Chapter 11

Kenna had an afternoon off that day, but she simply could not face the idea of going back to her chamber knowing that Maxwell was there. He was altogether too masculine, and his presence affected her in ways she could not quite comprehend. Everything about him attracted her, and it was quite overwhelming, but although the feeling was unsettling, it was somehow pleasant, and Kenna was completely confused. She was dreading him leaving while wishing he would go.

He had held her close to him twice now, and the feeling of his strong arms around her made her feel safe in a way she never had before. The kiss they had shared had been an experience that had been so shattering she could still feel it.

She thought of his warm, moist, pliant lips caressing hers, the stroking of his tongue, and the thud of his heartbeat against her chest. None of the stable boys and grooms had put their tongues in her mouth or nibbled her lips. None of them had really known what they were doing but licked and fumbled their way through a kiss as best they could. Ewan was a mature man who had no doubt kissed and pleasured dozens of women, and the thought made her shiver with remembered delight.

It was noon, and although the sky was bright blue, the snow had made the air freezing cold. Even so, Kenna donned her hat and thick woolen coat and was about to leave the castle to go for a walk when Flora came running up to her, looking frantic.

"Where are ye goin'?" she asked anxiously, her face contorted with fear.

"Just for a walk, Mammy," Kenna answered.

She loved to go walking in the crisp winter air, but today she had a special purpose. She wanted to go to the site of her parents' house to see if she could remember anything about that terrible day when her life had changed forever. She had never done it before because she had always been too afraid, but now something had given her the courage…or perhaps it was someone.

"No' in this weather ye're not!" Flora took Kenna by the elbow and pointed to the sky, which was already beginning to darken. "It's nearly night an' there is more snow in the air. You could slip an' hurt yerself an' no' be able tae get up, then die o' the cold. No, my lass. Ye are stayin' inside."

Kenna allowed herself to be dragged back inside, realizing that her mother was right. Now she wondered what she was going to do with herself for the rest of the afternoon.

"What is the matter wi' ye today?" Flora asked, concerned. She put a hand on Kenna's shoulder and looked into her eyes. "Yer head is somewhere else, I can see."

"I am just tired, Mammy," Kenna replied as she flopped down at the kitchen table. "I thought a walk in the fresh air might be good for me."

Flora flapped a dishcloth at her. "When I am tired, I usually find that the best idea is tae go tae sleep."

She looked at the other two kitchen maids, who were chopping vegetables for their opinion. They both nodded in agreement. It was never a good idea to argue with the cook on the subject of her daughter because everyone knew that she could be more than a little overprotective.

"Ye look a wee bit peaky, hen," Jean McFarlane remarked. She poured Kenna a cup of ale, and she smiled her thanks. "Maybe ye should take a wee nap as yer mammy says."

"Yes, maybe I will," Kenna said, yawning. "With this ceilidh coming tomorrow night, I think we will all need as much sleep as we can get."

Jean rolled her eyes. "At least we dinnae have Maxwell Forbes comin'!" she said thankfully, sighing.

"I have never met him," Kenna remarked.

She knew the story, of course—everyone did—but she had only ever seen him from a distance and had always been too busy to take any notice of him.

"He's no' goin' tae kill anybody, anyway," Flora remarked. "He's likely hundreds o' miles away."

Jean and her friend Heather laughed, but Kenna was thinking. Ewan was a tall and bulky man too. Could they be one and the same? Then she dismissed the thought. A man would have to be very stupid to come back to a house where he had committed such a heinous crime.

In the end, she forgot about going to sleep and spent her free afternoon doing nothing but chatting and laughing with her friends. Incredibly, she found that their easy company was all that she needed to lift her spirits. Yet the thought of Ewan as a possible killer stuck at the back of her mind for a long time.

When she returned to her chamber after a hearty dinner, she had managed to conceal some food and ale to take to Ewan. She found him lying on the bed, engrossed in the book she had given him, and once more she was struck by his size. He truly was the biggest man she had ever met.

He looked up as she entered and was about to stand up, but she motioned for him to sit while she spread his food on the table. When she allowed him to sit down, he smiled at her before he began to eat. It was a tender smile, an expression that no cruel person could give, and she had no doubt that he had a good heart.

"Thank you, Kenna. You are too good to me," he said softly. "I don't deserve you."

Kenna was dreading the ceilidh. She always found the noise and the crush of bodies almost overwhelming, not to mention the occasional lecherous guest who tried to touch her inappropriately. But Kenna and the rest of the female staff were relieved to find that there was one new rule in place.

If Laird McDonald found that any of his staff was being abused by any of his guests, there would be one warning. If the offense was repeated, the guest would never be invited again. If there was one thing he had learned from the death of his son, it was that young drunk men were a menace.

Laird and Lady McDonald had taken their son's death very hard and had vowed revenge on their son's killer. It had been especially hard on Douglas, who was now the sole heir to Invercree Estate since he had lost the brother who had almost been part of him. Kenna had known loss too, but she had been too young for it to have been more than a distant memory. She could not imagine how Laird and Lady McDonald coped; she was sure she would never have had the strength.

This, a ceilidh to celebrate Lady McDonald's birthday, was to be the first time they had entertained guests since Lachlan's death. She had only discarded her mourning clothes a few weeks before and was now dressed in pale lilac, one of the half-mourning colors. Nevertheless, it flattered her fair complexion, and Kenna thought she looked enchanting.

Kenna felt infinitely sorry for her since it was obvious to her that Lady McDonald was putting on a brave face. Perhaps it would not have been apparent to anyone who had not lost a loved one, but Kenna could see the sorrow behind her smile.

She had no time to think about it, however, since she was so busy that the evening went by in a blur of activity. She was only able to snatch a moment now and again to rest and recover her energy, and during one of these, she met Jean again.

"Who is that lady over there?" Kenna asked, pointing to a small, heavily pregnant woman with fair hair.

"That is Lady Lindsey Gilchrist of Auchnashiel," Jean replied. "She is the sister o' the man who killed young Lachlan. Her husband is Laird James Gilchrist."

"Why have I never seen her before?" Kenna asked. "And why is she here? I would have thought she would be the last person to be invited."

"She hardly ever comes out," Jean replied, shrugging. "Especially since she got wi' child. It is no' right for a woman tae show herself in that state if ye ask me. But I think the two families are tryin' tae make peace. I am astonished any o' them had the brass neck tae show their faces, invited or no'."

She spat the words out with such spite that Kenna was shocked. Did everyone feel this way about them? After all, whatever Maxwell Forbes had done, the family was not to blame in any way. The fact that Laird McDonald had agreed to make peace was an enormous testament to the quality of his character.

A moment later Kenna had to go back to work, and she forgot all about the woman. As far as she was concerned, it was the family's way of moving on and was no business of hers.

The night wore on, and by the time those guests who were leaving were preparing to go home, Kenna was exhausted. A few family members were staying over, and that meant more work than usual in the morning. She felt as though she could sleep for a fortnight.

At last, the crockery and cutlery were cleared away, and the staff was able to retire to bed. It was only as she walked along the passage to her chamber that Kenna remembered she had promised Ewan something to eat. She had been too busy to drop anything off to him earlier, and by now any leftovers would have been divided up amongst the staff. Only the mixed-up, inedible food would be left, and that was destined for the pigs.

Damn you, Kenna! she thought irritably. He will be ravenous! What are you going to say to him? She stopped outside her door to gather her wits, then took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

The single candle in the room had almost burnt down to a stump, but it was still giving off a feeble light. The fire was almost out, and only a few glowing embers were left. Nevertheless, she could still make out the figure of Ewan sprawled on his back on the bed. One leg was hanging over the side; he was snoring softly, clutching the book she had given him close to his chest.

Kenna smiled, feeling infinitely grateful that she did not have to tell him that he was going to starve that night. Gently, she took the book out of his hand, and he stirred but did not move. She studied his face for a while. He always seemed to look younger in his sleep since all the worries of the day had been smoothed away, and she felt the now familiar but unwelcome flood of arousal. Damn! What was it about this man that he could make her feel this way?

She shooed the thought away, for she had more to worry about. She was faced with a rather awkward predicament. Should she wake him up or leave him where he was? Despite his somewhat inelegant position, he seemed to be sleeping very soundly, so she decided to take pity on him and leave him undisturbed.

I am going to regret this in the morning, she thought as she spread one of the blankets on the floor and lay down on it. The carpet underneath her was rough and uncomfortable, even with the blanket on top, but Kenna was so weary that despite her discomfort, she fell asleep almost at once.