Ian chuckled too as he helped himself to more venison from the platter. “Speaking of Oren, it’s not like him to miss a meal. I wonder where he is today.”
“That is odd,” agreed Tadhg. He explained to Mairead, “Oren is my steward, and I don’t know anyone who enjoys eating more than he does. By all rights, he should be huge but he is almost painfully thin. His family lives in the village, but he nearly always has his dinner here.”
“If not his breakfast and supper as well,” added Hamish. “He knees were certainly under the table this morning.”
Tadhg chuckled. “I was training with Laird Chisholm when my mother passed away, but for some reason my father gave the responsibility of planning meals to him.”
Hamish, too, piled more food on his trencher. “There is no mystery there, Laird, Oren wanted the job, that’s why your father gave it to him.”
“Well, I guess that explains it, sweetling, but now ye are here, I’m sure ye will want to assume the responsibility.”
“Aye, I would.”
“Have ye met Oren yet?” Tadhg asked.
“Not yet. I had hoped to talk a few things through with him this afternoon.”
“Aye, it is a shame he chose this meal to miss. Elspet will see ye are introduced. Ye will want to meet him soon.”
Mairead didn’t want to accept it, but there really was no other explanation. It seemed Oren was deliberately avoiding her. Still, perhaps it was wrong to jump to such a conclusion and she didn’t want to say that until she learned more. “I understand he has been very busy today.” She left it at that. Hamish’s brow furrowed at her comment, but he said nothing.
~ * ~
When the meal was over, Tadhg and his men returned to the training field, and the servants began to clear the hall. Mairead found Elspet again and said, “I am anxious to speak with Oren, perhaps he has forgotten my earlier request?”
Elspet looked astounded. “My lady, ye don’t mean to say he hasn’t met with ye yet?”
“Nay, not yet.”
“My lady, I apologize. I spoke with him this morning and told him to send for ye as soon as he was available. I assumed he would only be delayed a few minutes. I will go get him immediately.”
“Thank ye, Elspet, I’d appreciate that.”
Mairead decided to wait in the great hall until Elspet returned and thought she would help clean up after the meal. She turned to remove the cloth from a nearby trestle table. Her mother taught her to fold the edges of a tablecloth in first, trapping the crumbs and spilled food in the cloth. Then the cloths could be shaken outside before they were laundered. This reduced the amount of food debris that collected in the rushes, helping to control vermin.
As Mairead started folding the edges in, a servant rushed over and said, “My lady, there’s no need to fold it, it will only need to be washed anyway.” The woman snatched the cloth from the table, crumbs flying everywhere.
“I was—” Mairead began to tell the servant her reason for folding the cloth first but the young woman simply walked away from her.
The servant’s rude behavior shocked Mairead yet again. She glanced around to see if anyone who had seen the interaction seemed surprised by it, but no one else seemed to have paid any attention.
She was still mulling the incident over when Elspet returned, clearly agitated. “My lady, I am so sorry, I’m not sure how Oren could have misunderstood. He should have spoken to ye before he left, but I am afraid he has gone for the day. Ide said he wasn’t feeling well and went home to rest. Apparently they planned tomorrow’s meals just after the midday meal was served.”
Mairead didn’t know what to say. Certainly if he were ill, she wanted him to do what was necessary to get better. However, Elspet was correct. Oren should have spoken to her or sent a message directly to her as he left. Mairead should not have found out the steward had left for the day only after sending a servant to fetch him for the second time. She was angry and confused. She reminded herself this was not Elspet’s fault. “I am sorry Oren is not feeling well. I trust he will be better tomorrow. If he is, when he arrives, please ask him to wait in the great hall until he has spoken to me.”
“Aye, my lady, I understand. Again, I am very sorry.”
Elspet looked embarrassed and Mairead wanted to ease her mind. “Thank ye, Elspet, but I’m sure Oren just misunderstood. I truly appreciate the help ye have given me today, and I will speak with him tomorrow. Please excuse me now. As there seems to be nothing I can help with down here, I will be in my solar. Would ye please send someone up to light a fire in the hearth?”
“Aye, my lady, certainly.”
Mairead walked to the south tower with her head up and her back straight. When she reached her solar, she still seethed with anger at Oren. She decided to do some needlework, but was too frustrated to focus on it. After picking out the third mistake, she put it away. Irritated, she paced, trying to figure out what her mother would do. In fact, she didn’t know what her mother would do because no servant at Carraigile would have behaved as some at Cnocreidh had today.
Her eyes roamed to the parchment on the desk, and she badly wanted to write her mother a letter.
And say what? Will I run tattling after my mama who has only just left and tell her my new clan isn’t being nice to me? But how dare the steward ignore me?
Suddenly she found the irony of the situation extremely amusing. She had spent most of her life choosing to be in the background, hoping to be ignored, and now she was getting her wish.
Maybe she was being too hard on them. There had not been a “Lady Matheson” in residence for over ten years. Perhaps everyone needed some time to adjust. She sighed loudly, her anger finally dissipating, and she resolved to try again tomorrow. She picked up her needlework again, finally able to focus on it.
As evening fell and her solar grew cold, her irritation returned. Apparently, whoever Elspet asked to tend the hearth had either misunderstood or ignored the request. She put her needlework away and descended to the great hall. She intended to ask again for someone to tend her hearth. However, Tadhg and his men had just returned from training, and the servants were busy preparing for the evening meal, so she did not interrupt.
Eight
Things did not improve. Oren did not come to the keep the next day. He sent his wife to Elspet with a message saying he was still ill. He also sent instructions directing Elspet and Ide in their work for the day. Mairead was angry and frustrated by this. Still, she did not want to create unnecessary strife by interfering with the running of Cnocreidh until she had at least spoken with the steward. She remained silent and let his orders stand for the day. There had been so many visitors for the wedding, the staff was still cleaning and putting the keep to rights. In fairness, those would have been Mairead’s orders anyway. She tried to help throughout the morning, but once again was ignored or blatantly pushed aside. She wanted to review the account books and check inventories, but believed it would be presumptuous to simply take the books without first speaking with Oren. With nothing else to do, feeling at a loss and in the way, she retreated once more to her solar. Before leaving the great hall, she again asked Elspet to have someone tend the hearth for her.
Mairead spent most of the day alone, working on a tapestry again. She thought through all of the events of the last couple of days, trying to figure out what she had done wrong. She had tried to be polite and friendly, adopting the manner she used with the staff at Carraigile but the staff here rebuffed her at every turn. Perhaps she had misunderstood Tadhg. Maybe he did not want her to run his household, although she found this hard to believe. Still, it might be a good idea to make certain.
As the afternoon light faded, she began to squint at her needlework. Her solar grew dark and cold. She sighed in frustration. Her request for someone to tend to her hearth was being ignored yet again. She lit candles but rather than continuing to work on her tapestry, she went to the cabinet and removed her recorder. This was the first instrument she had learned to play as a child. Although the harp was a much more difficult instrument to master and therefore more impressive to most people, this recorder was her favorite because her grandfather had made it for her. She put it to her lips and began to play, losing herself in the music. She had only been playing for a few minutes when the door to the solar opened and she looked up to see Tadhg. “I’d say don’t stop, but it’s freezing in here. Ye should have asked for someone to lay the fire for ye.” He walked across the room to give her a kiss.
“I did, actually.”
He frowned. “And it wasn’t done? They should have at least done so when they stoked the fire in our bedchamber.”
“That was probably it. Perhaps they misunderstood me and tended the other hearth instead. I will sort it out,” she said casually. As difficult as this day had been and as easy as it would be to complain to him about it, she didn’t. Without a doubt, he would have fixed everything, but she needed to handle it or risk never gaining the staff’s respect.
“Our room is toasty warm. Let’s go in there, but bring the instrument, I want to hear ye play some more.”
She gave him a saucy grin. “Ye are asking me to join ye in our toasty warm bedchamber and ye want me to play my recorder?”
“Well, now that ye mention it, maybe there is something else we can play as well.” He scooped her into his arms, carrying her giggling out of the solar to their bedchamber.
He tossed her on top of the bed and stripped off his clothes. She grinned and undid the brooch holding her plaid on. She laid it on the bedside table with the recorder, which she still held. She had barely removed her belt and was untying the ribbons of her
léine
when he jumped on the bed beside her, completely naked. He pushed her garments up and nuzzled her flat stomach causing her to giggle even more.
“Tadhg, please, I can’t breathe.”
“Well, then, we need to get this off and give ye some air,” he teased. He pulled her
léine
off, tossed it over his shoulders, and captured her lips. If the tickling weren’t enough to take her breath away, his kisses certainly were.
“This must go too,” he growled, tugging on her kertch, releasing her hair. He buried his face in her thick curls, inhaling deeply. “Mmm, I love the way ye smell.”
His hands roamed freely over her body. “And the way ye feel, soft and smooth.” He cupped the creamy white mounds of her breasts, squeezing the nipples lightly.
Enjoying the delicious feel of his hands she writhed like a cat in the sun and practically purred, “Tadhg.” Returning the favor, she ran her hands over his chest and down his arms. She loved the feel of him too. His muscles were hard and sculpted, and his skin warm. She trailed her hands down, tickling the crisp curly hair at the base of his manhood. She smiled coyly when he moaned and grabbed her hands.
“Ah, lass, I can’t bear it.”
He slipped a finger between her moist folds, stroking her sensitive nub, and it was her turn to moan. She pushed against his hand, wanting more. He brought her to the edge then stilled his hand, smothering her protest with kisses. Then he brought her to edge again and just before she reached her release, he stopped again. She groaned and raised her hips toward him.
“No, Mairead, not yet.” He started the sensual torture one more time only to remove his hand just a moment before she soared.
“Tadhg, please, I need—I need—oh, Tadhg…”
“Is there something ye want, dearling?”
“I want ye, Tadhg, please.” Her plea sounded desperate to her own ears, but she didn’t care.
“Since ye have asked so sweetly, I’ll see what I can do.” He knelt between her legs and moved his hands under her, lifting her and sliding her onto him in one firm stroke. As he filled her, she was overcome with the shuddering waves of her climax and they seemed to go on forever. He continued thrusting into her, sustaining her pleasure. Before the aftershocks of her release ended, the sweet tension began building yet again. Putting his hand between them, he stroked her until she crested once more. As the muscles at her core contracted repeatedly around him, she felt the hot surge of his seed when he found his release as well. She marveled at the blissful sensations coursing through her body—even her fingers and toes tingled.
He held his weight off her as he caught his breath. Then he gently withdrew from her and lay beside her on the bed, still panting. “My precious lass, ye are perfect, more delightful than any man could dare to hope for.”
Still in the haze of their lovemaking, she answered, “I’m rather impressed with ye as well.”
At that moment, the door to the room swung open and the chambermaid, Meriel, strode in with a stack of linen towels followed by a manservant carrying a tub.
~ * ~
Tadhg flew off the bed and roared,
“Get out! How dare ye enter unbidden?”
Mairead grabbed at the plaid, which lay under them, scrambling unsuccessfully to cover herself.
The stunned manservant stared at them momentarily before rushing out of the room.
Meriel didn’t appear to be as shocked. “Laird, I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t know ye were in here. I was told that ye wanted to have a bath after—”
“There is no excuse. Ye would have known if ye had but knocked.
Remove yourself now!
” he roared again.
“Aye, Laird.” She calmly placed the towels on the table before leaving.
Tadhg turned to Mairead, expecting to see her embarrassed, blushing. She was, however, not blushing; she was ashen. Her knees were drawn to her chest, and she clutched the edge of her plaid in front of her.
“Mairead, I am sorry. I asked for a bath to be prepared for after supper. They never should have entered unannounced, whether they thought the room was empty or not.” He tried to comfort her, putting his arms around her. She leaned her forehead against him, but didn’t return his embrace, continuing to clutch her plaid.
God’s teeth, could anything worse have happened?