Page 36 of A Knight To Call My Own
“Hear me, and hear me well, madam. There has been no misunderstanding. Lynet ismy wife,and you will not, under any circumstances forget such a fact,” Ian snarled. “Now get inside. Once I have my lady settled in our chamber, I will summon you and finish having speech in privacy where conversations of this nature belong!”
Lynet saw the older woman cast a mutinous gaze upon her son ’til she turned to take her leave, grabbing the arm of the younger lady at her side. Ian’s voice halted her progress and her shoulders jerked when she heard the tone of his speech. “Have you not forgotten something, mother?”
Lady Fiona turned back towards them and gave the briefest of nods afore picking up her skirts and hastily retreating into the castle. Already the air, which had only moments afore seemed to be stifling all around them, brightened like the sun peeking through the clouds after a heavy storm. Ian put his arm around Lynet’s shoulder and embraced her.
“People are staring, Ian,” she whispered, even whilst her arms went around his waist.
“Let them…” he replied, reaching up to cup her cheek. “I am most sorry for her treatment of you. Are you all right?”
“Aye. She does not even know me, and already she hates me.”
“I cannot fathom what has gotten into her. She was never like that when I was a lad.”
“I am sure all will reveal itself in time, Ian.”
“She is just displeased I have gone against her wishes and wed without consulting her.”
He took her arm and led her into the Great Hall of the keep. Lynet did her best not to cough from the hazy smoke filling the chamber. A quick glance at her surroundings told her the estate had been in disarray for some time. The hall was sparsely furnished. The walls had but one tattered tapestry hanging from a bent metal rod. Two large grey dogs lounging by the fire appeared as though they were in need of a meal. She could only ponder if, mayhap, everyone at Urquhart was in need of such sustenance.
As they made their way across the filthy rush covered floor to the stairs, Ian called out for water to be brought to his chambers for bathing. Several serfs scurried off to do his bidding. Lynet lost count of the number of stairs they climbed ’til they reached the fifth floor. The passageway seemed eerily silent, with only the occasional torch lit to help them find their way down the dark corridor.
They came to a portal located near a corner of the keep, and Ian pushed the oaken door open. Lynet tried to hide her dismay at seeing the condition of the chamber that was obviously made for the laird and chief of the keep. ’Twas apparent Ian’s brother had not spent many hours here afore his demise.
“God’s wounds,” Ian cursed.
She could understand his sentiments regarding the room. Lynet tried to envision the chamber for the possibilities ’twould offer, thinking of a large bed with lush velvet hangings instead of pelts of fur thrown carelessly upon the floor and up against the wall. A small table that served as a desk would never do, but a larger one would be a nice addition near one of the windows. Colorful cushions in the rounded corner would brighten up the seating space and would add a nice touch to the area where one could gaze at the loch below. There was one chest located on the opposite side of the room, although Lynet was almost afraid to open the lid. She had no doubt she would find within a nest of mice, given there was a considerable hole chewed open at the bottom.
She went towards the window and almost ran into a cobweb that housed a very busy spider as it spun its silken thread around its latest meal. With a timid smile, she turned back to Ian, who still stood rooted and frozen in place. “It could be worse,” Lynet said brightly.
He came back from wherever far off place he had traveled to in his mind. “Surely you jest, madam?”
She walked over to him and placed her hands upon his arms. Her thumbs roamed over his skin and she could feel his muscles flex with tension. “We shall make the best of it,” she declared cheerfully.
Ian pulled her a step closer, and Lynet’s heart leapt as she felt the heat of his body next to her own. She realized this was the man she had wanted all her life. Ian…her knight…her husband…and she could at long last call him her very own.
“Are you, perchance, attempting to make me laugh?”
Lynet gave a slight shrug. “I thought a light heart might be best given the circumstances.”
“Do you always have so much hope and faith all will work out?”
Ian brought her fully against him, and a gasp escaped her. She had never willingly been this close to another man in her life. “I am here, am I not?” she replied, as she tried to find breath to fill her lungs, although this in no way answered his question. “’Twas, mayhap, not how I envisioned our marriage starting out, but that does not seem to matter now, does it? We are wed. You have your inheritance-”
“Such as it is,” he finished glumly, filling in words she would not have spoken.
“Aye…such as it is, and yet, I know all will work out, for I have faith inyou. That is more important than anything else, Ian.”
A lazy grin formed on that perfect mouth of his, and she waited for the touch of his lips on hers as his head began to lean down towards her. But fate had other plans in mind when a loud knock came upon the door. They broke apart, and Ian called out to the serfs to enter.
An army of clan members, both men and women, came into the chamber bearing a tub, along with bucket after bucket of water. Drying cloths were laid on the table, along with a change of clothing Lynet prayed would fit. A young girl stood meekly by to assist with her bathing, once she was ready.
Ian leaned down and gave her cheek a quick kiss. “I will leave you to see to your bath, my lady. There are matters I must needs attend to, but I shall endeavor to return as quickly as I can so we may finish our…discussion.”
She just knew a rosy blush heightened the color of her face from his words, especially when she heard his chuckle. She watched him leave, bellowing orders to ensure the room’s furnishing would be made more to his liking. Not knowing how much time she had, Lynet scurried to make herself presentable. After this night, she would be a maid no more.
Chapter Twenty
By the fire, which had been madefor him, Ian sat in a chair that could only be termed uncomfortable. His hazel eyes peered at the interior of the chief’s solar. It did not take much to envision what this room used to look like afore his brother had run the estate into the ground. He had already dismissed the steward, who had given him a grim report of the clan’s state.
