Page 138 of Laird of Flint
Normally, Carenza loved the holiday. Beltane was a season of rebirth and new hope. At Dunlop, she’d adorn the coos and sheep with hawthorn blossoms, deck the doorways and sills with gorse, and leave small pools of milk near rowan trees to appease the faeries.
It was a time for revelry and mischief. The clanfolk drank too much. Lasses flirted shamelessly, and lads showed off, leaping over the twin bonfires. Even the animals felt frisky. There was always a surge of bairns born in the months after Beltane—both beast and human.
But Carenza couldn’t bring herself to celebrate. Beltane did not represent promise or renewal for her. Her new beginning was going to have a sinister start. She was going to be married in a matter of days to a kind and honorable man from whom she was keeping the most terrible of secrets.
She had good reason to conceal the truth. She meant to do what was best for Gellir, for Hew, for the whole Rivenloch clan, for her father, for her clan, for the bairn, and aye, even for the king himself. The only person for whom it was not best was her.
Still, it was a wretched way to start a marriage—with a lie.
Merraid poked her head in. “Are ye comin’ to see the bonfires, m’lady?” Her eyes danced with pleasure, and Carenza wished she could join in the maidservant’s delight.
“Nay, I think not.”
“Are ye not feelin’ well?”
“I’m sure I’ll feel better on the morrow.”
It was the lie she’d been telling for a sennight now. The truth was she didn’t have the stamina to wear her usual mask of sunny disposition over her pervasive melancholy. And it was easier to claim she felt physically ill.
“Sir Gellir will miss ye at the bonfire,” Merraid said, clucking her tongue.
“Ye can give him my apologies.”
“I won’t leave ye here alone, m’lady. Not on Beltane.”
“Nonsense. I’ll be fine. Ye go on and enjoy the festivities for me.”
Merraid’s eyes lit up. “Are ye sure?”
Carenza thought at least one of them should have fun this eve. “Och aye. Go on.”
Merraid nodded to the hearth. “Ye’ll want to douse your fire soon, so they can light the bonfire.”
“Ye can douse it now if ye like.”
“Ye won’t grow too cold?”
She shook her head. In a few hours, someone would return with a brand from the Beltane bonfire to ignite her hearth, in the hopes of ensuring a fortuitous new beginning to the season. Until then, she should probably get used to the chill. After all, it was no colder than her icy heart.
Hunched over in a ragged cloak and without his famous axe, Hew found it ridiculously easy to blend in with the clanfolk at Darragh. He supposed that was the difference between living in the neighborly Highlands and on the border at Rivenloch, where one kept the gates locked against strangers.
Everyone was so preoccupied throughout the day with picking flowers and stacking firewood, decorating doorways and gulping down ale, he was able to slip through the crowd without drawing attention.
Neither his cousin Feiyan, her husband Dougal, nor his cousin Gellir spotted him as he wandered the bustling courtyard at twilight. The Darragh clanfolk he hadn’t seen in years, though he recognized one red-haired beauty, Merraid. Four years ago at the battle of Darragh, she’d been the brave wee lass who’d followed Gellir about like an orphaned pup.
Watching Merraid’s comings and goings, he discovered she’d been assigned to Lady Carenza as her personal maidservant. But it appeared Carenza rarely left her bedchamber.
And now, at this late hour, when the bonfires were ready to be lit, the keep was nearly deserted, and Merraid disappeared upstairs, he figured Carenza must have decided to forego the festivities altogether.
He sighed from the shadows of the darkened hall. It seemed he’d come all this way for nothing. He was never going to get a better opportunity to speak with Carenza. And after tonight, she’d never be alone.
He had just pushed off the wall when he saw the glow of candlelight coming from the stairwell. Fading back, he watched the flicker dance into view.
Merraid emerged from the stairwell. She was by herself. She passed by without seeing him. And she seemed intent on exiting the great hall as soon as possible to join the others.
As the door closed behind her, Hew shifted his focus to the stairwell.
He took the spiral steps two by two.
