Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

L yla hadn’t meant her first words to Daemon to be a complaint, but the storm had broken over their heads more than a candle-mark ago, and the rain was frigid. Despite weather-proofed cloaks, everyone in her party was soaked to the skin, and chilled besides. However, the main hall had a large fire, and her companions had been left there.

She had been escorted through the dark and chilly corridors here, without even a towel or a soft cloth to dry herself off. Or a blanket to wrap up in.

Lyla was cold, and tired from a day of riding, and their efforts to reach shelter before the rain came. She was also hungry, because there’d been no good time to eat when they were riding so hard. She was irritated by the lack of courtesy shown her by Daemon’s man.

To her surprise, Daemon was the one to respond. A second after she spoke, he rose from his desk and grabbed a blanket from the back of a chair near the fire. Her teeth barely had time to chatter before he had the soft cloth around her shoulders and was leading her closer to the fire. “Me apologies fer Ryan’s discourtesy, Lady Lyla. And fer me slowness in seeing tae yer needs. I was surprised tae see ye.”

She could accept that, especially now that the heat from the fire was warming her some, and the blanket was helping her feel more comfortable. “Aye. I was on me way home, and Darren – Laird MacLean – asked me tae deliver a message tae ye. He thought it might be safer with me than a messenger in MacLean colors, especially since yer home wasnae so far out o’ me way.”

That wasn’t precisely true, but he let the words pass him by. “As ye say. Is the message in yer saddle bags?”

“Nay. I have it here.” She opened her belt pouch and pulled out a sealed message tube with the MacLean seal embossed on it.

Daemon opened it and read it quickly. “Yer rumors were right, Cai. Clan Ranald is on the move. Laird Darren MacLean has sent a message asking fer aid.”

Lyla nodded. “He’s concerned because there’s word that Donall’s declaring a blood feud.”

“’Tis bad business, but we’ll aid him in any way he needs.” Daemon went back to his desk, leaving her by the fire as he wrote out a letter in response. Lyla watched him, attempting to stifle her yawns. She was tired, and the warmth made her feel even more exhausted, to the point that she was tempted to fall asleep in his office, though only moments ago she’d been too cold and shivering to do any such thing. And irritated.

But now the blanket and the fire were easing the chill, and her irritation was fading. She wanted something hot to drink, and something to eat, then dry clothing and a place to sleep. Though sleep might be some time in coming, if they needed to set out again. She hoped not, but she wasn’t fool enough to depend on Daemon’s hospitality, even if he had been the one to offer her a blanket.

He finished his letter and rolled it up, then sealed it in the message tube before he handed it to one of the others. “Get this to a messenger, and have him set out as soon as the storm abates. Authorize use o’ one o’ the horses, and tell him tae make haste.”

The first man – not the one who’d escorted her, but the serious looking one who’d been there when she arrived – nodded. “Aye, me laird.”

The other one, Ryan was his name, she remembered it now, smiled at her. “Lovely lady, if there’s aught I can dae tae help ye be comfortable…”

“Then it’s something the servants or I can dae twice as well and with half the words.” Daemon interrupted. “I ken ye’ve duties tae be about, so get tae them, instead o’ chattering.”

“As me laird commands.” He smirked at her again, then left.

Alone with Daemon, Lyla found a new feeling replacing cold and irritation. Nervousness. She’d not spent any time with him since their confrontation at Erin’s wedding. She almost wished she’d been able to leave with Ryan. Then Daemon turned to her. “Ye cannae ride on in this weather. ‘Tis best if ye stay here until the roads are safe tae travel.”

The idea of staying felt wonderful, but Lyla didn’t want to impose. “’Tis nae just me. I’ve two guards and a maid riding with me, and they’ll need housing as well.”

Daemon shrugged her words aside. “Three more is nae a problem. I’ll have yer servants bedded down in some o’ the guest servant quarters that we have, and send someone tae see tae quarters fer ye as well.”

She felt almost faint with relief. “Thank ye.”

He shrugged his shoulders, dismissing her gratitude in the gruff way she remembered he always had. “Dinnae thank me fer having the common decency tae give ye shelter in a storm.” A knock announced the presence of a servant, and he went to speak to the woman while Lyla remained by the fire.

When Daemon came back, he stoked the blaze a little before he addressed her again. “I’ve told them tae have one of the maids see yer folk fed and cared fer and placed in quarters taegether. I’ve also sent the lass tae fetch Alyn. She’ll help take care o’ ye and see that ye’re comfortable.”

Despite her current discomfort, Lyla smiled. She’d always liked Alyn, ever since she’d met her during the betrothal meetings between Rowan and Daemon. Alyn MacMillan was Daemon’s first cousin, and had been his ward ever since their parents had perished, leaving him a laird and her an orphan in need of a home. Despite the dour nature of her guardian, Alyn was sweet-tempered and good natured, with a ready sense of humor behind her quiet mask.

She was also one of the few people Lyla knew who could and would argue with Daemon, even though he was technically her caretaker and guardian. For all that she could be shy when she first met someone, there was a core of steel in her gentle spirit.

Lyla hadn’t seen Alyn in years, since before Rowan’s passing. It would be good to have a chance to catch up with the young woman.

Daemon offered her a cup of wine, which he’d warmed by the fire, and Lyla took it. The heat was wonderful, the wine slightly sweet and perfect after such a long day. The last of her irritation faded, leaving her feeling slightly abashed at the way she’d behaved earlier. “Thank ye fer the wine.” She blushed slightly. “And me apologies fer me earlier display o’ temper and me ill-mannered behavior.”

To her surprise, Daemon laughed. His smile was a small thing, just the slightest upward tilt of that stern mouth, but there was mirth in his eyes as he replied. “Och, ye’re fair entitled, after going through that.” He gestured to the storm outside. “I cannae imagine anyone who had tae ride in such weather wouldnae be a wee bit irritable, especially when Ryan didnae give ye at least some mulled cider and a towel afore he brought ye tae me.”

“I did tell him I had a message o’ great import from Laird MacLean.” She couldn’t help smiling as well.

“Even so, he’s wise enough tae ken there’s little I could dae with any message at this hour, in this weather.” Daemon sighed. “But Ryan’s always been a wee bit unpredictable in that way, I suppose.”

Lyla sipped her drink, watching him. She had to admit, after their last interaction, she was surprised to find him so courteous. She’d expected short words and a servant to take her away as soon as possible, assuming he allowed her to stay at all. She’d almost feared she might be sent out into the storm again.

Daemon shifted, and noticed her watching. “Ye’ve the look o’ something on yer mind.”

Lyla blushed, but there was no point in denying it. “I was surprised. We usually dinnae have such a pleasant conversation between us. I’ve always kent ye tae be... in a more somber mood.” That was the politest way she could say it.

“Ye’ve kent me tae be a proper bear, ye mean.” Daemon gave her another of those small half-smiles of his. “I ken well enough what kind o’ man I am. But when it comes tae it, ye’re still Rowan’s sister, and I realized that she’d be fair put out with me if I couldnae treat her sisters kindly. ‘Tis disrespectful tae her memory tae treat ye poorly.”

She was about to respond when he continued. “Besides, I’ve a fair amount o’ respect fer ye, coming all this way tae pass message tae me, fer the sake o’ Laird MacLean.”

Lyla looked away from his earnest eyes. “’Twas nae such a great favor. Ye’re nae so far from me home, and Darren MacLean is a good friend tae me.”

She saw a sudden frown appear on his face, as if something she’d said startled or upset him. Before she could ask him about it, however, the door opened to reveal Alyn MacMillan, who hurried across the room and promptly enfolded her in a hug, despite her dripping clothing. “Lyla! ‘Tis good tae see ye! I could scarce believe it when Ryan said ye were here! And in this weather too!”

“I had a message tae deliver.” Lyla noted the way Alyn had said Ryan’s name, and resolved to ask the other woman about it when they were alone. “The storm caught us while we were riding.”

“And a proper awful one it is. Ye’d almost fear tae be hearing the Wild Hunt on a night like this.” Alyn eyed the window a moment, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But nae more o’ that. ‘Tis far past time we got some hot food intae ye, given ye a hot bath and dry clothing. I ken yers is like tae be soaked through, even with the saddle bags, so I lend ye some o’ mine.”

Lyla nodded and followed the other young woman gratefully. The wine Daemon had given her had settled in her empty stomach and was making her feel somewhat lethargic, and she let herself relax, secure in the knowledge that she was somewhere safe.