what would have happened had she said nay to the vows. And really, everything else here was so nice and pleasant; she no longer left the table hungry because she ate as little as possible to keep from angering her brother, she no longer worked herself to the point of exhaustion in an effort to be as little of a burden as possible, and the people here were all so nice to her. Surely she could manage to forbear the sausage stuffing?

Eva grimaced at her own choice of words. Sausage stuffing? It made her sound like a fowl being prepared for supper.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Eva glanced up with surprise at those words. Was the ceremony finally over? The priest’s words and the fact that Connall was turning her toward him as his face lowered to hers, seemed a good indication that it was. Eva squeezed her eyes closed and waited for his kiss, wondering what it would be like, then opened them with surprise when his lips rubbed gently and sweetly over her own. She rather liked it…and found herself arching up on her tiptoe to press her own mouth more firmly against his, but he was already straightening again.

Embarrassed at her own response to her husband, Eva took a step back to put some space between them as the crowd in the bailey began to cheer. It was only as she set her foot down in midair that she recalled she was standing on stairs. In the next moment, she found herself tumbling down the church steps to the accompaniment of several alarmed and startled shouts and shrieks.

Eva put her sewing down with a little sigh, then raised her face to the sunlight and closed her eyes. It was very peaceful here in the gardens and she was glad Glynis had insisted that she come out and sit on a fur in the sun to sew. The maid had proven herself to be a treasure and without her cheerful chatter and care, Eva didn’t think she could have maintained her wits this last week since the wedding.

A pained expression flickered across her face at the thought of her wedding day. The ceremony had been beautiful, and the feast splendid, Effie had—as expected—outdone herself. Unfortunately, Eva only knew this from what others had told her, she herself hadn’t been in attendance at the wedding feast, she’d been unconscious in bed having several new scrapes and bruises—gained from her tumble down the chapel steps—tended to by Magaidh and Aileen.

Heaving a sigh, Eva opened her eyes again and glanced down at the dress that lay on her lap. Her gaze automatically moved from there to consider each of her injuries to date. Her hand was much healed from the dog bite and a scab was all that was left, so she’d taken the bandages off the day before yesterday to allow it to dry and heal. Her arms were a patchwork of varying shades of bruises, from a dull blue to yellow, though the scrapes there were healed. Her legs looked much the same, she knew, but at least her ankle, which she had wrenched again in the fall, was almost as good as new again, twingeing only when she forgot it and turned too quickly. Eva knew she’d been lucky that she hadn’t broken anything in that fall, but the injuries she’d had were enough in her mind, as they had seen her wedding night put off yet again. To Eva, it was rather like putting off a tooth-pulling, the anticipation was an agony to suffer. She would rather have the deed done.

That would happen soon enough, she supposed. There had been no further accidents since the wedding to hamper her recovery, and physically she was almost back to normal. Otherwise, however, she was a mess. Eva felt as if she had ruined everything. Oh, everyone here was still as kind to her as could be, but they now treated her either like fragile glass…or an idiot. She was not allowed to lift anything above the weight of a thimble, and was not allowed to carry anything at all when she walked. These were her husband’s orders. He had also ordered that two men were to accompany her at all times to ensure that the orders were carried out. Eva felt the usual indignation rise up in her at the thought that she had watchers…like the veriest of children who could not be trusted to play without setting themselves in danger’s way.

Her resentful gaze shifted to her present watchers and away again; Donaidh and Geordan were relaxing against the garden wall, talking idly. They would remain there so long as she remained where she was sitting, but if Eva shifted the dress from her lap and start to rise, they would be on either side of her, taking an arm to help her up lest she stumble and fall and hurt herself again.

Aye, she was now the village idiot.

Her gaze slid back to the dress she had been working on. A confection in blues, it was another of the new gowns for her fine new wardrobe. Magaidh and Connall had insisted she should have several, and half a dozen maids had been set to the task of creating them. Eva was helping, or supposed to be helping, by hemming the skirt of the gown across her lap, but she wasn’t really in the mood for sewing this afternoon. Instead, she thought she might prefer a good cry, but of course, that was impossible with Donaidh and Geordan hovering nearby.

Eva heaved another sigh as her gaze wandered to the two men who were acting as her guards today. They would remain with her until the sun set and her husband arrived for his supper. She had learned a lot more about the workings of the castle during the past week. The men were not always discreet when she was about and she often overheard their conversations, enough to know that her husband was not off attending to business during the day as she had first been told, but that he was resting away from the sun. His sun reaction made it so that he avoided attending to clan business during the day and left that in Ewan’s capable hands. Connall took over the chore from the moment the sun set until it rose again in the morning.

Eva had at first thought that Ewan must then have the heavier burden when it came to running the keep, but had since come to the conclusion that this was not so. It seemed Connall and his sister weren’t the only MacAdies troubled with a negative reaction to the sun. By her estimate, at least half the people here were and they too rested during the day, coming out at night to accomplish what most would do during the day in any other castle, which meant MacAdie was as busy, if not busier at night than it was during the day.

Eva had also learned that her husband led raiding parties at night, though she had endeavored to ignore this information and had stopped listening to that particular conversation once she’d understood what the men were talking about. Such things as night raids on neighbors were frowned on by the English, though she knew ’twas common enough in Scotland. Not approving of her husband’s activities, Eva simply didn’t wish to know about them, so closed off her attention when the men spoke about such things, but she had learned enough to know that Connall was kept busy from dusk till dawn.

Well, not the entire time, she supposed. The men stopped watching her when Connall made his appearance, because he took over the task himself. The man who had been absent for the first several days after her arrival, had taken to spending time with Eva now that they were wed. He joined her to sit at the trestle table for supper, though he often got distracted with the reports the men were giving and didn’t eat as much as she felt he should. Sometimes there was business that needed tending to right away; if it was something that took him out of the keep, he would set two men to guard her until he could return. If it was simply a meeting he needed to have, he would suggest she sit by the fire and he would join her there shortly. Either way, he always joined her for a couple of hours at night, often to play chess with her.

Eva had hoped to redeem herself with her abilities in chess. Her father had taught her the game when she was quite young and she had played it with her older sister, Lynette, until Lynny, who had been as dowerless as herself, had been sent off to the abbey. While she had not played in the two years since Lynette became a bride of God, Eva had managed to retain her skill and had even beaten her husband a time or two. However, while he claimed to be impressed by her intellect, nothing had seemed to change his mind about her ability to look after herself without guards to watch over her.

The sun went behind a cloud and Eva stirred where she sat. It was getting late, the sun was following its downward path and would set soon. She supposed she should go inside, put the dress away, and prepare for supper.

“If we’re finished, I think I’ll go to see my wife,” Ewan announced.

Connall nodded and glanced toward the great hall fire as the other man stood and departed. Eva was curled up in a chair before the roaring blaze, sewing as she waited for him to finish his meeting with Ewan and join her as had become his habit since the wedding. Connall had found his gaze wandering to her several times as he had listened to Ewan’s report and had noticed that Eva drew herself a little tighter into a ball each time the keep door opened. It was wet and blustery tonight, with a chill that he hadn’t really noticed until he’d noted Eva’s shrinking from it. He wasn’t bothered much by cold, but it seemed as if his wife was.

Standing as she paused in her sewing to chafe some warmth into her arms, Connall moved to her chair and held out his hand. “Come, we’ll play chess in our room tonight. Twill be warmer there by the fire without the breeze blowing in ever’ few minutes.”

Eva smiled her relief at his suggestion and took his hand to rise, commenting, “Tis growing cool at night.”

“Aye. Summer is coming to a close, the nights grow longer, the days shorter, and the air chill,” Connall said as he gestured one of the houseboys over to collect the chess game. He himself took the gown from her hands, freeing her to hold her skirt up as they mounted the stairs. He didn’t miss the exasperated little sigh she gave at his thoughtfulness, but ignored it, knowing she was feeling that they all thought her incompetent. Connall didn’t bother to explain that it was just a precaution until she was on her feet again and knew her new home well enough that—even should she be distracted—she would not thoughtlessly go tumbling down a set of stairs or bang into something. With a little time here, Eva would get to know everyone and all the nooks and crannies of the house so that she would be in less danger.

At least from common accidents, Connall thought, with a frown. There had been another attempt on his life the night before last. It was the third attempt in the last year since the trouble had started. Connall had been riding with the men on the way to a raid when an arrow had sailed through the darkness, narrowly missing him but hitting the man riding next to him. It had been a flesh wound in the arm and quickly healed, but the incident was bothersome for two reasons: One was that the attacker had made the attempt in the open, at night, when Connall was surrounded by his Nightriders who had, as one would expect, immediately spread out and begun to search the woods. The fellow had been extremely lucky and escaped capture. Extremely lucky, as most of the men with him had a nocturnal predator’s night vision, which was what bothered Connall: If the attacker knew anything about them and had still attacked under such risky circumstances, then he was obviously growing desperate, and desperate men were unpredictable.

The other reason the incident worried Connall was that someone else had been injured. This time it had been just a flesh wound and had healed quickly as was the wont of their sort, but what if he had been riding with Eva? What if she had been the one to take the arrow meant for him? And what if it had struck her heart rather than her arm?

That didn’t bear thinking about, Connall decided, and admitted to himself that he had become a tad attached to the woman in the last week or so. He found he enjoyed their evenings by the fire. Eva was intelligent and amusing and as charming as she was lovely, and the matter-of-fact way she spoke of what he considered to be an atrocious childhood after her parents’ death, touched him in a way that the tale of her brother’s cold and uncaring behavior would not have affected him had she told it with a self-pitying attitude. But that wasn’t her attitude. Eva appeared to be philosophical about it, and accepted it as her lot in life, even considering herself lucky. It could have been worse, she said, with a simple shrug, and he could not but admire that…And admire her.

His gaze slid to her as she led the way up the hall to her chamber, and dropped down to her behind and the way the cloth of her gown covering it moved with each step. Connall had put off consummating the marriage after the injuries from her fall, but he was thinking that she appeared well healed now, well enough perhaps to become his wife in deed as well as law.

Glynis had already tended to the fire, Eva saw as they entered the room, and it had obviously been burning for a while, for the chamber was notably warmer than the great hall. The girl seemed always to be thinking ahead and looking after such details. It was wonderful having her assistance. Eva hadn’t realized what she had been missing in not having a lady’s maid all these years, but truly appreciated the many small things the girl did and made a mental note to thank her in the morning.

She found herself oddly nervous as she led the way to the chairs by the fire. Eva had played chess with her husband many times the last week, but this time somehow seemed different. For one thing, her chamber was much smaller than the great hall, and Eva was very aware that it was her sleeping chamber, as well as terribly conscious of the large bed at the other end of it, and the fact that they had yet to consummate the marriage. She knew that Connall had been considerate in letting her heal after her last accident on the steps after the wedding, but while she appreciated it, it left her in a constant state of anxiety as to exactly when he would decide she was healed enough to approach her. In truth, Eva had been growing increasingly anxious with each passing day, until tonight, the anxiety was like a band around her stomach, tightening with every step she took.

Oh, this is awful, she decided, and thought that perhaps she should turn and tell him to get the business over with. Stopping by the chairs, Eva turned to face him, opened her mouth to speak, then closed it abruptly as she caught sight of the houseboy carrying the chess game. She’d completely forgotten about the lad. Completely. Biting her lip, she dropped into the nearest chair and sat silent as one of the chests that held her new gowns was dragged between the two chairs and the game was set out on it.

Connall thanked the lad for his aid, then asked him to have Cook send someone up with wine for both of them.

Once the boy had left, Eva cleared her throat and eyed her husband. “My lord, I appreciate your kindness since arriving; first with holding a proper wedding once I arrived, then in…er…postponing the…er…consummation of the wedding until I had recovered,” she stammered, aware that she was blushing furiously. She hadn’t really considered how distressing this conversation would be before starting it, but now that she was well into it, there was nothing to do but finish it.

Clearing her throat, she straightened her shoulders and marshalled on, “But really, my lord, ’tis a nerve-wracking situation and I would…well…If we could get it over?”

Connall stared at her blankly, clearly taken completely by surprise at this outburst, then he frowned and echoed, “Get it over?”