Chapter 10

Maxwell stared at the door for a moment, then realized that it was not locked. He twisted the handle and looked out into the passageway very carefully. It was not well lit, but he could still see, and there was no one there. He was so tempted to go outside, just for some fresh air, but could he risk it?

The weather was foul and becoming worse by the minute, so many people had to work inside who might have been outside. Nevertheless, there were still plenty of empty rooms that he could duck into if he wished. Invercree Castle had something like eighty rooms inside, and he knew his way around most of them quite well. He had spent many hours in this place talking, laughing, and making mischief with the McDonald twins. Then he smiled sadly. How he missed those days!

Dare he try to make his way outside? Since looking out of the window, he had a fair idea of where he was. Most servants' quarters were downstairs at the same level as the kitchens, but in Invercree they were upstairs, for some reason best known to the castle's builders.

He crept out of the room and made his way down the stairs, which had a doorway to every floor, then ended up just outside the kitchen. He could hear the sound of women's voices chattering and laughing amongst themselves as they went about their work. One of them was Kenna's, but he could not make out what she was saying.

Maxwell looked around, unsure of where to go. He did not wish to end up in the dungeon, so he avoided the other stairs that were leading down further underground. He slid along the wall and ended in a storage cupboard, where, to his delight, he found shelves full of cheese, dried and preserved fruit, and vegetables. He grabbed the cheese first and stuffed some in his mouth, then took a jar of preserved pears and a few strips of dried beef. After grabbing a handful of hazelnuts, he went to the door and carefully looked out again.

There was still no one about, so he slid sideways back the way he had come and crept into an alcove under another flight of stairs from where he could not be seen at all. There, he ate his fill and paused for a while, listening to the conversations of those who were passing him, hoping to gather some news or snippets of gossip about anything that would help him. Most people, however, were speaking about the weather, and he learned that the snow had not stopped falling, so it seemed that he was stuck where he was for the time being.

However, he needed to find a way out, and consequently, he crept along the wall again as far as the kitchens and looked inside. Kenna and her mother were conversing in low tones, but it was so quiet that he could hear every word they were saying.

"How many o' these dreams have ye been havin' lately?" Flora was asking Kenna. Her voice sounded anxious.

"Not many," Kenna answered. "That was the first one for ages, Mammy."

"I am worried about ye, hen," her mother said softly. "Ye should be courtin' by now. Many lassies yer age are already married. I dinnae want ye tae end up an auld maid. Havin' a nice, big, warm man in yer bed will help wi' yer bad dreams."

Maxwell heard Kenna's tinkling laughter as he sat motionless in the cramped space, and it made him smile.

"Mammy, if that happens, then it happens. I will still have the fun of being with the children in the castle, and there are many good men in the castle who are my friends."

Flora frowned. "That is no' what I meant, hen, an' ye know it. Do ye no' feel the need o' a man's arms around ye sometimes?"

Kenna sighed. "Mammy, what are you trying to say?"

Flora turned Kenna toward herself.

"One o' the stable lads has been askin' me if he can court ye. I said I was yer mother, no' yer keeper, an' he must ask ye."

Kenna was used to being flirted with in a lighthearted way by many of the men on the staff, but it never came to anything.

"Who is it?" she asked.

She could not remember anyone making his presence especially noticeable to her.

"Roy Nicholson," Flora replied. "Good-lookin' lad, an' a good heart an' a'."

Kenna thought for a moment. She knew the man in question, but only slightly, and while she might have considered him before, now that she had met Ewan, no one else compared. But even as she pondered over it, she dismissed the thought. Ewan was leaving. He had been a diverting interlude in her mundane life, but that was all.

Roy Nicholson was blond, blue-eyed, and tall, with an impressive physique. He worked with the men in the stables, although he had other duties too, and Kenna had always found him pleasant enough to talk to. She would never in a thousand years have thought he would be interested in her, though, since he had so many other admirers.

"I don't think much of a man who is too cowardly to ask me himself." Kenna's voice was scathing. "Let him come and speak to me himself if he can pluck up the courage!"

"I knew ye would say that," Flora replied, chuckling. "Has there never been a boy that caught yer eye, hen? I have never seen ye look at any o' them."

"Not really, Mammy."

Kenna smiled at Flora as she told her the biggest lie of her life. There had been no one at all until two days ago when Ewan Montgomery had come to her and brought life into her otherwise tedious existence.

He was everything she could ever want in a man, but he could never be hers, and not only because he was obviously several steps above her on the social ladder. He had never told her so, granted, but everything about him pointed to it. No, it was because he had erected a wall between them that she could not breach. It was an invisible wall, but it was there nonetheless.

"If any young lad wants to come and talk to me, I am happy to listen, but nobody has." She sighed, then chuckled. "Maybe they are afraid of me."

Flora leaned over and kissed her daughter.

"No' in the way ye mean, hen," she said fondly. "They are afraid ye will push them away because ye are sae lovely. They dinnae feel worthy."

Kenna shook her head, laughing.

"That is the silliest thing I ever heard, Mammy."

She wiped her hands on her apron, then excused herself and made her way out into the corridor again.

From his hideaway, Maxwell watched Kenna as she walked gracefully down the corridor carrying a large basket on her arm. There were no flowers left in the garden, but a fire was kept going in a glasshouse near the kitchen where some exotic flowers could grow late into the year. Kenna was going to pick some, a job she enjoyed because the scent of the roses always clung to her skin for a long time afterward.

As Kenna walked out of the kitchen, she felt a blast of cold wind take her breath away, and she hurried into the glasshouse, her feet already soaked from the carpet of snow on the ground. The warmth and the overwhelming scent of roses wrapped around her like a warm blanket at once, and she stood for a moment, eyes closed, breathing in the luscious scent.

There was a scent she would rather be inhaling, but by now, it would be gone because Ewan was gone.

Maxwell, however, had not gone anywhere. From his position under the stairs, he could see a small staircase he thought led to a parlor on the next floor up. His memory of it was not clear since he had only been down to the kitchen once, and he had been very drunk then. It was a very small room, more like a large cupboard, and although everyone knew it was there, it was rarely used.

When he, Lachlan, and Douglas had gotten together, however, they had often taken their conquests for the evening into it to indulge in a bit of kissing and heavy petting. He smiled at the thought, but his smile faded as he realized the consequences of their dissipated behavior.

If he could get into that room, he would know exactly where he was and hopefully how to make his escape. He watched the entrance to the kitchen, and when he saw some of the kitchen maids leave carrying trays of porridge for the guards' breakfast, he decided to make his move.

He crept forward and tiptoed upstairs, then opened the door slowly. A candle was burning inside, but its light was so faint that he could barely see anything. There was obviously someone there, however, since he could hear the faint sound of breathing and realized the person was sleeping. He hated to think what would happen if they woke, so he decided to leave.

He was about to withdraw through the door again, but he heard the voices of the kitchen maids talking and laughing as they returned to the kitchen. They were bound to see him, so he slipped inside the room and dropped to the floor in order not to be seen by the figure on the couch.

He waited a few more moments then cautiously stood up. And froze. The figure on the couch was Douglas McDonald.

Maxwell was assailed by several different emotions all at once: happiness at seeing him, fear of being caught, and regret that they would never be friends again. Most of all, as he looked at the face that was exactly the same as Lachlan's, Maxwell realized how much he missed the young man who had been as good as a brother to him.

Abruptly, he snapped himself out of his reverie and crept to the door. There was no sound on the other side now, so he opened the door and stepped out, only to collide headlong with Kenna.

For a second, she looked stunned, then she frowned deeply and pointed back to her chamber.

Maxwell looked around frantically, then sped away as quietly as he could, feeling her furious glare on his back. His heart was in his mouth as he ran upstairs into the servants' quarters and went straight to Kenna's room.

A short while later, Kenna entered and stood in front of Maxwell, though she did not shout as he had expected.

"I thought you might have more sense than to go to the kitchen," she said grimly. "Especially at one of the busiest times of the day."

"I am sorry," he said softly. "I don't know my way around very well, and as you say, it is snowing still and doesn't look as though it will stop. I suppose I should stay until I can manage to think of a better plan."

"I left the door open on purpose." Kenna sighed and shrugged. "But I thought you were cleverer than you were! I have to go back to work. Here." She put down half a loaf of stale bread and a cup of milk on the table. "This was the best I could do. I will try to bring something else later."

She turned away, but suddenly Maxwell felt a rush of gratitude. She had done so much for him, and he had been helpless to do anything in return. Not only helpless but stupid.

"Come here." He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. "I managed to find some other food too. Thank you for all you have done for me."

When he let her go, she nodded and ducked out of the door. Maxwell heard the click of the lock and smiled. Although he doubted if he would ever get another chance to escape, just holding her in his arms had been enough to comfort him for a while longer.

Maxwell lay on the bed and thought about his position. Should he tell Kenna who he really was? Perhaps she had already guessed and wanted to wait so that she could turn him in to Laird McDonald, but he dismissed that thought immediately. Living in such an intimate situation with Kenna had allowed him to know much of her character, and by now he knew that she was not dishonest or spiteful. Her heart was too soft for that. But once she found out the truth, would she change her mind about him? Dare he take the chance?

There was the possibility, too, that Douglas would find out he was there. He had been so angry the night of his brother's death that Maxwell knew with utter certainty that if Douglas found him, he was as good as dead. He remembered his friend's face on that fateful day, and he could not bear to think of what he would do to him if he were unfortunate enough to fall into his clutches.

Once again, he visualized Lachlan crumpled on the floor, his head at an odd angle, and the sound of his neck breaking and his head hitting the stone. It was stomach-churning, and he still suffered nightmares because of it, but not like the ones Kenna had, thank goodness. At least he had not lost his family.

He picked up the book she had lent him and began to read it, but after a while he realized that he was reading the same page over and over again. He slapped his hand onto it and growled.

"Damn you, Kenna! What are you doing to me?"