Page 37 of The Shadow of a Laird
Elspeth poured him another glass of wine. Gavin had already had a few glasses already and was beginning to lose track of what Elspeth was saying. His eyelids were heavy and all he wanted to do was sleep. He tried not to yawn, but he could not stop himself.
“My goodness, Gavin, you look exhausted,” Elspeth exclaimed.
“I have had a little too much wine,” he confessed. “I am not used to it any more.”
Elspeth stood up and held out her hand. “Your bed is soft and comfortable and will give you the best night’s sleep you have had for a long time—you look as though you need it.”
Gavin smiled at her. “I knew you would look after me,” he said warmly. His hand was practically imprisoned in Elspeth’s as they made their way to his chamber.
When they reached his door, Elspeth seemed reluctant to leave. She looked up at him, then tentatively wrapped her arms around his waist and very gently laid her head against hisshoulder. “I wish I could stay with you,” she said sadly. “Just for a little while.”
“And what would the servants say? Your father would find out in no time,” Gavin answered. “But hopefully, we will be together soon. Goodnight, Elspeth.”
He bent to kiss her cheek, but she cupped his face in her hands and gave him a kiss on the lips. She was clumsy—obviously she had never kissed a man before—but Gavin did not push her away.
“Goodnight, Gavin,” she said, her eyes shining. “Sleep well.”
Gavin entered his room and closed the door behind him. He must go straight to sleep, he told himself; thinking about Maura was doing him no good at all. Trying to picture a future with her was as futile as trying to stop the tide coming in.
16
The next morning, Gavin woke up with a splitting headache. He had overindulged in the extremely fine wine Elspeth had shared with him the previous evening, and was now paying the price.
He ordered a bath and a cup of willow bark tea for his headache, and as he lay back in the soothing warmth of the water, he thought of Maura and the night they had shared together. It had been beyond blissful; it had surpassed any other experience he had ever undergone. He remembered her face as she reached her climax, as well as a look of complete rapture, there was disbelief, as if she could never have imagined a sensation so thrilling.
He closed his eyes and sighed; there was only one thing he regretted—that he had not taken time to look at her properly so that her image would be burned into his mind. That way he could take her out and look at her any time he wanted to.
He recalled how her pliant skin had felt against him, and her soft moans and sighs as he drove her to fulfilment; her cry of rapture as she came, or the pleasurable pain as she dug her fingernails into the flesh of his arms at that special moment.
He hoped he would be able to resist the urge to think of Maura when he was lying in bed with Elspeth because his biggest fear was his wife finding out that he was in love with another woman. Whatever happened, he could not endanger his marriage—his life depended on it.
When Gavin rose from his bath and dressed, he summoned his manservant to bring him a razor. The man looked at him strangely. “I can shave ye if ye wish, M’Laird,” he offered.
Gavin was astonished that he had forgotten the fact that Lairds and other men of high birth never shaved their own faces. He had been shaving himself for months now—even sharpening his own razor. He pulled himself together and smiled at the young man, who was only a little older than he was.
“Thank you,” he replied.
His headache was beginning to abate, the sun was making an appearance in a clear blue sky, and suddenly, he felt better than he had at any time since he had left Maura. Things were going to be fine, he told himself. All he had to do was forge ahead with his plans and put her out of his mind, but that was easier said than done.
He submitted to the ministrations of his valet, and after he had shaved and was reasonably clean and tidy, Gavin pondered on what to do for the rest of the day. There was a thin blanket of snow on the ground, but the sky was absolutely cloudless, which was almost unheard of for a winter day in Scotland. Usually, he would have taken advantage of this and gone out for a long ride to savour the sunshine, but now he was in too much danger.
He did not feel able to spend another whole day with Elspeth, so he decided to seek out the company of the guardsmen to see if he could get to know them a little more. Hopefully, it would help him understand them better and win their allegiance. He had never tried to do this with the guards at Duncairn, although their relationship had been cordial enough. He had always thoughtof them as being beneath him, and it was only now that he had lived amongst ordinary people that he realised how valuable they were, and how much they contributed to his privileged life.
He had just started to make his way downstairs when he was met by one of the maidservants, who curtsied to him and informed him that the Laird wanted to see him. Gavin’s heart gave a leap of hope; could Laird Jamieson be about to give him the answer he wanted?
He thanked the young woman and smiled at her, pleased by her delighted response as she beamed back at him. He went away feeling satisfied; this was the kind of man he would be from now on, treating others the way he would want to be treated himself.
Gavin made his way down to the Laird’s study and stood outside for a moment to collect his thoughts, then he knocked and was summoned inside. As soon as he saw Laird Jamieson’s face, he knew there was bad news coming. He sat down and braced himself for the coming storm.
However, just then, there was a very hard rap on the door. When the Laird answered, a tall, burly manservant entered. “M’Laird, I have two o’ your tenants here who need tae see ye. They are havin’ a dispute about the borders o’ their lands.”
The Laird looked as though he were about to bang his head on his desk. “Let me guess,” he growled. “Armstrong and MacLean?”
“Aye, M’Laird,” the man answered. “But this time it seems things are gettin’ worse.” He stood aside, and a guard pushed two dirty and dishevelled men into the room so hard that both of them stumbled and almost fell down.
Gavin watched and listened carefully to see how Jamieson handled what seemed to be a recurring problem. He stood up and glowered at them, and Gavin was surprised that the first word that came out of the Laird’s mouth was an obscenity,before he thumped his fist so hard on his desk that it made the wine carafe standing on it rattle.
“I told you two last time that I have had enough of you, and still, you are back to bother me again,” he roared. “I have a good mind to throw you both in the dungeons for a week. I had my carpenters put up a fence on the disputed border to keep you two apart.
