At that moment, the door to the kitchens opened with a bang, and a tall, burly man with a wild, black beard and black hair strode into the room. “Greer!” he bellowed, thumping through the room, not halting until he came to stand before Lena and Greer.
Lena automatically wrinkled her nose at the man’s stench. He reeked of horse manure. “My nooning meal is nae on our table,” he said, his sharp voice grating across Lena’s ears.
A momentary flash of irritation appeared in Greer’s eyes, but when the man narrowed his upon her, Greer became meek in front of Lena. “I’m sorry, Brother,” she said, indicating Lena. “I was speaking with the laird’s wife and forgot the time.”
The man turned his ferocious gaze on Lena. He raked it over Lena’s body before a hard look settled on his face. “I see the laird has done well for himself,” the man said, bitterness suffusing his tone.
Lena stiffened but raised her chin, feeling emboldened. “If ye’re nae happy under my husband’s care, ye are always free to leave.”
Derision etched Greer’s brother’s features. “I’m about as free as ye are,” he snapped.
“Hamish!” Greer gasped.
The man raised his hand as if to strike his sister, making Lena’s heartbeat speed up, but he darted his gaze to Lena, tugged his hand through his hair, and focusing on his sister once more he said, “Bring food for me and Baldwin now!”
Baldwin!Lena pictured the young apprentice she’d met on the ship. So this crude man was his father? No wonder the boy had spoken as he had.
Greer bobbed her head in understanding and scurried to do her brother’s bidding as he stomped his way out of the kitchens past the grim faces of the kitchen ladies. The minute the door shut, chattering erupted. But none of the women made an effort to talk with Greer.
Lena went to her side as Greer busily put food on a platter. “Greer,” she said in a low voice, “I’d like to help.”
As Greer hefted the platter onto her hip, she slowly turned toward Lena. “How do ye believe ye can aid me?” she demanded.
Lena refused to let the woman’s contemptuous tone put her off. She recalled well when she was being abused feeling as if no one could help or even understand. “I could speak with Alex about yer brother’s abuse of ye.”
“I never said my brother abused me!” Greer snapped.
“Ye did nae have to say it,” Lena said, lowering her voice even further. She was making a great presumption with what she was about to say, but she was sure she was correct. “I recognize the signs because of the abuse I endured from my late husband.”
Greer looked uneasily around the room before shoving her tray to the side and moving closer to Lena. “Please,” she said, a desperate urgency in her voice. “Mind yer own life and stay out of mine. Ye dunnae ken truly what ye are poking at.” Turning sharply away so that her skirts swished against Lena’s legs, Greer departed.
Once she was gone, Marsaili came to her side. “I recognize that look,” she said quietly.
Lena raised her eyebrows. “Aye?”
Marsaili nodded. “’Tis the same one ye gave me a bit ago when ye were determined to aid me somehow.”
Lena nodded absently, even as her mind turned about how to proceed. She wanted to say something to Alex in regard to both women, but the timing was not right yet. Now, she supposed, her husband had his secrets and she had hers.
Eleven
Alex could not decide whether he was wearier or more irritated as he washed up for supper, but when he was finished and Lara stopped him to sing Lena’s praises to him for how very bold Lena had been in the kitchens today with Hamish, Alex concluded that irritation had won. Lara was the sixth woman to tell him of his wife’s behavior today, and though he was pleased she was shedding her fear, it was foolish and dangerous to become too brazen. His task was to protect her, and if she went about challenging all the men who were unhappy with him, she might come across a rash man who would hurt her.
Alex dried off as he thought on Hamish. He’d allowed the man to stay at Duart because he’d not had definitive proof that Hamish had known of Archibald’s plans and Alex was not one to condemn any man on suspicion. He knew well that Hamish had grown angry and resentful at having been demoted from one of his guards to the stables, and he’d been waiting for the man’s anger to cool to see if Hamish would settle in to his new life or if Alex indeed needed to send the man away from Duart. He’d hesitated to banish him because of the man’s sister and Baldwin. They’d both suffered for what many perceived as Hamish’s betrayal, and Alex knew if he banished the man, Hamish would force the lass and lad to join him in banishment.
Alex could offer to find a husband for the lass, but Baldwin would have to depart as his father saw fit, and Alex had seen the closeness between the lass and her nephew. And besides that, Baldwin was a good lad. Greer was like a mother to Baldwin since he’d lost his own, which was why, even though he’d not seen the change he had wished for, he had hesitated to ban Hamish. Alex donned his plaid and made his way to the great hall, determined to outline very clear rules to his blossoming wife. Yet, when he entered the room and saw her standing with Donald, her head thrown back in laughter and her hand actually resting on Donald’s arm, Alex’s steps faltered. Instead of marching over to confront her and give her dictates meant to protect her from all harm, he found himself standing still and staring.
She had on a blue gown he’d not seen before, and it complemented her body in a way that stirred his blood to a boil. He had a sudden desire to stride over to her, snatch her up like a bag of wheat, and toss her over his shoulder to take her to her bedchamber where they could enjoy each other until they were both spent and near sleep. His very temporary good mood vanished in a breath, however, and frustration settled like an unshakable winter cough in his chest. He could enjoy her, and she him, but he could not give her what she wanted, what he was certain she needed. He could not hold her in her sleep and make her feel safe because he himself was a threat to her.
He clenched his teeth on a spurt of anger. He may not be able to protect her in her sleep, but he was damned sure going to do so when they were both awake. With that purpose in mind, he marched over to her. “Lena.” Her name came out as a growl, making him wince.
Donald gaped at him, and the man’s obvious disapproval did nothing to improve Alex’s worsening mood, originally brought on by that clot-heid Fardley’s inability to improve at all today. If the man kept up his training with the same lack of advancement as he had today, they would both be gaunt in less than a sennight. One meal a day was not enough to sustain a man.
“Aye, my laird?” Lena asked, her words perfectly proper but her tone challenging. Damned if her show of strength did not make him want to grin, but he dared not. He wanted her to be bold but not so much so that she endangered herself. It was a hard line to traverse, indeed.
“A word, if ye please, Wife.” He gave Donald a look, intending to convey that the man should leave, but he just crossed his arms over his chest as his mouth pulled into an amused smile.
“The training with Fardley certainly lasted all day,” Donald said in a pleasant, poking tone.
