Page 44 of To Wed a Laird
Her face was scarlet with fury, and she clenched her fists by her sides.
Cormac opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out of it. Elspeth stood glaring at him for a long moment, then she thumped her fists on the table and let out a piercing scream before she turned and ran out.
Cormac stood up, intending to follow her, but Nell took hold of his sleeve, shaking her head. “Let her go, Cormac,” sheadvised. “Just for a wee while. She needs tae let off some steam. You were just the same when you were wee—I remember it well. I will go an’ find her a bit later, she willnae have gone far.”
Cormac nodded slowly and sipped his ale, then, a moment later, he found a plate of porridge and a cup of milk in front of him.
“I can see ye havenae eaten or slept,” Nell said, patting his shoulder. “But I have this porridge here an’ ye will eat it, or I will pour it down your throat!”
Cormac knew Nell was not serious, of course. She was looking after him as she had always done. “What would I do without you, Nell?” he asked, sighing.
Nell smiled, but made no answer. She bustled about tidying up and brushing the floor while he ate, then, when he had finished, she sat down beside him and looked into his eyes.
“What happened last night?” Nell asked.
Cormac sighed, then said, “We made love, Nell,” he answered. “For the second time.”
Nell did not tell him that she already knew, merely put her hand on top of his and listened. Over years of people confiding in her, she had found that the best kind of comfort was silence; no interruptions, no advice, just a sympathetic ear.
Cormac poured out the whole story of their coming together, and told Nell how he had expressed emotions to Rose that he had not said to another woman since Catherine died. He paused then, and at last Nell felt that it was time to speak.
“Did ye tell her how much ye love her?” she asked gently.
“No, Nell,” Cormac answered in response to her question. “I told her nothing. I have lost the love of my life. How can I replace Catherine?”
Nell leaned forward and tilted Cormac’s face up so that she could look into his bright blue eyes. “Cormac, Catherine is dead, an’ has been for years, but you arenae dead,” she reminded him.“You are alive an’ ye have a child tae look after. Ye must move on wi’ your life. Ye have a future, an’ if I am no’ mistaken, Rose is your future. Catherine will always be your first love, but she doesnae have tae be your last.”
Cormac looked into her eyes for a long moment, then jumped to his feet. “You are right, Nell,” he said determinedly. “I am going to find her.”
He strode from the room, leaving Nell to look after him, then she took a deep breath and went to find Elspeth. This was not going to be pleasant!
Rose had not eaten any breakfast, so when she drank her cup of ale, it was the first thing that had passed her lips that day. She drank it very slowly, partly because she did not wish it to go to her head, but mostly because she had very little coin. Yet, she ordered another cup, and another, hoping they would calm her down a little, but nothing seemed to help; her thoughts were still racing.
She sat silently, thinking, unaware that she was attracting attention. She had deliberately worn her oldest dress for the express purpose of stopping people, especially men, from looking at her, and was sitting in the darkest corner of the bar trying to stay out of sight.
Before long, the room was thick with pipe smoke and the odour of sweaty, unwashed bodies, and Rose began to consider the possibility of leaving. As well as being sweaty and loud, the men inside were beginning to look at her in a very appreciative but threatening way, and Rose was beginning to be afraid. It was definitely time to go.
She stood up very slowly and wrapped her dark grey cloak around herself, then began to inch out of the bar, moving sideways along the wall.
As she reached the door, Rose breathed a sigh of relief. She had not been spotted, and was not in any danger of being intercepted by any of the dubious-looking men whom she had noticed hanging around the bar.
However, just as she was about to push the door open, a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed her arm in a painful grip. Rose squealed and looked around into a pair of bloodshot brown eyes set in one of the ugliest faces she had ever seen.
The man had rotten yellow teeth with a great gap in the middle and a big flat nose that had obviously been broken at some time. The odour of his breath was so foul that it made her feel sick, and she turned her face away to avoid the sight and smell of him.
However, the man grabbed her chin and wrenched her face around so that she was looking at him again. “What is your name, hen?” he asked, his voice slurred and hoarse.
Rose plucked the first name that came to mind out of the air, not wanting to give away her true identity. “Mary,” she replied, her voice trembling with fear.
The man smiled with evil satisfaction then took a drink from his cup of ale, and his grip slackened a little. Rose took the chance to push him away and once more tried to open the outside door. She was able to get through this time; however, she did not manage to take more than a few steps before she came face to face with another two men who were lurking outside.
Both leered at her, looking at her up and down with lecherous appreciation. One was short, fat, and bald, the other tall and almost skeletally thin, with a mop of dirty black hair. They exchanged glances, then smiles, as though they had just won a prize, which, in effect, they had.
“Well, auld pal, will ye look at this?” the fat one said to his thin friend. “Is she no’ a beauty?”
The ugly man came out of the tavern and smiled at his two cohorts. “Aye,” he answered. “Dinnae say I never gie ye anythin’. Her name is Mary.”
“What a nice wee present,” the fat one said. “Hello, hen. We are goin’ tae have a good time tonight. A’ ye have tae dae is be nice tae us an’ we will be nice tae you. If ye arenae nice, well…” He left the words unsaid, but his meaning was obvious.
