Chapter 9

9

Gavin was troubled; he had no idea how to tell Maura the truth without confessing to her who he really was. However, that would put her in extreme danger because the Duncairn men were very unlikely to believe that she had not known his identity. After all, he was not exactly inconspicuous. There were plenty of men with red hair in Scotland, but not many who were over six feet tall.

Perhaps he could just flee in the night, he thought. Yet, that left the same problem as before; Maura would not know who he truly was and why he was leaving, and she would still be in danger. Anyway, he had only a few coins in his pocket, and he would need money for food and lodging. Moreover, he simply could not abandon her in that way; it would hurt her far too much. He poured himself an ale and sat down in front of the fire to think, but although he turned the problem over and over in his mind, he could come up with no solution. He would have to leave, but he would also need to make up some plausible excuse to give to Maura. No—not an excuse—she deserved the truth.

I am such a coward, he thought bitterly. He had brought all of this on himself, and now other innocent people were going to suffer because of him.

He had no doubt at all that the men chasing him were totally ruthless. They had tried to kill him and had almost succeeded in killing his friend. What would they do to Maura if they got hold of her? Gavin could not bear to think of the possibilities. There were many guards who were only employed because they had to support their families, but they were not all like that. Some actively enjoyed cruelty and the infliction of pain. Gavin shuddered at the thought of these men laying hands on Maura.

Just then, as if he had conjured her up, Maura appeared. She was wearing a plain grey woollen dress, and her golden-brown hair was loose and flowed down her back like a shining river. In the half-dark of the small room, the firelight bathed her in a golden glow. She might have been clothed like an ordinary working-class woman, but he thought she was as beautiful as Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love he had learned about in his classics lessons.

“Ah, there ye are,” she said. “I wanted tae talk tae ye. Why are ye all wet?” She looked troubled as she sat down. She was keeping a good distance between them, which had been her practice ever since their kiss, as if she was afraid that sitting too close to him would invite more temptation.

Gavin gazed at her, trying to pull himself together as his treacherous man’s body responded to her in the most primitive way possible. He would have dearly loved to kiss her again, but he was not sure of her response. “I forgot to bring my boots inside after I came in from washing, but by the time I picked them up they were soaked—and so was I.” He gave a self-conscious laugh. He was not a good liar, and they both felt ill at ease as they faced each other.

“I wanted tae have a word wi’ ye,” she said, looking down at her hands. “I was a bit drunk the other day, an’ I shouldnae have kissed ye like that. I am very sorry.”

Gavin’s first response was to laugh and say that he was glad that she had kissed him, but as he looked at her face, he saw that she was truly distressed and embarrassed.

“There is no need to be, Maura,” he said softly. “I did not exactly push you away, did I? I think we both enjoyed it—it was a moment of madness that happens to everybody once in a while. You have nothing to reproach yourself for, so be at ease.”

Maura looked up at him and gave him a tentative smile. “Thank ye. You are a wonderful friend.” However, when she saw the expression in his eyes, she was concerned. “What is troublin’ ye, Gavin?” she asked, concerned.

He leaned his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands for a moment before gazing at Maura again. He wanted to laugh at the thought of their ever being friends because after the kiss he knew that his feelings towards Maura had changed. Perhaps they had always been strong, and he had just not realised it before now, or had been too scared to admit it to himself. He knew that he had been attracted to her since the first time he had seen her.

However, now he had to answer her question, but how could he do it without giving himself away? He wanted to tell her the truth, but he would have to be very, very careful. Gavin stood up and moved restlessly to the window, where he could see that the rain was still pouring down with a vengeance. He sighed.

“I was just thinking about the children,” he said. “They seem much happier now, but so many of them have come from tragic pasts. Does Laird Jamieson know about them?”

Maura shrugged. “I dinnae know,” she answered. “I know that if he did, he likely wouldnae care. He sits in his castle a’ day an’ does whatever Lairds dae. Why should he care about ordinary folk like us?” Her voice was bitter and disdainful.

“Do you think a better Laird would make any difference?” Gavin asked. “After all, he is just one man among many, and he might be receiving bad advice.”

Maura stood up and moved across to him so that she could look into his eyes. He looked troubled, she thought, and she wondered if he was keeping something from her. After all, he was a stranger who had appeared from nowhere and had come to completely dominate her life. She thought about him constantly, but she did not even know his surname because he had never told her and always changed the subject when she asked.

Now, however, he was asking her a serious question, the answer to which seemed extremely important to him. She took a good look at him; she had never stopped to think about how a man like him had acquired such a powerful physique.

Someone had once told her that in olden times people used to pull ploughs, but she had not believed them. Of course, that would not happen now, but if it did, she could imagine Gavin doing it—he looked strong enough.

But he was obviously from a higher stratum of society than she was; he simply did not fit in here, so what was he not telling her?

“Well, that is a strange question tae ask.” Maura shook herself out of her musings and thought for a moment before answering. “I think a kind man would dae a good job anywhere because people dinnae like cruelty. But a soft character, he wouldnae last five minutes round here.

People can aye see weakness in a person, an’ they will take advantage o’ it, make nae mistake, so a good Laird would have tae be a strong man, but no’ a cruel one. He would have tae treat people fairly an’ help them in hard times. He would have tae protect them. A man like that would have the loyalty o’ his tenants, an’ he would be loved.

I think it has been proven time an’ time again that a good leader an’ a good Laird is worth a hundred ordinary men. Is Laird Jamieson a good man? I dinnae know. We never see him. His steward comes tae collect the rent every quarter fae the tenants,” she shrugged. “An’ that is as close as we get tae him.”

Gavin frowned deeply and was so quiet that Maura said, “Why are ye askin’ these questions, Gavin?”

For a moment, he dithered between telling her his story or not; would telling her put her in more danger because they would know she had been protecting him? Or would it be a case of being forewarned and therefore forearmed? He decided on the latter.

“I know that you have always thought of me as being very mysterious,” he began. “But that was intentional on my part, since I have many enemies, people from my past who want to harm, or even kill me.

However, I was mistaken in thinking I could come here and fade into the background. I stick out like a sore thumb, and I have done nothing to help myself. I wanted to stay out of sight, be the man in the cellar who shifts barrels and milks your cows and does jobs around the house and garden.

I should have done so, but I am ashamed to say that I am accustomed to the attention of ladies and I enjoy it, so you saw a use for that and exploited it.” He raised his hand as he saw the indignant look that appeared on Maura’s face. “I do not blame you for that, Maura. I would have done the same if I were in your shoes. The world is a cruel place, and we have to do what we can to survive, but I was thinking only of myself as I so often do, and I put you in danger.”

Maura’s primitive animal instinct for self-preservation had been aroused now, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she stared at him, thoroughly confused and alarmed.

“You say there are people that want tae harm ye,” she stated. “What kind o’ people? Are ye a thief? A murderer?” She was unconsciously backing away from him as she spoke, putting the table between them as she neared the back door.

Gavin saw the fear in her eyes and felt even more ashamed. He dropped his gaze from hers and took a step towards her, then took her gently by her upper arms and held her until she relaxed.

“You said I was a good man once,” he reminded her, his voice gentle. “Do you still believe that?”

Maura could not deny the truth of that. If Gavin had wanted to harm her, he could have used his sheer strength to do so, but she had recognised his innate kindness since the first moment she met him.

He felt her relaxing, and he was stiff waiting for her answer.

“I still believe ye are a good man,” she replied, smiling.

Gavin turned away and sat down, but Maura stayed where she was. It was time he shared more things about him, since Maura had been nothing but honest.

“Perhaps it’s time I told you a little bit more about myself,” he began. “But first, I need to ask you something.”

“Ask away,” Maura said. She looked a little apprehensive, but very curious.

“If you had a good friend who needed your help badly, would you help them?” He felt as though he was begging, and was embarrassed.

“I would never refuse tae help a friend.”

Gavin took a deep breath. “Would you come away with me to Laird Jamieson’s castle? To be safe? I am afraid that the people who are after me may want to harm you too.”

Maura was deeply puzzled. “Why would they want tae hurt me?” she asked, frowning. “Who are ye? It is no’ just anybody who can walk intae the castle o’ a Laird. Dae ye know him well?”

“Our fathers were friends,” Gavin replied. This was not strictly true, but it was not a lie either. The two men had been merely negotiating a potential alliance—secured Gavin and Elspeth’s marriage—when Laird Forsyth died.

“So, who is your father?” she asked.

“Was. He is dead now, as is my mother.” He clasped his hands together in front of his face and thought of the last time he had seen his mother. She had said farewell to him with a strange intensity that day. Looking back, he could almost suppose that she knew what was about to happen.

“Goodbye, son,” she had murmured as she hugged him and kissed his cheek. There had been tears in her eyes, and he had laughed as he wiped them away for her.

“Heavens, Mother!” he said, laughing. “I will see you in two weeks. You’re not going away forever.”

“Of course not,” she replied, smiling. “I am being silly.” She had given him one last loving look and climbed into the carriage.

He never saw either of his parents again.

The memory came back to him as clear as day as he sat opposite Maura, and she saw the shadow of sadness in his eyes. She was about to give him some words of comfort when he said, “My full name is Gavin Ewan Forsyth, Laird of Duncairn.”

Maura gave a gasp of shock. “You—a Laird?” she asked, her voice high with disbelief.

Gavin nodded slowly. “A very bad one, I’m afraid,” he confessed. “The only reason I am here now is because of the help and the heroism of a very good friend. You see, when my parents died, I took my sadness out on everyone else. I became harsh and insensitive because I was so angry that I needed to make everyone else suffer. I was angry at myself for letting them go to their deaths that day. I was even angry with the coach driver, even though it was not his fault that their carriage went into the river. Worst of all, I was angry at them for dying.”

Gavin paused to collect his thoughts before telling her the worst part of his story. “I let the family down. I treated everyone with contempt—even my tenants, and the estate began to suffer. Several of the elders came to reason with me and begged me to change my ways, but I only took my fury out on them, though they did not deserve it. They were only trying to help me, but I threw it back in their faces.

After a while, they could take no more, and they came to take care of the problem once and for all, my death would be the solution.” He sighed heavily then stood up and crossed the room to fetch more ale, not because he really wanted any, but because he could hardly bear to look at Maura.

“Looking back, I can see that if I had to deal with a person like the one I was then, I might have done the same.” He took a sip of his beer; it tasted foul, but Gavin swallowed it anyway. He knew there was nothing wrong with it; the problem was him. “Anyway, as I said, my friend, the Captain of the Guard, came to rescue me. I thought he had been killed while doing it, but today I was overjoyed to find he was still alive.

He came to give me a warning; apparently my enemies have found out I still breathe and are sending out people to kill me. God knows, I deserve such a fate, but I am more worried about you. I don’t want my association with you to put you in any danger.”

Maura stood up and slowly backed away from him. She was incandescent with rage, and her face showed it; her eyes were blazing. She could not believe that she had been so easily deceived, she, who had always congratulated herself on being such a fine judge of human nature. Now, as she glared at the man she had actually thought she loved, she felt fury boiling up inside her until eventually, it erupted.

Her voice was throbbing with fury as she said, “Tae think I trusted a hypocrite like you. Ye never cared about your people—only about yourself! I cannae believe I was foolish enough tae have faith in a piece o’ filth like you that even his own people dinnae want, and’ I was stupid not tae see the truth in the first place. Ye fooled me.”

“Wait!” Gavin cried. “I never set out to hurt anybody. I was just in so much pain myself that I lashed out.”

“An’ ye think ye are the only one who has ever lost a loved one?” Maura was scathing, and she looked him up and down with disgust as she once more backed away from him. “It was your family that poisoned our water an’ killed my parents. If I had known who ye were, I would have let ye freeze tae death the first night ye came here. I should have turned ye away, but like a fool, I fed ye an’ gave ye a bed for the night, an’ I thought underneath a’ your nastiness there was a good man. I was wrong. Ye disgust me!”

“Let me explain—” Gavin began to speak, but she cut him off.

“No! Not another word,” Maura yelled. “I am no’ a monster, so I will gie ye time tae pack your bags an’ hit the road. Go an’ finish your shift an’ I will pay ye what ye are owed, then go. I never want tae see ye again.” She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.