Page 27 of The Shadow of a Laird
“Thank you,” Gavin breathed. “You make me feel so unprepared and stupid.”
“The more ye learn, the better the Laird ye will be,” she observed.
Perhaps I should marry you,he thought wistfully.
Contemplating the bride who awaited him, Gavin’s heart ached. There was simply no comparison between the two women. One was strong, resourceful, and intelligent, and the other was pretty, not exactly stupid, but nowhere near Maura’s level of sharpness. No doubt, Elspeth was a better dancer and could fit into a crowded ballroom much better than Maura. However, in a situation like the one he was in—well, only one of them could have coped, and it certainly was not Elspeth!
Maura passed him a plate with cold meat and bread on it, then handed him an apple. It was plain food, but there was plenty of it, and when he had finished every morsel, he patted his stomach and smiled with satisfaction.
“I must hire this cook,” he said. “She is very good at her job.”
Maura seemed to have relaxed a bit, and Gavin took advantage of it to ask her a few questions. “I never asked you before, Maura, but how old are you?”
“An’ what business is that o’ yours?” she answered, frowning.
“None at all,” he admitted. “Idle curiosity. I will be twenty-three at the end of December. I was a Christmas present, according to my mother.”
“I am twenty-two,” Maura replied. “An’ I will be a year older on Midsummer Day, the twenty-first of June.”
“So I am a Midwinter and you are a Midsummer baby,” Gavin laughed. “How strange.”
Maura shrugged. “I was meant tae be twins, but my sister was stillborn,” she said sadly. “Just one o’ those things, I suppose.”
“I am so sorry,” Gavin said sincerely. “After my birth, my mother could not have any more babies, so I’m a singleton too. We are both lonely”
Maura shook her head firmly. “I have never been lonely,” she told him. “I might be the only child, but I always had plenty o’ friends. That is the good thing about growin’ up in a place where everybody knows ye. We a’ care about each other.”
“It sounds lovely,” Gavin remarked sadly. “Sometimes I think I grew up in the loneliest place in the world. People do not want to know you for who you are, but for what you have. Possessions mean more than people in my world.”
“Easy to say that when ye have plenty,” Maura said bitterly, throwing more wood on the fire. “Many around here would beglad o’ clothes on their backs, food in their bellies, an’ a roof over their heads.”
“Are you content with that?” he asked, looking into her eyes intently.
“I am. I have everything I need.” She nodded, looking into the fire. “I have never been one tae hanker after jewels an’ fine dresses.”
Gavin studied the way the flames made her eyes glow, and played over the curves of her body; a wave of desire swept over him, making him squirm uncomfortably as his shaft stiffened. “You are content with your lot,” he said approvingly, wishing that he could say the same. “I envy you.”
“What is she like, this woman they want ye tae marry?” Maura asked. She sounded unaccountably jealous, although she would not admit it. “Dae ye like her?”
Gavin sighed. “Everybody likes Elspeth. There is nothing really to dislike about her. She can hold a good conversation about the latest fashions and the wickedest scandals. She is a good rider and absolutely devoted to her two pet cats, whom she treats like queens. She is very proud of the fact that she is a good card player—I have to admit that she is—but apart from that, I really have nothing much to say about her. She is…” He shrugged. “Just another rich girl with little substance, and she fancies herself in love with me.”
“Is she pretty?” Maura asked, trying to sound casual. In fact, she was feeling more than a little jealous.
“I must say she is very pretty in a girlish kind of way,” he replied. “Dark hair, dark eyes, very slim and very petite. She would be better if she was less indulged and more intelligent.”
“How long is it since ye last saw her?” Maura asked, holding her hands out to the fire.
“About a year,” he replied. “Her father was having a ceilidh for his birthday and I danced with her.”
“So it has been a while,” Maura mused. “Dae ye think she will still love ye as ye are now?”
Gavin smiled, amused. “Why should she not?” he asked. “And what do you mean ‘as you are now?’ I am still the same man that I was the last time she saw me.”
Maura shook her head. She swallowed the rest of her ale and stood up, then looked him up and down critically. “No’ ye’re not,” she said firmly. “Ye have changed fae that big-headed eejit who came tae Carmalcolm at first; ye are more like one o’ us now.”
Gavin laughed. “Is that a compliment or an insult?” he asked.
Maura paused in the act of brushing down her dress and looked at him. “I think ye are a better person now,” she answered, and smiled at him. It was a wide, genuine expression of goodwill, and it made Gavin feel warm inside. “But dinnae let it go tae your head.”
