Page 43 of The Shadow of a Laird
Gavin spent an uneventful evening with Elspeth, since the Laird was busy with his steward going over some estate business. To his surprise, she suggested a game of chess. She was areasonably good player, he knew, and they were quite evenly matched, but tonight he was too distracted to play well, and she beat him easily in the first match.
“You can do better than that,” she scolded him as she picked up a bottle of wine to pour him a second glass.
However, Gavin put his hand over the top of the glass, laughing. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he demanded. “I am still recovering from the last time.”
Elspeth giggled. “Am I so obvious?” she asked.
They played another game, and this time Gavin won, then it became a real contest of wills. At the end of five games, Elspeth had won three and Gavin two.
“I admit defeat,” he said, sighing. “And I am far too tired to carry on. My eyes want to close.”
Elspeth busied herself putting away the chess pieces and the board, then said, “I hope we’ll have many evenings like this, at least before our children are born.”
“I hope so.” He tried and failed to inject some enthusiasm into his voice, so he stood up, yawned and stretched, then smiled and said, “All that fresh air took it out of me today. I’m exhausted.”
Elspeth stood up and hugged him, then kissed his cheek softly. “Goodnight, my darling,” she said lovingly.
Gavin looked down into her deep brown eyes and wished for the hundredth time that he could love Elspeth as she deserved to be loved, but he knew now that he never could. His heart belonged to Maura, and always would.
After another restless night, Gavin rose from bed, bathed, and readied himself for the day. He knew that Elspeth would be going to visit friends that day, so he planned to spend the morning with the guardsmen practising his swordsmanship, which had suffered through lack of use.
He looked at himself in the mirror, and thought, without vanity, that he was a well-made man. He had always hated his red hair, which he had inherited from his father, but otherwise he was passably good to look at—at least the ladies thought so.
The notion took him back to his days at the Goose and Gander, and the many happy days he had spent there. What he would give to turn back time and work for Maura again!
He finished dressing, remembering that he would see her that evening, providing he could think up a suitable excuse to get away from the castle.
As soon as he went down into the courtyard, he was confronted by Ken MacIlroy who had bested him in the wrestling match. Gavin was unaccustomed to looking another man straight in the eye, since so few were as tall as he was, but he did so now as he said grimly, “I believe we have a score to settle, MacIlroy.”
“If ye like, M’Laird,” the other man said casually. “If ye have recovered fae the bruises I gave ye last time.”
“This time I’ll give you some of my own,” Gavin promised. “Forget I am a laird. This is just a contest between two men.”
A ring of interested spectators had gathered around them by this time, and as the bout began they divided themselves into two groups; those supporting Gavin and those cheering for MacIlroy. After a tense, close contest, Gavin prevailed, causing Ken to demand a rematch.
“Of course,” Gavin said graciously.
He lost the next bout, which meant another one, and another, and before he knew it, it was late afternoon. He ate alone, for which he was deeply grateful, since he did not wish to have a conversation with Elspeth about his plans for the evening. He had decided to plead tiredness and a headache and tell her he was having an early night, then go to meet Maura. It was thekind of excuse that wilting young ladies made, but he could not think of anything better.
Gavin was going back to his chamber when he was accosted by a chambermaid, who curtsied and said, “The Laird wants tae see ye, M’Laird. He says it is very important an’ ye must come right away.”
He cursed inwardly, since he had been looking forward to a good long soak in the bath before he left, but he thanked the maid then made his way to the Laird’s office. It was only as he set off that he realised what his request could mean. Were plans afoot to liberate his home at last? The thought made him quicken his pace, and he did not stop to knock on the door, but barged in, startling Laird Jamieson as he stood by the window.
“You sent for me,” Gavin said breathlessly.
“I did,” the Laird confirmed, frowning. “Sit down, please. I have worked out a plan with my Captain of the Guard and a few other trusted souls, so listen carefully and do not interrupt me until I finish.”
Gavin nodded. Every muscle in his body was tense with anticipation as he bent forward in his chair and leaned his elbows on the desk, looking Laird Jamieson in the eye as he outlined his plans.
Once he had finalised everything, Gavin asked a few more questions to clarify some points, then he sat back and sighed deeply. He had never been in battle, and although he was well-trained with many weapons, he had never thought he would need to use them.
“I will be ready as soon as you give me the word,” he told Laird Jamieson. “Thank you for giving me this chance to take back my home, my Laird. I am deeply in your debt. I only hope I do not disgrace myself.”
“Are you afraid?” the Laird asked, gazing at Gavin keenly.
Gavin looked away, avoiding the Laird’s eyes. “I’m ashamed to say I am,” he confessed.
“I am glad to hear it,” the Laird said.
