Page 14 of Sighs of the Highland Wind
“I have a bit of a headache, Mammy,” Kenna replied. “I had a lot to do today, and I think I skimped a bit on my food. You know how easy it is to do that when you are busy.”
“Is that a’?”
Flora jumped to her feet and began to assemble some food on a tray. She began to cut some bread, and while her back was turned, Kenna put some dried meat into her basket, carefully concealing it among the clothes. She followed this with more bread, although she knew it would be stale by now. Before her mother turned back to her, she had added a few more assorted items of food.
Flora gave her some warm ale, then yawned.
“I think I might have a wee early night,” she announced, then she kissed her daughter and gave her some cold meat and cheese on a plate. “Can ye carry a’ that, hen?” she asked anxiously, looking at the plate and the basket.
Kenna chuckled as she balanced the plate carefully on the clothes.
“Mammy, you have seen me carrying far bigger things than this! Remember the time I carried a dozen wine glasses and threebottles of wine on a tray half the size of this one? I think I can do this.”
Flora made a face as she remembered the party at which they had been serving. At the age of only thirteen, it was Kenna’s first experience waiting on guests, and she was terrified. So was Flora as she watched her daughter descending a steep staircase carrying a tray of glasses and bottles which threatened to fall and smash on the floor at any moment. However, Kenna somehow made it to the bottom of the stairs and carried out her duties for the rest of the evening without incident. It had been a baptism of fire, but she had survived.
“I remember,” Flora answered, smiling. “Now go tae yer room wi’ that an’ dinnae stay up tae late! Goodnight, darlin’.” She kissed her daughter before turning back to her bread.
Kenna felt a warm blanket of love settle over her as her mother kissed her. She had never loved anyone more, and she felt guilty for deceiving her, but what other choice did she have? She could not very well throw the stranger out into the night.
She set aside her bad feelings and started up the stairs to her chamber. Despite herself, she was looking forward immensely to seeing Ewan again, even though she knew she would have to guard her heart against him, for he would be gone in a few more days. She felt sad at the thought but was glad to have known him, even for such a short time.
It occurred to Kenna, however, that if he had somehow managed to unlock the door, he could have taken the chance to wander around and steal a few small objects. He was, after all, a very poor man, and some of the ornaments in the castle were made of bone china, silver, and ivory, amongst other precious substances.
Perhaps she could help him by finding him some kind of work in the vicinity; from what she could see, there was nothing wrong with his muscles! However, there was still the strange question of his way of speaking. It was a mystery to her how such a poor man could speak like a laird. Clearly there was more to Ewan Montgomery than met the eye.
Whatever she did for him would be taking a risk. Despite her rather privileged position, she was still a servant, and her position would be in peril if she was caught sneaking strangers in.
She unlocked the door and only just stopped herself from laughing out loud at the sight of Ewan dressed in the huge shirt and breeches she had brought for him. They were so big that despite his best efforts, they were falling off him.
He looked up, embarrassed, as she opened the door. He had just about managed to keep the breeches up by means of a belt, but the shirt looked as if two of him could fit into it comfortably.
“Oh, dear,” Kenna said, frowning. “They are just a wee bit big, are they not?” She frowned, then began to giggle.
Maxwell, after a moment, grinned.
“Just a wee bit,” he admitted. “But I am sure I can tuck them all into my belt. The previous owner must have been a very large man indeed!”
“I never knew him, but I believe he was. There will be no need for any tucking in,” Kenna said firmly. “I will make them fit.”
She set down her basket on the bed, then took the tray from it and set it on the table. She produced the fruit from under the clothes in the basket and ordered: “Eat.”
For a moment, Maxwell sat looking at the table, scarcely able to believe what he was seeing. There was a whole chicken leg, what looked like a quarter of a loaf of bread, some roasted chestnuts, and two whole boiled eggs as well as an apple and a cup of ale.
“Thank you!” he said incredulously as he dived into the food and wolfed it down without stopping before drinking the ale.
Kenna smiled as he saw that he was at least partially satisfied. She gave him a handkerchief with which to wipe his mouth, and he smiled at her.
“I am so glad you found me,” he said softly. “I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.”
Kenna gave him a brief, tight smile as she cleared the dishes away.
“Please don’t thank me anymore. You are a human being, and so am I. This is what we do for each other.”
She stood back and looked him up and down, trying to size him up while ignoring his powerful masculinity.
She thought to herself that she could not have chosen a better man to be imprisoned with. He was handsome, kind, and had at least tried his best to be clean. That morning she had brought him a bucket of warm water and a bar of coarse soap to clean himself with, and she could see the difference in his appearance already. He looked cleaner and smelled fresher, she thought, although she could tell that something was bothering him.
“Is there anything else you want to tell me?” she asked curiously.
