Page 38 of Sighs of the Highland Wind
He tightened his arms and pulled her closer to him.
Goodnight, love.
It was his last thought before he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
17
Thankfully, the next morning was slightly warmer, and they were able to resume their journey straight away. With more than six miles to go, they knew that they would be walking until early evening with nothing in their stomachs.
“I hope we can make it,” Kenna said anxiously as they set off once more.
It was late autumn, when the sky was still dark until midmorning, and after they had covered no more than a few hundred yards, they were already freezing.
“We will,” Maxwell said, with a note of grim determination in his voice. “Together, we can do anything.”
Kenna gave him a strange smile. “I believe you.”
It came to her suddenly that she and Maxwell made a good team who could do anything they put their minds to. What a pity he was a master and she was a servant, she thought, since theycould have gone so far together. Then she shooed the thought out of her mind. There was no future for them.
It was late afternoon by the time they arrived at Kirklieth, and both of them were exhausted and weak from hunger. As they approached the castle, Maxwell felt his heart speed up, and a mixture of emotions assailed him. Firstly, he was relieved to be home. Secondly, he was afraid of the family’s anger. And finally, he was worried that he might be asked to leave again. He doubted he could cope in the world of the weak and homeless again, and he wondered fearfully what would happen to him. He had never resorted to stealing, but it might yet come to that.
Kirklieth castle had no moat, only a dry ditch that ran all the way around the castle with a short bridge across it that led to the main gate. The two guards that were standing at the end of the bridge looked astonished as they watched the big man and the small woman approaching.
“Master Maxwell, is that you?” the bigger of the two guards, Gerry Dornan, asked in disbelief.
“Aye,” Maxwell answered with a weary smile. “It is, Gerry. Is my sister here?”
“She is,” the other guard, Fergus Boyd, answered. “Where have ye been a’ this time, Master?”
“It is a very long story, Fergus.”
Maxwell screwed his eyes shut and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. His head was aching, and he knew it was becauseof hunger, so without another word, he took Kenna’s hand and made his way down to the kitchen.
They were greeted by the familiar smell of warm bread and the chatter and laughter of the kitchen staff as they worked. As they entered, they all looked up from their labors, and there was a sudden shocked silence as all eyes swiveled to look at Maxwell and the small woman beside him.
“Master Maxwell! Is that ye?” Wiping her hands on her apron, the cook, Cathy Kennedy, came forward to look at him. “I cannae believe it! Where have ye been?”
“I will tell you all in a while, Cathy,” Maxwell replied as he flopped down wearily on a chair before the fire, pulling another one beside him for Kenna. “Please give us both whatever food you have that is ready to hand. Anything.” He held his hands out before the fire.
Kenna did the same, but she was aware of all the work going on around her and felt guilty that she was not taking part in any of it. She began to stand up, but Maxwell pulled her down again.
“Sit still, Kenna. They are working for both of us today,” he said softly. “We are both tired and hungry.”
One of the kitchen maids brought them each a mug of mulled ale, and as she swallowed it, Kenna felt all her fear and apprehension drain away. It was sublime. Sitting beside a cozy fire with Maxwell, a delicious drink in her hand, waiting for their food to come… She could not bring herself to worry about the future since today was all that mattered.
When their beef stew and bannocks arrived, there was no more talking. Each of them ate as though it was the last meal theywould ever have, and when they were finished, a bowl of clootie dumpling followed it.
Maxwell sat back and blew out a long sigh of satisfaction, then smiled at Kenna.
“All right?” he asked.
“Never better,” she replied, grinning at him.
He frowned. “It is time to meet the tigress,” he said grimly.
He felt apprehensive but optimistic at the same time as he stood up. He and Lindsey had always butted heads, but they still loved each other dearly, and each of them would have backed the other up under any circumstances. Yet when Lindsey was right, she would rarely back down, and Maxwell could see that a confrontation of massive proportions was coming.
He sighed and put one foot on the first step of the kitchen staircase, then looked up. Staring down at him from the top of the stairs was a pair of silver-grey eyes just like his own, but they belonged to a woman.
