Page 7 of The Shadow of a Laird
Gavin lay for a long while, trying to tamp down his feelings of anger and betrayal. He had received so many shocks in one day that he was surprised he had managed to stay alive. First, the invasion of the castle, then his stable boy—his stable hand, for god’s sake—robbing him blind, then a fight with two complete strangers. He had almost been happy about that because it had allowed him to release all his pent-up fury and frustration, but there was one thing that had made the day just about bearable: Maura.
He had not met such a lovely woman for a long, long time. Everything about her was sensual and beautiful, and yet he could see that she was keenly intelligent as well, and that was a quality he valued highly. In his time, he had met many attractive young ladies, but not many of them could have upheld their own point of view in a debate, except if it concerned the latest fashions!
It irked him immensely as he realised that Maura was completely wasted in the crude and uncouth environment in which she found herself. She was working amongst the lowest ofthe low and under the thumb of an absolute fool who was almost constantly inebriated. What a waste!
What a pity she was not of the same stratum of society as that which he inhabited, Gavin reflected. He would be proud to have her on his arm at wedding celebrations, feasts and ceilidhs—and not only on his arm. No, he would love to have her in his bed too. His body stiffened at the thought as he tried to visualise that beautifully curved body pressed against him, those bright blue eyes looking into his with an expression of love.
He thought about that for a moment, then dismissed the idea as completely fanciful. There was another emotion that was much more fitting; lust. Maura was not equipped to fit into his life—or at least the privileged life he had enjoyed up till now—and he would not encourage her to think she was. Of course, he had no idea whether he would ever live that life again, or if this chaotic situation was all he had to look forward to.
Moreover, he knew himself to be incapable of love. He had left it behind him a long time ago—life had battered it out of him.
Gavin had thought he would not be able to rest, but he was more exhausted than he had ever been in his life, and he surrendered to sleep soon enough. To his surprise, he slept deeply and dreamlessly and woke up well-rested and refreshed. There was still light coming in, and it seemed he had slept for the entire day and night.
It took him a few moments to remember where he was, since he was used to waking up in a soft feather bed in a room with elaborate plasterwork on the ceiling as the first thing he saw. There were no brocade curtains or paintings in ornate frames, merely rough, undecorated plaster walls and a straw-covered floor.
When he went through the events of the previous days, he groaned; how had he ended up here? It was not his fault that the clan elders thought him hateful. He was only a man, after all, nota god, and he could not be charitable to everyone all the time. Perhaps they thought he was incompetent, but the estate was running smoothly and profitably. It was a mystery.
Abruptly, Gavin heard voices outside the door of the little cubicle in which he was lying. He had promised to work for his keep, and he was a man of his word, so he supposed he ought to rise and see what was expected of him.
However, when he looked down at himself, he realised that he was filthy. He sighed, rose from his mattress and dusted himself down as best he could. He had a bag with one change of clothing in it, and even that was not very clean. Gavin peeped out of the door, hoping that there was no one near who could see him and ask questions of him. He wanted to find Maura and ask her precisely what she needed of him, but he could not find her anywhere.
He stepped outside and walked a little way to see what surrounded the tavern, then he found the burn that ran behind it. This was a stroke of good fortune, he thought, since he needed a good wash, and even if the water was freezing, it was clear and clean. He would have to take a deep breath, brace himself and endure the shock; after all, he had done it plenty of times before when he was a boy.
He stood looking at the brown, peaty stream for a few moments, then quickly stripped off his clothes, took a deep breath and jumped in before he had another moment to think about what he was doing.
The freezing water closed over his head and he felt its painful sting at once; he drew in a breath but immediately coughed out a lungful of cold water and spat into the stream.
The icy water was so cold that it burned him, but he gritted his teeth and began to scrub himself with a stone that he had found on the bed of the stream, desperate to be finished with the torture he was putting himself through. Gavin thought he hadprepared himself sufficiently, but nothing could have readied him for this!
Suddenly, he remembered that he had brought nothing with which he could dry himself. He could not stand in the water any longer without his extremities going absolutely numb, so he turned around to climb out—and came face to face with the last person he wanted to see.
Maura had gone to her small chamber the other night with her thoughts full of the tall, handsome, rugged stranger who had rescued her from being hurt. She was at a loss to understand how a man like him was wandering aimlessly around the countryside.
His clothes, although dirty, were well-made and obviously expensive, and he spoke with a cultured, upper-class accent. Yet, there was something sad and bereft about him; he was obviously incredibly lonely, and her heart went out to him. She could identify with that, since loneliness had been her lot since her parents died.
Granted, she had had a couple of offers of marriage, but neither of the men were the type of person with whom she could ever contemplate sharing her life. She wanted children, but she had resigned herself to the fact that she would never have any.
Now, as Maura went down to the burn to fetch a bucket of water, she was so distracted that when she looked up to see him right in front of her, she thought she was hallucinating. She blinked. No, he was still there!
Gavin was standing in the water with his back to the shore, washing himself. Maura’s eyes widened as she looked at thekind of male body she had only ever seen in her dreams. As she watched, he turned around and her mouth dropped open.
His shoulders were broad, his chest wide and his arms powerful. His torso was lined with rows of muscles that tapered down to a narrow waist and hips. Maura could see no more because of the depth of the water in which he was standing. How she wished she could!
They stood looking at each other for a stunned moment, then Gavin barked, “What are you staring at?”
Maura put her bucket down in case she was tempted to hit him over the head with it. “God only knows,” she retorted angrily. “Looks like some eejit that wants tae freeze tae death!”
“Get me some clothes then!” he demanded. “And something to dry myself with!”
“What dae ye think I am?” she spat back. “Your slave?” She gave him a look that would have felled a lesser man then went to find a piece of fabric for him to dry himself with. She threw it to him and laughed when it almost landed in the water. After that she dumped a ragged pair of breeches and a tunic at the edge of the bank and filled her bucket, then strode away.
Gavin emerged from the burn and dried himself as quickly as he could, shivering so much that his teeth were chattering the whole time. He was furious that Maura had dared to stand up to him, showing him no respect at all, but then he reminded himself that she had no idea who he was. He tried to force himself to calm down as he went into the tavern and saw Maura wiping the top of the bar counter. As soon as she saw him, she pointed to a bowl of porridge sitting on a table, as well as a glass of milk.
“There is your breakfast,” she told him irritably. “Hurry up an’ eat it, then ye can come an’ dae some work.”
Gavin sat down to eat the meal and found that it was stone-cold, lumpy and too salty. He wrinkled his nose up and wasabout to complain, but he looked up into Maura’s eyes, which were hostile and aggressive, staring at him from under lowered brows. They seemed to be saying,go on, I dare you!
He hastily ate his very unappetising meal and stood up to walk over to Maura, but she pointed at his empty plate and cup, then he realised that he was being instructed to wash them. He was outraged, and had to restrain himself from smashing the cup against the table, but abruptly he remembered his perilous position and restrained himself.
