Page 12 of The Shadow of a Laird
Gavin was thinking about what it would be like to kiss Maura. She was just the kind of woman his parents would have loved, since they knew she would look after him. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman, and she certainly appealed to him as a warm-blooded male, but there was more to her than that.
He considered what it would be like to come home after a hard day’s work into the embrace of such a caring woman, someone who would treat him with kindness and respect, someone to whom he could bare his soul. He visualised them sitting by a warm hearth and eating simple food together, then sleeping in a warm bed wrapped in each other’s arms. He was lost in a daydream about how it would feel to put his arms around her and press her body close to his when he felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him out of his reverie.
Gavin jumped, startled, and turned to see Maura glaring at him, but before she could say anything her uncle marched into the tavern to confront her. He was not quite as drunk as he usually was, although Gavin knew that it was only a matter of time before he became totally inebriated.
“What have ye been daein’?” he demanded aggressively as he walked up to her, then stopped so close that they were almost nose to nose. “Malky’s wife went tae church tae pray this mornin’ an’ saw ye handin’ outmyfood tae a bunch o’ dirty street urchins!”
Before Gavin could stop him, he took Maura by her upper arms and shook her violently, but when he raised his hand to strike her he found his arm being clamped in the powerful grip of Gavin’s right hand.
“If you strike Maura, you will be very sorry,” Gavin said, his deep voice throbbing with rage. His eyes were dark with fury under fiercely lowered brows as he tightened his grip and looked down into Brian Hislop’s eyes, which had once been bright blue like Maura’s, but were now dull and grey with constant drinking.
Gavin saw them widen with fear as he lowered his arm. When he let go of him, Hislop winced and rubbed the red mark that Gavin’s fingers had left on his arm. The picture was rather comical; a tall, muscular, flame-haired man who towered above a short, paunchy balding one. The contrast between them was as stark as that between night and day.
Maura’s uncle walked unsteadily away, and Maura turned to Gavin, her eyes blazing with anger. “I can stand up for myself!” she snapped. “Dinnae interfere!”
Gavin looked astonished and hurt. “But he was going to slap you!” he cried. “I was protecting you. I did not want you to be injured. What kind of man would I be if I stood about and watched while a woman was attacked?”
Maura had to admit that he had a point, but she was not ready to be pacified. “Thank you, Gavin,” she said, trying to sound calm. “But I can stand up for myself.”
“I see.” He put his hands on his hips and looked down at her, trying to intimidate her with his stature and the power of his stare. He surly had never known this strategy to fail.
However, Maura was having none of it. She returned his fierce gaze, making sure that Gavin looked away before she did. If there was one thing she did not lack, it was willpower.
“I am only trying to protect you,” he said again. “He could have done you some real harm.”
“He has nae strength,” she replied. “I could have pushed him over wi’ my pinky!”
Gavin laughed at the picture this conjured up in his mind, and Maura saw red. “Ye think I am weak just because I am a woman?” she asked furiously.
“I don’t think you are weak,” Gavin replied in the same tone. “But nature has decreed that men are stronger than women, and you cannot deny that.”
Maura had no answer to that, so she merely said, “Bring some barrels up from the cellar—an’ be quick about it!”
“Are you not strong enough to do it yourself, then?” he asked, irritated at her bossy tone, before disappearing downstairs.
The first customers were beginning to arrive as Gavin brought a heavy barrel up and deposited it on the floor. A couple of young women watched him with naked admiration, and when he smiled at them, they gave him a flirtatious wave.
“Would you like to help me, ladies?” he asked pleasantly, giving them his best winning smile.
“We cannae dae that,” one of them said coyly. “We have tae leave it tae big strong men like you.”
Gavin laughed, then lifted up the barrel above his head and held it for a few moments before putting it down on the floor again. It was an act of pure showmanship, designed to do nothing but impress the two young women, which it definitely did! They gasped in admiration and astonishment before giving him an enthusiastic round of applause.
He grinned, then asked, “And what can I get you beautiful ladies to drink on this cold night? Mulled ale? Brandy? Red wine?”
“Aye—that would be lovely,” the blonde one said, giggling. “I dream about red wine, but I havenae got the money. Ye can always give it tae us as a present, though.”
They both looked at him coyly.
“Sorry, lovely ladies,” he answered sadly with a sigh, “but I’m afraid I have drunk all the wine. You will have to make do with ale.” He began to pour it out.
“My name is Lesley, an’ this is my friend Cora,” the brunette woman said. She indicated the red-haired girl beside her. “An’ what is your name?”
“Gavin,” he replied, smiling. “And you two are the prettiest ladies I have seen today.”
They giggled and told him he was terrible.
Maura was listening, torn between jealousy because of his attention to the young women, and gratitude because he was attracting customers. She was angry, not only with Gavin, but with herself for feeling so jealous; what was wrong with her, for god’s sake?
