Page 34 of Her Highlander's Darkest Temptation
“My uncle did not permit idleness, though he took pains to ensure that I was as… unmarked… as possible. He wanted me to be pretty and obedient so that he could demand more value for me. And at least talented enough to look like a prize, even if he permitted me to know nothing of value for making my way in the world.”
“An’ after ye fled?”
“I was frightened. My uncle had taught me not to question, but I had - and still have, at times - so little idea of how things are done. Elswith often completed the tasks I was assigned for me, so I would not look laggardly, and at the time I was grateful. I did not realize her kindness would prove my downfall until I fled with the caravan, and she could not come with me.”
“Sounds difficult.”
“It was. I wish with all my heart that she could have come with me, but at the same time, it is a relief to finally be learning everything I should have known before. And… it is very strange. I never imagined I would have such responsibilities and duties. Nor that I would be so content… or feel so free.”
Laird Ranald chuckled. “Freedom as a servant… ye are a strange one. Mayhap one day, ye’ll even tell me what yer last name might be.”
“Mayhap, my laird… but not tonight.” Lydia smiled and bent to take his plate away to wash.
When she looked back, Laird Ranald was gone. Lydia sighed, then finished tidying the kitchen. She had no idea if she had made her own situation better or worse, and no one to ask.
She wished Elswith were there to ask for advice. Laird Ranald was asking questions, and she was now apprenticed to Evelyn, who was no fool
Also, she could not decide what to make of Laird Ranald. He was cold at times, gentle and courteous at others. He seemed aloof, but then he was kind. And the story he told… she was certain there was much more to it, but even so, she could at least understand why the seamstress in the village had said he had been through much.
Even as little as Laird Ranald had told her made her heart ache. It had made her want to console him, find some way to help him. It was clear that his memories troubled him and disturbed his rest. The way he’d told his story, the haunted look in his eyes, spoke of deep wounds that cut to the very soul of him. Despite her precarious position, Lydia wanted to help him.
With a sigh, Lydia shook her head, then moved to tidy up the last of the food and utensils. She was being foolish, to thinkthere was anything she could do - especially considering her own situation. For now, it was best that she return to her bed and get what rest she could, in preparation for the next day’s work.
There was no telling what it would bring, but Lydia was determined to put forth her best effort for as long as it proved possible for her to remain at Ranald Keep.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
By the time Donall made his way down to the Great Hall the next day, the morning was half-gone, and the skies were a heavy, overcast gray that left his mood feeling as leaden as the clouds overhead. He’d managed to gain another candle-mark or two of sleep, but he still felt exhausted and ready to curl up in the darkness of his bedchamber for a fortnight or so.
Lydia was waiting for him, a tray with his morning meal in her hands. Corvin was hovering nearby, his expression troubled. Donall sighed as he dropped into his chair. “What is it?”
“Me laird, Master Ewan an’ Laird MacEwen both left messages for ye. Master Ewan is out ridin’ the boundaries with the scouts, hopin’ to gather more information. An’ Laird MacEwen has departed to visit kinfolk as he is in the vicinity whilst staying with ye. He asked me tae tell ye he will be gone fer a day or two, but then he will return.”
Donall scowled. Ewan was on patrol, and Alexander was gone to speak with his kin. He realized Alex had his duties to attend to.It was hardly unexpected, and yet, in the face of the unknown threat on his borders, he missed the support of his closest friend.
“Laird MacEwen is gone?” Lydia’s soft question made Donall grit his teeth, biting back a snarl as jealousy stabbed him in the chest like a dagger.
He kept his answer short, his tone terse. “Aye. He’s visiting kin and may also have duties in his own lands - he’s a trader with business tae attend tae. He daesnae live here, nay matter how much ye might wish it.”
Lydia flushed, and Donall felt a bite of shame replace the burn of jealousy. He had no reason to say such things, and well he knew it. He half-hoped that Lydia would snap back at him, as Maisie might have if he’d made a similar comment about Ewan, but she only bowed her head and stepped away. “Apologies my laird. I was simply curious.”
“Aye. Never ye mind.” Donall shook his head. “Bring me some tea - hot an’ strong, then go up tae me study. I’ll be trainin’ with the warriors this morn, an’ I want ye tae organize the documents on me desk while I’m daein’ tha’.”
“Aye, my laird.” She nodded, and Donall watched her as she turned and made her way gracefully back to the kitchens to collect his tea.
Before coming down, he’d gone to his study to make sure that all the information he’d gleaned about Clan Cameron’s movements - such as it was - was scattered among the other documents onhis desk. He knew every memo, every note and every message that was there, but he wanted to see what Lydia made of them - and if she did anything besides tidy them.
He’d seen her reaction to the mention of the Cameron soldiers, and he was convinced she knew something about their plans, but what it was continued to elude him.
Mayhap, with all the information there, she’ll dae somethin’. An’ if she’s a spy an’ tries tae remove or change anything, then I’ll ken. An’ if that’s the case… ‘twill give me some answers at least.
He finished his meal in unaccustomed silence, then made his way down to the courtyard. The warriors were waiting, and Donall found a sword and began to lead the training drills. Before long, his muscles were burning pleasantly, and sweat slid down his body. After two candle-marks, he was weary, in a good way, and his mind was settled, falling into the weary contentment that often came with a good workout.
A bath made him feel more like himself and banished the last of the cobwebs and the gray fugue from his mind. Donall went to the kitchen to collect a snack from the cook, then made his way to the study.
Lydia’s touch was evident - the fire had been built up and his documents were sorted and neatly arranged in small stacks, including the information regarding Clan Cameron. Donall leafed through the documents, but nothing was missing. The only thing that he might consider odd was that the map markingthe borders between his clan and Clan Cameron had been folded and placed at the bottom of the stack.
He couldn’t recall having folded the map earlier - and why would anyone hide a map in the bottom of a stack of reports? If she was intelligent enough to read, surely she’d guessed the purpose of the map was to understand and track Clan Cameron’s movements against them… didn’t it make more sense to leave the map on top, or open on a portion of the desk with the documents on top of it?
