Chapter 3

3

Gavin lay for a long while, trying to tamp down his feelings of anger and betrayal. He had received so many shocks in one day that he was surprised he had managed to stay alive. First, the invasion of the castle, then his stable boy—his stable hand, for god’s sake—robbing him blind, then a fight with two complete strangers. He had almost been happy about that because it had allowed him to release all his pent-up fury and frustration, but there was one thing that had made the day just about bearable: Maura.

He had not met such a lovely woman for a long, long time. Everything about her was sensual and beautiful, and yet he could see that she was keenly intelligent as well, and that was a quality he valued highly. In his time, he had met many attractive young ladies, but not many of them could have upheld their own point of view in a debate, except if it concerned the latest fashions!

It irked him immensely as he realised that Maura was completely wasted in the crude and uncouth environment in which she found herself. She was working amongst the lowest of the low and under the thumb of an absolute fool who was almost constantly inebriated. What a waste!

What a pity she was not of the same stratum of society as that which he inhabited, Gavin reflected. He would be proud to have her on his arm at wedding celebrations, feasts and ceilidhs—and not only on his arm. No, he would love to have her in his bed too. His body stiffened at the thought as he tried to visualise that beautifully curved body pressed against him, those bright blue eyes looking into his with an expression of love.

He thought about that for a moment, then dismissed the idea as completely fanciful. There was another emotion that was much more fitting; lust. Maura was not equipped to fit into his life—or at least the privileged life he had enjoyed up till now—and he would not encourage her to think she was. Of course, he had no idea whether he would ever live that life again, or if this chaotic situation was all he had to look forward to.

Moreover, he knew himself to be incapable of love. He had left it behind him a long time ago—life had battered it out of him.

Gavin had thought he would not be able to rest, but he was more exhausted than he had ever been in his life, and he surrendered to sleep soon enough. To his surprise, he slept deeply and dreamlessly and woke up well-rested and refreshed. There was still light coming in, and it seemed he had slept for the entire day and night.

It took him a few moments to remember where he was, since he was used to waking up in a soft feather bed in a room with elaborate plasterwork on the ceiling as the first thing he saw. There were no brocade curtains or paintings in ornate frames, merely rough, undecorated plaster walls and a straw-covered floor.

When he went through the events of the previous days, he groaned; how had he ended up here? It was not his fault that the clan elders thought him hateful. He was only a man, after all, not a god, and he could not be charitable to everyone all the time. Perhaps they thought he was incompetent, but the estate was running smoothly and profitably. It was a mystery.

Abruptly, Gavin heard voices outside the door of the little cubicle in which he was lying. He had promised to work for his keep, and he was a man of his word, so he supposed he ought to rise and see what was expected of him.

However, when he looked down at himself, he realised that he was filthy. He sighed, rose from his mattress and dusted himself down as best he could. He had a bag with one change of clothing in it, and even that was not very clean. Gavin peeped out of the door, hoping that there was no one near who could see him and ask questions of him. He wanted to find Maura and ask her precisely what she needed of him, but he could not find her anywhere.

He stepped outside and walked a little way to see what surrounded the tavern, then he found the burn that ran behind it. This was a stroke of good fortune, he thought, since he needed a good wash, and even if the water was freezing, it was clear and clean. He would have to take a deep breath, brace himself and endure the shock; after all, he had done it plenty of times before when he was a boy.

He stood looking at the brown, peaty stream for a few moments, then quickly stripped off his clothes, took a deep breath and jumped in before he had another moment to think about what he was doing.

The freezing water closed over his head and he felt its painful sting at once; he drew in a breath but immediately coughed out a lungful of cold water and spat into the stream.

The icy water was so cold that it burned him, but he gritted his teeth and began to scrub himself with a stone that he had found on the bed of the stream, desperate to be finished with the torture he was putting himself through. Gavin thought he had prepared himself sufficiently, but nothing could have readied him for this!

Suddenly, he remembered that he had brought nothing with which he could dry himself. He could not stand in the water any longer without his extremities going absolutely numb, so he turned around to climb out—and came face to face with the last person he wanted to see.

Maura had gone to her small chamber the other night with her thoughts full of the tall, handsome, rugged stranger who had rescued her from being hurt. She was at a loss to understand how a man like him was wandering aimlessly around the countryside.

His clothes, although dirty, were well-made and obviously expensive, and he spoke with a cultured, upper-class accent. Yet, there was something sad and bereft about him; he was obviously incredibly lonely, and her heart went out to him. She could identify with that, since loneliness had been her lot since her parents died.

Granted, she had had a couple of offers of marriage, but neither of the men were the type of person with whom she could ever contemplate sharing her life. She wanted children, but she had resigned herself to the fact that she would never have any.

Now, as Maura went down to the burn to fetch a bucket of water, she was so distracted that when she looked up to see him right in front of her, she thought she was hallucinating. She blinked. No, he was still there!

Gavin was standing in the water with his back to the shore, washing himself. Maura’s eyes widened as she looked at the kind of male body she had only ever seen in her dreams. As she watched, he turned around and her mouth dropped open.

His shoulders were broad, his chest wide and his arms powerful. His torso was lined with rows of muscles that tapered down to a narrow waist and hips. Maura could see no more because of the depth of the water in which he was standing. How she wished she could!

They stood looking at each other for a stunned moment, then Gavin barked, “What are you staring at?”

Maura put her bucket down in case she was tempted to hit him over the head with it. “God only knows,” she retorted angrily. “Looks like some eejit that wants tae freeze tae death!”

“Get me some clothes then!” he demanded. “And something to dry myself with!”

“What dae ye think I am?” she spat back. “Your slave?” She gave him a look that would have felled a lesser man then went to find a piece of fabric for him to dry himself with. She threw it to him and laughed when it almost landed in the water. After that she dumped a ragged pair of breeches and a tunic at the edge of the bank and filled her bucket, then strode away.

Gavin emerged from the burn and dried himself as quickly as he could, shivering so much that his teeth were chattering the whole time. He was furious that Maura had dared to stand up to him, showing him no respect at all, but then he reminded himself that she had no idea who he was. He tried to force himself to calm down as he went into the tavern and saw Maura wiping the top of the bar counter. As soon as she saw him, she pointed to a bowl of porridge sitting on a table, as well as a glass of milk.

“There is your breakfast,” she told him irritably. “Hurry up an’ eat it, then ye can come an’ dae some work.”

Gavin sat down to eat the meal and found that it was stone-cold, lumpy and too salty. He wrinkled his nose up and was about to complain, but he looked up into Maura’s eyes, which were hostile and aggressive, staring at him from under lowered brows. They seemed to be saying, go on, I dare you!

He hastily ate his very unappetising meal and stood up to walk over to Maura, but she pointed at his empty plate and cup, then he realised that he was being instructed to wash them. He was outraged, and had to restrain himself from smashing the cup against the table, but abruptly he remembered his perilous position and restrained himself.

He could ill afford to be tossed out into the cold again. Another night like the last one might cause his death of exposure, and he was determined not to perish before he had taken revenge on those who had wronged him.

Gavin forced down his anger and joined Maura. “What would you like me to do?” he asked evenly, trying to keep his face expressionless. Maura pointed to the bucket of water she had just brought in from the burn, then she handed him a wooden-backed brush from which protruded rows of stiff bristles. He looked at it for a moment, puzzled.

“Dinnae tell me ye have nae idea what a scrubbin’ brush is for?” Maura’s tone was incredulous, and she laughed heartily as she looked at Gavin’s baffled expression. “My god—where did ye come fae?” She bent down and picked up a bar of coarse soap, then rubbed the bristles on it.

Then she got down on all fours and showed him how to scrub the floor, before standing up and handing him the brush again. “Clean the floor!” she instructed. “An’ dinnae take a’ day about it!”

When she turned away, the glare Gavin gave her would have been enough to kill her if that were possible. He opened his mouth to yell at her, then shut it quickly as he remembered not to antagonise her again. He looked at what seemed like acres of coarse wooden floorboards and sighed. It was not in his nature to leave a job half-finished, even if it were one he hated; the sooner he started, the sooner the odious task would be done.

He had no idea how long he spent on the tedious chore, but at last it was finished, and he stood up, expecting some thanks for his hard work. However, Maura was not used to doling out that particular commodity, and she merely moved him onto the next task, which was washing the cups and plates ready for customers to come in.

The first few patrons were young farm labourers who did not look pleased to see him and looked at him as though he were a creature from another planet. They muttered and cast hostile looks at him, even though Gavin had said nothing to antagonise them.

When he went to pick their empty ale cups from the table, he dropped one, and it smashed on the floor with a resounding crash, spattering shards on the customers. Immediately, they leapt to their feet and advanced on him, scowling threateningly.

However, Gavin towered above each of them, and when he drew himself up to his full height, then squared his shoulders and looked down his nose at them, glowering from under thick brows, they all backed off.

However, after he had forgotten to deliver ale to another customer’s table and dropped another—fortunately empty—cup, it dawned on Maura that not only did he have no experience with this kind of work, but he had never worked at all.

Every time she chastised him for making another clumsy mistake she received a sharp, cutting rejoinder, and eventually, she drew him aside to give him a piece of her mind.

He had just been flirting with a woman who had seen him almost start another fight when her husband noticed and marched over to them. Gavin had noticed the woman when she entered with her husband, but he had been accosted by a friend and drawn into a conversation at another table.

She was in her mid-twenties, a curvaceous brunette with deep brown eyes and dark, wavy chestnut hair, and she was just the kind of lady Gavin found extremely attractive. It seemed that she felt the same way about him because as soon as she saw him, she raised her eyebrows and gave him a slight, suggestive smile.

My god, she’s gorgeous, he thought, and his imagination went haywire imagining her in his arms. He smiled back and moved away to a quieter spot at the end of the bar, then pretended to clean it with a wet cloth. She glided over to him.

“I couldnae help but notice ye when I came in,” she told him. “Ye’re a cut above the usual sort Maura usually gets tae work here.”

Gavin laughed softly. “I noticed you too,” he said. “You are quite the loveliest woman I have seen in a long while.”

“Ye’re no’ sae bad yourself,” she observed as she looked him up and down and gave him a suggestive smile. “What’s your name an’ what is your story? Ye talk like a toff.”

Gavin wiggled his eyebrows and grinned. “Tell me your name first. As for my story, that is for me to know and you to find out.”

“My name is Edie,” she answered, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now you.”

“Gavin,” he replied. He opened his mouth to speak again, but at that moment there was a shout from the other side of the room and a man came rushing towards them. He was in his thirties, powerfully built with blond hair and grey eyes that were now dark with fury.

“My husband,” she said, as she moved away from Gavin.

“Get your hands aff my wife, you—” he called Gavin a very lewd name. “She is mine! Get your own woman.”

The man grabbed his wife’s hand and gave Gavin a poisonous look, then turned away and dragged her outside.

Fortunately, Maura had seen the altercation. “Listen, big man,” she said angrily. “Dinnae forget who is the boss here. That is me, no’ you.” She thumbed her chest. “If ye dinnae like it, ye can pack your bags an’ go. I dinnae care if ye want tae spend another freezin’ an’ hungry night outside, so I would have a care if I were you.”

Gavin took a deep breath, and was about to give her a piece of his mind, when the reality of his situation came back to him—again. He could ill afford to lose favour with Maura. She was all that was coming between him and a death from starvation and exposure.

“An’ if ye are goin’ tae try tae use your charm on the ladies,” Maura went on, “make sure ye stick tae the ones that are no’ already taken. I dinnae need any more fights round here. Once a place gets a bad reputation, it is very hard tae get rid o’, an’ is a very quick way o’ goin’ out o’ business.”

Gavin looked at her in astonishment. “Are you saying you hired me for my looks?”

He felt no shame in saying this. He knew that his handsome face and his stature made him attractive to ladies; the evidence was there every time he looked in the mirror in the morning. However, he was not sure whether to be flattered or insulted, since Maura had made him feel as if he were nothing but a decoration, like a piece of jewellery.

“Aye, well, there seems tae be nothin’ else ye can dae,” she answered. “It’s the only thing I can use ye for; tae bring in the ladies.”

He stared at her for a moment, then asked, “How did you become so ruthless?”

“Needs must when the devil drives,” she replied. “An’ what about you?”

“I am the son of a guard,” he lied. “Fighting is in my blood. But my father made me learn to speak English as well as Scots, which is the only reason I ‘speak like a toff’ as you put it. I am very observant, and I have a good memory, and I learn quickly, so you see I am not quite as useless as you think.”

“Aye, an’ ye are very modest,” Maura observed, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Right, then, ye can stay, but remember who is the boss here!” She thumbed herself in the chest to emphasise her point.

Gavin watched her walking away and grinned with admiration. What a woman! he thought.