Page 13 of The Shadow of a Laird
For the rest of the evening, she worked without saying an unnecessary word to Gavin. She answered his questions in monosyllables and avoided his eyes, and by the end of the evening he felt so frustrated that he began to bang the clay cups full of beer on the tables. This attracted the ire of both the customers and Maura, who could ill afford to waste spilled beer; she was only just managing to eke out the supply she had.
By the end of the evening, it was clear that both of them were spoiling for a fight.
6
The kitchen was hardly the place for a battle, so when his shift was finished, Maura took Gavin’s arm and led him outside, where they stood by the back door next to the empty beer barrels. She had brought an oil lamp with her and by its light she looked up into Gavin’s angry green eyes shadowed by his heavy, rust-coloured eyebrows. Despite herself, those eyes always mesmerised her, especially now when he was staring at her so intensely.
She was still furious with him, but even though she had to admit that he had saved her from something that might have seriously hurt her, her pride would not allow her to admit it.
“I expect you want me to leave now,” he said with an angry huff. “You obviously do not need my help anymore. I only ask that you pay me for the work that I’ve done.”
Maura was startled. “What are ye talkin’ about?” she demanded furiously. “I never said anythin’ about you leavin’!”
He shrugged. “But you are very angry with me for protecting you, even though he was going to knock you onto the floor.”
“I can fight my own battles,” she retorted. “I need nae help fae you. Just because you are a man doesnae give you the right tae push me around!” Her eyes were blazing with rage.
“Really?” he drawled. “Your uncle may be a very unfit and obese man, but he is still a man, and therefore bigger, stronger and much heavier than you, so unless you keep a stiletto or a dagger hidden in your pocket, he will eventually do you some serious damage. People become different kinds of drunk, Maura. Some become merry, some sleepy, some aggressive like your uncle. I’m sure this is not the first time he has tried something like this—is it?”
“I have always been able to escape from him, as you can see.” Maura’s voice was defiant as she glared at him. “An’ I dae know a bit about drunkards.”
“Nevertheless, I am happy to stay here and help you if you let me. I can stop fights and throw out rowdy customers—unless you think you can handle it yourself?” The last words were said with a raised eyebrow, as if daring her to contradict him.
Maura gazed at the large, strapping man in front of her. He had been joking, of course.
She was about to answer when he put a hand on each of her shoulders. “I want to express my gratitude for all the kindness you’ve shown me. Let me make you dinner.”
Maura was mystified. “Dae ye even know how tae cook?”
“Well, I can make my own breakfast,” he answered, “and I have watched Morag making food for the tavern. I have keen eyes, so I think I could help out more in the kitchen, and if you need anything written down I could help too, since I know Morag cannot read.”
“Why dae ye want tae dae that?” Maura asked. “We dinnae need another cook. Morag is fine an’ I am quite happy wi’ her.”
“I want to pull my weight,” he replied, trying to put as much sincerity as he could into his voice. He had to make her see thatstaying at the tavern was vitally important to him, although as he was not sure why yet.
“Thank ye for the offer, but I dinnae need a new cook.” Maura was firm, but felt guilty as she saw Gavin’s downcast expression. “About chuckin’ out the drunks—aye, ye can help me there because some o’ these eejits are more than I can handle. An’ I suppose I thank ye for savin’ me from my uncle, Gavin.”
“I was happy to do it,” he said warmly. “Goodnight, Maura.” Before he could move away, his stomach gave an almighty growl. Maura realised that they had both missed their evening meal, and suddenly, she was ravenous. She took his arm and led him back into the kitchen, where, after a moment of searching, she found some leftover soup and bannocks. Fortunately, the stove was still warm, so she was able to make a passable meal for both of them.
“We cannae let you go tae bed hungry,” she told him as she placed a bowl of fragrant broth in front of him, then sat down across from him.
They sat quietly eating their food for a while, and Gavin was intensely aware of the silence that had descended on them. The tavern was still warm from the stove, the dying fire, and the leftover heat of human bodies. The warm light of the fireplace cast a golden glow over everything; Gavin had never known the place to be so cosy.
He was smiling slightly, unaware that Maura was watching him. “What are ye thinkin’ about?” she asked gently.
“Nothing much,” he confessed. “Sometimes it’s good to let your thoughts go where they want to.” He paused, then went on, “May I ask you a question?”
“Aye,” she answered. “But I cannae promise tae answer it.” Her tone was wary.
Gavin nodded. “Of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He took a deep breath. “Why do you stay with your uncle? Itis quite obvious to everyone who sees you that you cannot stand the man, and he is certainly not fond of you, so why?”
Gavin saw her eyes become distant, as if remembering something. “Because he is the only family I have,” she answered. “I have nae other, an’ although he is no’ a good man any more, he was once. When I was a wee girl he used tae play wi’ me an’ we would laugh an’ have a rare old time, but that a’ stopped when Mammy an’ Da died.” She closed her eyes, and paused to swallow a lump in her throat before she went on.
“My Uncle Brian is my Da’s older brother by only a year,” she said sadly, “an’ they were very close. Uncle Brian bought the tavern two years before Mammy an’ Da got sick, so when they died he took me in. I was ill for a while, but I got better again. He was a fine man up till then, but Da’s death just broke somethin’ in him. He was never again the same man that he used tae be.”
“How did they die?” Gavin asked gently. “If you can talk about it, that is.”
Maura gave him a sad smile. “I am fine,” she answered, “an’ sometimes it is good tae talk. A problem shared is a problem halved, so they say.”
