Chapter 11

11

Maura and Gavin were both exhausted by closing time, having been both physically and emotionally drained by the events of the day.

When he left, Gavin went straight to his room and closed the door behind him. He said nothing to Maura as he marched past her, and she felt unaccountably wounded by his silence. She watched his broad shoulders and strong, muscular backside and legs as he turned the corner to go to his chamber and felt a stab of pure sadness. In spite of everything she had said to him, she knew she was going to miss him dreadfully, since she had become used to his sense of humour, intelligence, and charm.

As well as that, the ladies loved him and the worthier men respected him. She cared nothing about the ones who were scared of him; that suited her purposes perfectly. Gavin’s strength made her feel protected and safe, and when a newcomer came to the tavern, he usually took one look at him and decided to behave with respect.

Maura smiled at the thought; bullies did not last long in the Goose and Gander . Then she sighed. Had she been too hard on Gavin? He had, after all, admitted his fault and asked for her forgiveness. In fact, he had been so humble he had all but kissed her feet!

Maura suddenly felt wretched. If Gavin stayed here and was murdered, would it do any good? Would it bring her parents back? No, and it would put not just her, but everyone in Carmalcolm in danger.

Suddenly, she came to a decision.

Gavin silently did his job of sweeping the floor, which he would normally have scrubbed in the morning. However, there would be no more scrubbing, he thought. He had hated the job at first, but after a while it had become like a contest to see who would win—the floor or him. Would it win the battle to stay dirty or would he conquer it and clean it? Gavin laughed softly at the thought. He needed something to laugh at to help him get through the next few painful moments.

He had precious little to pack, since he had arrived with next to nothing and had acquired only a couple of second-hand shirts and a pair of breeches since he had come to live in Carmalcolm.

It was in stark contrast to the enormous wardrobe and drawers full of clothes he had possessed while living in the Castle at Duncairn. He had rarely had to wear anything more than three times. This was because a gentleman, especially a Laird or a Laird’s son, could not be seen wearing a garment too many times, lest people think he was too poor to buy new clothes. In a world where status was everything, this could be devastating to his reputation.

The shallowness of it all had become apparent to Gavin as he had watched ordinary people sew up holes and patch their garments to make them last longer. Older siblings passed their clothes down to their younger brothers and sisters when they grew out of them, and when they were absolutely worn out, they were used as cleaning cloths or turned into patchwork quilts. Absolutely nothing was wasted.

All these thoughts passed through Gavin’s mind as he reflected on how much he had learned from his experiences among the working people. He had made some friends, learned to laugh at himself, and had been surprised at how much these people, whom he had thought of as being ignorant, knew about the world outside the village.

He had also learned to be more self-sufficient because there was no one here to wash or mend his clothes, so he had been obliged to do it himself, helped by Maura, who had taught him some basic sewing. He was surprised how much satisfaction it gave him.

Gavin had not realised until now what a sheltered, privileged life he had been living, and he was ashamed that he had so much and always wanted more. These simple people were grateful to have food, clothing, and a roof over their heads, but no doubt they wanted more too. The difference was that they deserved it, while Gavin Forsyth definitely did not.

The last thing he had to stuff in his sack was the embroidered cushion Maura had made for him. It was not heavy, but quite bulky, and Gavin contemplated leaving it behind. Then he realised how much comfort it had given him over the months he had been in the village. He had laid his head on it every night and slept on it. It contained all his dreams, and all his fantasies of Maura were stuffed inside it. Granted, it might be unwieldy and difficult to carry, but he would carry it, safeguard and treasure it because it had become so precious to him.

His cloak was still damp, but he donned it anyway; no doubt he would need it later, since it was freezing outside, even though the rain had stopped. He had taken a blanket with him and left a few pence on the bed as payment. He would never take people’s humble possessions for granted again.

“Ye dinnae have tae go yet.” He heard Maura’s voice from behind him. It was soft, quite unlike the tone she had used in their conversation earlier. He ignored her. He did not have the time nor the inclination to argue with her any more.

He reasoned that if he took no notice of Maura for long enough she would get the message then be quiet and leave him alone, but he had reckoned without her stubbornness. Maura was nothing if not persistent.

Gavin sighed and looked around himself, then under the bed, to make sure he had left nothing behind. Satisfied that he had not, he stuffed the last few items in his sack, then pulled the rope that was threaded through its neck tight and slung it over his shoulder. At last, he was ready.

He moved towards the door, meaning to sidestep around Maura, but she anticipated his move and blocked his way, and when he tried to go to the other side she did the same thing. Gavin could easily have shoved her aside or lifted her up and moved her away, but he did neither of those things, merely waited for her to speak again.

“Dae ye even know the way tae Ardneuk Castle?” Maura asked desperately. “There is more rain in the air—ye could freeze tae death, Gavin. It is too dangerous tae travel in weather like this in the dark. Ye dinnae even know if the Laird will let ye in.”

Gavin kept on studiously disregarding her, even though his patience was wearing very thin.

“Dae ye know the way?” she asked again, and this time he answered.

Gavin looked at her scornfully and gave a cynical laugh. “And if I didn’t know the way and froze to death, would you care?” He was puzzled. “Why all the concern, Maura? Why have you changed your tune? A wee while ago, you were determined to see the back of me. Why have you suddenly changed your mind?”

He stepped close to her and looked down into her face, green eyes staring into blue, and they stood that way for a while, with neither willing to back down. Maura had always been able to stand her ground in contests like these, and she did now. Her heart was racing, her whole body trembling with awareness of his close proximity. Despite herself, and all that had passed between them, she wanted to pull him towards her and repeat their passionate kiss.

“Why have I changed my mind?” Maura folded her arms as Gavin looked away and began to fiddle with the straps of the sack. “Because I am a woman o’ common sense, M’Laird. ” She stressed his title to restore the formality between them, letting him know that there was to be no more intimacy, no matter how much both of them wanted it. “If you settle your feud wi’ your family, you an’ Laird Jamieson can start tae fix the problems on your estates. That would be good for everybody, would it no’?”

“Yes,” Gavin had to admit. “It would.”

“So ye see, it is no’ in my best interests tae let ye be murdered.” Maura sighed, almost as if she wished the opposite were true. “So I think the best thing tae dae is for both o’ us tae leave at first light. I want tae see that ye get there safely.”

He smiled suddenly. “Should I not be looking after you?” he asked. “I am the bigger of the two of us—and I am quite good at making short work of anyone who has bad intentions towards you.”

“That is true,” Maura agreed, “but dae ye know the way tae the castle fae here? It is no’ a straight road, an’ ye might get lost. That is why I dinnae want ye tae go in the dark. As soon as ye are there, I will come back here.”

“How far away is it?” he asked curiously. Strangely, he had not thought of this before, and now he was not sure if he had packed enough food.

“About eight miles,” she answered. “Ardneuk is a bigger place than this one, as ye know, but walkin’ there will take us a’ day. I wish I had a horse, but…” She shrugged and looked down at her feet. “I suppose these will have tae dae the job.”

“You are a remarkable woman,” Gavin said softly, with a relieved sigh. He smiled as he reached out to caress her cheek. “I am so glad we will not be parting with harsh words between us because our friendship means a lot to me, Maura. Thank you for being my friend, even though I do not deserve it.”

Maura had not moved away from him as he spoke, and as his gaze drifted to her lips, she began to feel the same pleasant tingling all over her body and the sweet pulse beating between her legs. Abruptly, she realised what was happening and took a step back, not willing to endure any more temptation in case she succumbed.

“I am returning the favour tae a friend who has helped me many times,” she told him. “It is just a ‘thank ye,’ so dinnae get any ideas, M’Laird.”

“Of course it is,” Gavin said, but he continued to smile at her with his warm smile full of some emotion Maura dared not put a name to because she thought she might be feeling it herself.

She backed away from him a little more, feeling that it was best to put some extra distance between them, then asked, “What will you dae when ye get tae the castle?”

Gavin hesitated for a moment before answering. “To get the Laird’s favour, I will have to do what he and my father were planning for years. I will have to marry Elspeth, his daughter. Then we can both go and negotiate with the traitors who took my home.” He was furious.

Maura felt a wave of jealousy pass over her. “Have ye met her before?” she asked, trying to sound only casually interested.

“Many times,” he replied. Maura watched for a sign of emotion in his face, but there was nothing. He was totally expressionless. “But if you don’t mind, Maura, I would rather not talk about her.”

Gavin turned away and pulled his cushion out of his sack, then he pulled it to his chest and tightened his arms around it. It was a strange gesture, one that suggested to Maura that the cushion represented something—or someone—else, or that he was deriving comfort from it.

Maura laughed, although she was seething with jealousy inside. “Aye, well, that is one o’ the only good things about bein’ poor,” she observed. “Naebody cares who ye marry.”

Gavin almost laughed. When it came to intelligence, Maura was streets ahead of anyone else he could think of. If she had been the daughter of a wealthy merchant, a rich farmer or a Laird, he would have married her in a heartbeat, and society would have applauded.

However, as things stood, he would never be able to do so without losing everything, and he did not want to come to her with empty hands if it had been possible. He could see her standing in the church wearing a blue dress to match her eyes as they pledged their future to each other, and their wedding night… He jerked himself back to reality at the thought of that. It would never happen, he told himself sternly.

Maura became brisk. “Time ye were in bed,” she told him. “We will have tae set off early.”

Gavin stepped forward and caught her hand, intending to thank her again, but when he tried to raise it to his lips, Maura snatched it away and gave him a poisonous look.

“We will no’ be crossin’ that line again,” she told him. “Goodnight, Gavin. Make sure ye are ready in the mornin’.”

With that, she left, and Gavin stared at the door for a few moments before climbing into bed, still cuddling his cushion. He wished with his whole heart that he was holding Maura, but she held him in such contempt that he knew it was never going to happen.

Maura had to make up an excuse for her absence for the next two days, so she needed to rack her brains to come up with something her uncle would believe. It would not be too hard, she reasoned, since he was drunk most of the time anyway. She smiled grimly at the thought of his rage if he knew what she was actually going to do. He always liked to be in charge of every move she made.

Maura owned only one precious thing, apart from her embroideries. It was a long mirror that her mother had been given by a lady whom she had helped when her carriage had become stuck in the mud by the side of the road. It was a thing of beauty; oval, with a golden-gilded wooden frame that had been intricately carved into the shape of delicate flowers that edged the glass.

Whenever she looked into it, as she was doing now, Maura felt a pang of sadness as she remembered her beloved Mammy. It was especially precious to her because it had been given, not only out of love, but as a celebration, since Maura had become a woman the day before, and had begun a whole new chapter of her life. She was thirteen years old, the prettiest girl in the village, and Mammy had delicately explained to her everything that would change in her life from then on.

“So, ye see, darlin’,” she had said, as she came to the end of her little speech. “There are many things ye will have tae be careful o’ fae now on. As your body changes, boys will start tae look at ye in a different way, an’ ye must be very watchful because they sometimes want tae dae things ye will nae like, so ye must always stand up for yourself. Dae ye understand?”

Maura had not quite understood everything, and she had been a little scared, but now, as she looked at herself standing naked before the mirror, she silently thanked Mammy for her wisdom. How lucky she had been to be blessed with such wonderful parents, and how she wished her Mammy were here to counsel her now.

She took one last look at herself, wondering what Gavin would think of her body. Would he find her desirable? Then she dismissed the thought; it would never matter anyway. Her future would likely be decided by her uncle, and the best she could hope for was a solid young farm hand or perhaps a tradesman. There would be no Lairds or rich young gentlemen for her. She closed her eyes, but it was a long time until sleep claimed her.