Page 25 of The Shadow of a Laird
Maura laughed, although she was seething with jealousy inside. “Aye, well, that is one o’ the only good things about bein’ poor,” she observed. “Naebody cares who ye marry.”
Gavin almost laughed. When it came to intelligence, Maura was streets ahead of anyone else he could think of. If she had been the daughter of a wealthy merchant, a rich farmer or a Laird, he would have married her in a heartbeat, and society would have applauded.
However, as things stood, he would never be able to do so without losing everything, and he did not want to come to her with empty hands if it had been possible. He could see her standing in the church wearing a blue dress to match her eyes as they pledged their future to each other, and their wedding night… He jerked himself back to reality at the thought of that. It would never happen, he told himself sternly.
Maura became brisk. “Time ye were in bed,” she told him. “We will have tae set off early.”
Gavin stepped forward and caught her hand, intending to thank her again, but when he tried to raise it to his lips, Maura snatched it away and gave him a poisonous look.
“We will no’ be crossin’ that line again,” she told him. “Goodnight, Gavin. Make sure ye are ready in the mornin’.”
With that, she left, and Gavin stared at the door for a few moments before climbing into bed, still cuddling his cushion. He wished with his whole heart that he was holding Maura, but she held him in such contempt that he knew it was never going to happen.
Maura had to make up an excuse for her absence for the next two days, so she needed to rack her brains to come up with something her uncle would believe. It would not be too hard, she reasoned, since he was drunk most of the time anyway. She smiled grimly at the thought of his rage if he knew what she was actually going to do. He always liked to be in charge of every move she made.
Maura owned only one precious thing, apart from her embroideries. It was a long mirror that her mother had been given by a lady whom she had helped when her carriage had become stuck in the mud by the side of the road. It was a thing of beauty; oval, with a golden-gilded wooden frame that had been intricately carved into the shape of delicate flowers that edged the glass.
Whenever she looked into it, as she was doing now, Maura felt a pang of sadness as she remembered her beloved Mammy. It was especially precious to her because it had been given, not only out of love, but as a celebration, since Maura had become a woman the day before, and had begun a whole new chapter of her life. She was thirteen years old, the prettiest girl in the village, and Mammy had delicately explained to her everything that would change in her life from then on.
“So, ye see, darlin’,” she had said, as she came to the end of her little speech. “There are many things ye will have tae becareful o’ fae now on. As your body changes, boys will start tae look at ye in a different way, an’ ye must be very watchful because they sometimes want tae dae things ye will nae like, so ye must always stand up for yourself. Dae ye understand?”
Maura had not quite understood everything, and she had been a little scared, but now, as she looked at herself standing naked before the mirror, she silently thanked Mammy for her wisdom. How lucky she had been to be blessed with such wonderful parents, and how she wished her Mammy were here to counsel her now.
She took one last look at herself, wondering what Gavin would think of her body. Would he find her desirable? Then she dismissed the thought; it would never matter anyway. Her future would likely be decided by her uncle, and the best she could hope for was a solid young farm hand or perhaps a tradesman. There would be no Lairds or rich young gentlemen for her. She closed her eyes, but it was a long time until sleep claimed her.
12
When Gavin awoke the next morning, he gave himself no time to think, but jumped out of bed and practically threw his clothes on, determined not to be a second late. Maura would be looking for any excuse to criticise him, he knew. He had no way of telling the time, and dawn always came late in winter, so although there was only a tiny speck of light on the horizon, he knew that the morning might bequite well advanced.
Waking up at the right time in the morning was something he had never had to worry about before, since a manservant always came to rouse him and help him dress.
Gavin laughed, looking down at the straw-covered floor of his tiny bedroom, the cracked wooden shutters at the window, and the tattered blankets on his bed. In a strange way, he had come to love this little space, and was sorry to be leaving it. Then he looked at his embroidered cushion, smiled, and stuffed it in the top of his sack. It would be a physical representation of all the bittersweet memories he was leaving behind him.
Just then, there was a gentle knock at the door, and he opened it as quietly as he could. Maura was standing there with a laden tray, and he stood aside to let her in. His mouth beganto water as the smell of porridge, fresh bread, eggs and black pudding reached his nose. Maura placed a flagon of mulled ale on the floor beside him, then sat on his bed to enjoy her own food.
“Thank you, Maura,” Gavin said warmly as he began to spoon a heap of porridge into his mouth. “This is delicious. Did you cook it?”
“Aye, but there is nae time for nice words,” Maura replied quickly. “We need tae get out o’ here fast before anybody else sees us. Morag will be up tae cook the breakfast any minute.”
Although he was used to dining in a leisurely manner, Gavin ate hastily, and as he finished the porridge he asked, “What did you tell your uncle?”
Maura gave a short laugh. “I woke him up an hour ago,” she began. “He wasnae best pleased.” She took a sip of her ale and swallowed it before she went on, savouring it. Gavin had always noticed that Maura appreciated good quality beer.
“I told him that I was goin’ tae see another brewer because I wanted tae make sure that I wasnae taken in an’ made a fool o’ like the last time. I told him I was takin’ ye wi’ me for protection.”
“Did he believe you?” he asked, frowning. “If I had known you were doing that, I would have come with you to speak with him.”
Maura laughed. “He was still half asleep, but he will want for naethin’. I left him everythin’ he needs tae keep goin’ till I get back.”
“You are a very good liar,” he remarked, smiling. It was meant as a back-handed compliment, and he expected Maura to laugh, but he received quite the opposite response.
“Well, ye should know.” Her voice was cutting. “Since ye are very skilful at it yourself. Ye had me fooled for months. People in glass houses shouldnae throw stones, ye know.”
“I do,” he conceded. “I am not perfect, Maura. Not one of us is, but since I met you and began to work in theGoose and Gander,I feel as though my whole life has changed for the better. I was a pampered rich boy, and I had no idea what the world outside was really like. Ordinary people were just there to work for me, but now I see the other side of things, and it has opened my eyes and made me ashamed. I hope I am a better man now.”
“I am glad tae hear it,” she snapped. “Ye asked me if I thought a better Laird might change things. I dae—but that Laird isnae ye.”
“I am willing to learn,” he spat back, and for a few moments they glared at each other before Gavin turned away. “I am not as stupid as you seem to think, Maura.”
