Chapter 6

6

The kitchen was hardly the place for a battle, so when his shift was finished, Maura took Gavin’s arm and led him outside, where they stood by the back door next to the empty beer barrels. She had brought an oil lamp with her and by its light she looked up into Gavin’s angry green eyes shadowed by his heavy, rust-coloured eyebrows. Despite herself, those eyes always mesmerised her, especially now when he was staring at her so intensely.

She was still furious with him, but even though she had to admit that he had saved her from something that might have seriously hurt her, her pride would not allow her to admit it.

“I expect you want me to leave now,” he said with an angry huff. “You obviously do not need my help anymore. I only ask that you pay me for the work that I’ve done.”

Maura was startled. “What are ye talkin’ about?” she demanded furiously. “I never said anythin’ about you leavin’!”

He shrugged. “But you are very angry with me for protecting you, even though he was going to knock you onto the floor.”

“I can fight my own battles,” she retorted. “I need nae help fae you. Just because you are a man doesnae give you the right tae push me around!” Her eyes were blazing with rage.

“Really?” he drawled. “Your uncle may be a very unfit and obese man, but he is still a man, and therefore bigger, stronger and much heavier than you, so unless you keep a stiletto or a dagger hidden in your pocket, he will eventually do you some serious damage. People become different kinds of drunk, Maura. Some become merry, some sleepy, some aggressive like your uncle. I’m sure this is not the first time he has tried something like this—is it?”

“I have always been able to escape from him, as you can see.” Maura’s voice was defiant as she glared at him. “An’ I dae know a bit about drunkards.”

“Nevertheless, I am happy to stay here and help you if you let me. I can stop fights and throw out rowdy customers—unless you think you can handle it yourself?” The last words were said with a raised eyebrow, as if daring her to contradict him.

Maura gazed at the large, strapping man in front of her. He had been joking, of course.

She was about to answer when he put a hand on each of her shoulders. “I want to express my gratitude for all the kindness you’ve shown me. Let me make you dinner.”

Maura was mystified. “Dae ye even know how tae cook?”

“Well, I can make my own breakfast,” he answered, “and I have watched Morag making food for the tavern. I have keen eyes, so I think I could help out more in the kitchen, and if you need anything written down I could help too, since I know Morag cannot read.”

“Why dae ye want tae dae that?” Maura asked. “We dinnae need another cook. Morag is fine an’ I am quite happy wi’ her.”

“I want to pull my weight,” he replied, trying to put as much sincerity as he could into his voice. He had to make her see that staying at the tavern was vitally important to him, although as he was not sure why yet.

“Thank ye for the offer, but I dinnae need a new cook.” Maura was firm, but felt guilty as she saw Gavin’s downcast expression. “About chuckin’ out the drunks—aye, ye can help me there because some o’ these eejits are more than I can handle. An’ I suppose I thank ye for savin’ me from my uncle, Gavin.”

“I was happy to do it,” he said warmly. “Goodnight, Maura.” Before he could move away, his stomach gave an almighty growl. Maura realised that they had both missed their evening meal, and suddenly, she was ravenous. She took his arm and led him back into the kitchen, where, after a moment of searching, she found some leftover soup and bannocks. Fortunately, the stove was still warm, so she was able to make a passable meal for both of them.

“We cannae let you go tae bed hungry,” she told him as she placed a bowl of fragrant broth in front of him, then sat down across from him.

They sat quietly eating their food for a while, and Gavin was intensely aware of the silence that had descended on them. The tavern was still warm from the stove, the dying fire, and the leftover heat of human bodies. The warm light of the fireplace cast a golden glow over everything; Gavin had never known the place to be so cosy.

He was smiling slightly, unaware that Maura was watching him. “What are ye thinkin’ about?” she asked gently.

“Nothing much,” he confessed. “Sometimes it’s good to let your thoughts go where they want to.” He paused, then went on, “May I ask you a question?”

“Aye,” she answered. “But I cannae promise tae answer it.” Her tone was wary.

Gavin nodded. “Of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He took a deep breath. “Why do you stay with your uncle? It is quite obvious to everyone who sees you that you cannot stand the man, and he is certainly not fond of you, so why?”

Gavin saw her eyes become distant, as if remembering something. “Because he is the only family I have,” she answered. “I have nae other, an’ although he is no’ a good man any more, he was once. When I was a wee girl he used tae play wi’ me an’ we would laugh an’ have a rare old time, but that a’ stopped when Mammy an’ Da died.” She closed her eyes, and paused to swallow a lump in her throat before she went on.

“My Uncle Brian is my Da’s older brother by only a year,” she said sadly, “an’ they were very close. Uncle Brian bought the tavern two years before Mammy an’ Da got sick, so when they died he took me in. I was ill for a while, but I got better again. He was a fine man up till then, but Da’s death just broke somethin’ in him. He was never again the same man that he used tae be.”

“How did they die?” Gavin asked gently. “If you can talk about it, that is.”

Maura gave him a sad smile. “I am fine,” she answered, “an’ sometimes it is good tae talk. A problem shared is a problem halved, so they say.”

She stood up and went to fetch a pitcher of ale, then poured it into two cups for them. As Gavin looked into the clay vessels, he thought about the days when he used to drink out of crystal glasses and silver tankards, and doubted if those days would ever come again.

“My family used tae live on Forsyth land,” Maura went on, “and get their water fae the wee loch next tae the castle. It had been daein’ so for as long as anybody could remember without any trouble. But at some point people started noticin’ the loch water smelled funny an’ people started tae get sick, especially the old people an’ the bairns. My Mammy an’ Da werenae old, but mammy died anyway, an’ when she went, my Da didnae want tae live anymore. He caught the fever, an’ just gave up, but before he passed he told me tae go tae stay wi’ my uncle. That is why I am here.”

“You have no other family?” he asked.

Maura shook her head, seemingly unable to go on. Gavin felt his heart breaking for her.

“Dae ye think I would be stayin’ wi’ that eejit if I had?” she asked bitterly.

“What do you think of Laird Forsyth?” Gavin asked. He felt as though he was walking on eggshells.

“The old Laird or his son?” she asked.

Gavin was startled. Of course, he himself was the new Laird—he had forgotten for a moment.

“The old one, I think,” he replied, trying to inject a note of doubt into his voice so that he would sound believable. “His son was not Laird back then.”

“I think he was a monster,” Maura growled. “A monster wi’ no heart. He had a’ the healers locked up in the castle so that they couldnae bring back anybody that would make his family sick. I understand about carin’ for your family, but what about everybody else’s family? The man was evil. Do ye know what I did the day he died?”

Gavin shook his head. “Tell me,” he said.

“I poured myself a whisky an’ said thank ye tae the devil that took him.” Her voice was bitter and full of hatred. Then something occurred to her. “Wait—if your father was Captain o’ the Guard, did you not stay at Duncairn?”

“Yes, I did,” Gavin replied. “But I had gone away for the month, and by the time I came back it was all over.” He was beginning to find that lying was not an easy skill to master, since lies begot more lies, and it was difficult to remember them all. He had been fortunate so far, however.

How could he tell her the truth? He had been in the castle the whole time because his father and mother had forbidden him to leave. He had tried to be angry with them, but in truth he had been relieved to be safe from harm. The castle was completely isolated from the village and had its own water supply.

Gavin felt wretched. No wonder, Maura was bitter; not only had she lost her parents, but she had been forced into living with a person she actively disliked—perhaps even hated. Moreover, his own father was the cause.

“I am going to ask you a strange question,” he told her. “If you were a Laird’s heir, and you had plenty of coin and power, what would you do? What are your dreams?”

“That is a funny question,” she remarked, then she became silent, thinking. She smiled dreamily for a moment and sipped her ale, staring into space, then she said, “I want tae take over this tavern. I want tae make enough money tae feed the poor around here an’ open an orphanage because I am an orphan. Though I am grown up now, I still feel the loss o’ my parents. Sometimes I wake up in the night an’ imagine they are in my room, Da sittin’ by the fire an’ Mammy bendin’ over me. So I want tae make sure nae other bairns are sae poor, they have tae go hungry.

I know you will probably think it isnae possible, an’ maybe it isnae, but it is what I want tae dae.” She looked at him and smiled. “We can a’ dream, eh, Gavin?”

“Yes, we can,” he looked down at his hands on the table, feeling desperately ashamed. He had no idea what was going to happen to him when he left, but he knew that he would help her in any way that he could to make her plans work.

For the first time in his life, he thought he would love to become a better man. He wanted to be worthy—of Maura. She was everything he could possibly wish for in a woman; she was beautiful, funny, and best of all, intelligent. He could not imagine tying himself to a woman who could not put her thoughts in order. He wondered why he was even thinking this way, however. He was not in a position to attach himself to anyone, so he pushed the thought out of his mind; he could make no plans yet.

He was barely able to get through one day at a time, and the future was impossible to fathom. He was completely lost.

“What were ye thinkin’ about that?” Maura asked him. “When ye were miles away.”

“I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help them,” he said. “Living in the castle I was isolated from all the happenings in the village of Duncairn, and I never saw what went on here in Carmalcolm either.”

“Be glad ye didnae.” Again, Maura’s tone was cynical as she dropped her gaze to the table. “There were people droppin’ in the streets an’ bairns cryin’ because they were that hungry. I had eaten a’ the food that was in our house, an’ I thought I might die o’ starvation.

Luckily, one o’ my uncle’s people came tae collect me in the middle o’ the night, brought me some food, an’ he helped me bury my Mammy an’ Da. They are still behind the cottage in Duncairn. So you see, although he is a bad man now, he was not always as ye see him now.” She looked up at him again, tears coursing down her cheeks, and this time Gavin could not hold his pity in check.

He moved his arm across the table and cupped hers. His thumb caressed her soft skin smoothly, and she leaned into his touch. Their bodies moved unconsciously closer, and if the table was not between them, Gavin would want to kiss her and take away her pain. She smelled like the fabric of the cushion, warm, earthy, with a hint of something floral. It was a scent unique to her, and he knew he would always remember it and associate it with this moment in time.

Maura pulled her hand away and smiled into his eyes. “We told each other we would be friends,” she reminded him. “You have been a really good one, Gavin, an’ I thank ye from the bottom o’ my heart. Ye are still a bit o’ a mystery tae me, but we will get tae know each other better in time, I suppose.” She looked up at him, hopefully.

“I know we will,” he replied. “I hope to be around to fight many more battles on your behalf. Let me protect you, Maura. Let me help you as you have helped me. You have shared many of your worst experiences and your tenderest feelings with me, and I appreciate your honesty. I promise that nothing you have told me will go any further.” He heard his voice trembling a little as he looked down at her full, soft lips and wondered what would happen if he dared peck them.

“I feel as though a weight has been lifted fae my shoulders,” Maura told him. “A weight I didnae even know was there.” She stood and went around the table, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, my friend,” she said softly, before turning and walking away into the shadows.

Gavin felt utterly bereft for a moment before he reminded himself to gather his wits. However, it was a long time before sleep came to claim him that night. Even hugging Maura’s cushion and inhaling her scent did not help, but when he finally did fall asleep, he dreamed about her; delightful, sensual dreams that made him feel refreshed and happy. What was she doing to him?