Devil in a Kilt by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

Chapter 6

“Out of our way, make way for the lady.” Lachlan shouted, forcing a path through the knot of merrymakers blocking the entrance to the castle. Once inside, he tried to propel Linnet forward, but she stopped him by digging her heels into the floor rushes.

“Is something wrong, my lady?”

“That is what I would know.” Linnet raised her voice to be heard above the din in the great hall. “I do not see Robbie in the crowd. I also didn’t see him in the chapel.”

“Nae, you wouldn’t have,” the squire said, raising his voice as well.

“Why not? Surely he should have been-”

Lachlan suddenly grabbed her arms and lifted her out of the way as two wrestling Highlanders lurched past them. “Here is not the best place to stand, my lady. Please allow me to escort you away from the door, then I’ll explain about Robbie.”

Without a further word, the squire ushered her toward the raised dais at the far end of the hall. While crowded upon her arrival the night before, the great vaulted chamber was now fair bursting with revelers. Never had she seen anything to compare with such an elaborate celebration.

Someone had even strewn the floor rushes with fragrant meadowsweet, rose petals, and thyme. It a grand spectacle that made her father’s feasts at Dundonnell seem paltry.

A score of trumpeters, high above in the musicians’ gallery, competed with the gay shouts and laughter that filled the vast room and a trio of minstrels paraded among the celebrants, loudly singing bawdy songs.

Trenchers of bread and numerous silver jugs of ale and wine already stood upon the trestle tables while an endless stream of servants carried in platters of every imaginable delicacy from the kitchens.

But Linnet wouldn’t let the finery or tempting array of festive dishes sway her. So when they reached the high table and Lachlan pulled back an elaborately carved high-backed chair, she remained standing.

“Where is Robbie?”

“In his bed, my lady,” the squire told her. “He’s no’ feeling well.”

“What ails him?” Linnet held his gaze. “Do you know?”

“Aye, it’s his stomach. Cook allowed him to eat too many custard pasties.”

“Then I shall go to him,” Linnet stated, stepping back from the table.

Her intention appeared to make Lachlan nervous, for he shot a glance across the hall toward the entrance they’d just left. “Sir Duncan willnae be pleased if you’re not at your place when he enters the hall.”

“And I could not eat a single morsel of food if I did not first look in on the lad. Do you know if your liege laird has sent anyone to see to him?”

“Cook sent one of the laundresses up to his room earlier, but Sir Duncan won’t know the lad’s abed.” Once again, Lachlan glanced at the far door. “He angers easily, so we try no’ to bother him too about Robbie.”

“Bother him?” Linnet eyed the squire sternly, the self-pity that had overcome her in the chapel now replaced by anger. “I’d say it is the wee lad who’s bothered if his belly is hurting him.”

Lachlan nodded but said nothing.

“I would ask a favor if I may?”

“You have only to state your request.” He bowed low. “I am pleased to serve you.”

“Do you remember where my chamber is?”

“Of course, my lady.”

“Then please fetch my leather satchel. When you return, I should like to be escorted to the kitchens.” At the look of bewilderment on the squire’s face, she explained, “The satchel contains my medicinal herbs. I want to brew a tisane of watermint for Robbie. It will ease his stomach pains.”

Lachlan nodded, but a look of discomfort crossed his features. He made no move to leave.

“Is my request too difficult?”

“Nae.” A tinge of pink stained his cheeks. “It is only that my lord will expect you at the high table.”

“Then make haste on your errand, and I shall have no need to tarry.” Linnet arched a brow at the squire, amazed at her daring. “The sooner Robbie can drink the tisane, the sooner he and I can take our places at your master’s table.”

Lachlan’s jaw dropped, and his eyes grew round, but he bowed again and hurried away.

* * *

A short time later,after he’d returned with her herbal pouch and escorted her to the kitchens, Linnet made her way to Robbie’s tower chamber with a steaming beaker of watermint. Lachlan followed silently behind her, lighting the way with a rush torch.

Preferring to be alone with the boy, Linnet entered the room and closed the door, leaving the squire to wait in the corridor. Robbie slumbered peacefully, so she took a moment to glance around the chamber. She found it sorely lacking in warmth and almost as bleak as her new husband’s solar. Perhaps more so because no tapestries graced the walls.

Only the embroidered bedcurtains gave the stark room a touch of color. A child-sized ladderback chair stood near the hearth, and a small table of dark oak had been placed next to the bed. A clump of wilted flowers lay upon the tabletop, and the ancient-looking mongrel slept curled at the foot of the child’s bed.

As before, the dog opened one eye, looked at her, and went back to sleep. Satisfied the enormous beast posed no threat, she crossed the room and gazed down at the sleeping child.

Her new stepson.

A child apparently as shunned by his father as she had been by hers – albeit for very different reasons. Her heart ached at the small boy’s plight. Unable to help herself, she reached out and stroked his hair.

Immediately, he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, staring up at her with dark blue eyes so like his father’s her breath caught in her throat. Except her husband’s eyes held such a perpetually dark expression she’d initially mistaken their color for black.

Linnet let out her breath on a sigh and gave the lad a tender smile. She couldn’t yet speak, could only stare in wonderment at the perfection of his face. In truth, Robbie MacKenzie looked so much like her husband she broke out in gooseflesh.

How could the man doubt the lad was his own flesh and blood? It was impossible not to see the resemblance.

Robbie was a miniature version of his handsome father. But where the father’s beauty was marred by grimness and distrust, the son had the face of an angel.

Trusting, good, and pure.

An incredible feeling of compassion welled up in Linnet, filling her with warmth and a fierce desire to protect the child from harm.

And from unhappiness.

Of a sudden she was very glad she’d come to Eilean Creag. No matter what Duncan MacKenzie thought of her – whether he found her too homely to bed or not, his child needed her and she would do her best to assure Robbie received the love and happiness he deserved.

As she gazed down at him, close to tears, so overwhelmed by emotion was she, the boy pushed himself up on his elbows. “Are you my new mother? Cook said you were coming.”

“Aye, Robbie, I suppose I am. Your father and I were wed this morn.” Linnet took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Would you like me to be your new mother?”

He regarded her for a moment before answering. “Aye, I would. You have the bonniest hair I’ve e’er seen.”

“Why, thank you, Robbie.” Linnet smiled, heat stinging the backs of her eyes. None save her brothers had ever paid her compliments and even those were few and far between. She didn’t know what else to say, and even if she did, she doubted she could speak past the lump rising in her throat.

Robbie glanced at the table and frowned. “I gathered flowers for you, but got sick before I could give them to you. I’m sorry they’re not pretty anymore.” He picked up the wilted bouquet and placed it in her lap.

“Oh, nae, Robbie lad, these are lovely flowers. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” Linnet’s voice trembled as she held up the bouquet and admired it. She knew her tears were spilling down her cheeks. It was the first bouquet she’d ever received.

“You’re crying.” Robbie peered at her, concern clouding his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Nae, sweeting, far from it.” Reaching out, Linnet smoothed the back of her hand down his cheek. “You have made me ever so happy. You are a most gallant lad, and I thank you for the warm welcome.”

“You willnae go away, will you?” he asked, his brow creased with worry.

Linnet’s heart twisted. “Nae, I shall not ever leave you. I am here to stay,” she promised. She smiled at him, then reached for the mug of watermint she’d placed on the table beside the bed. “I’ve brought something to soothe the ache in your belly.”

Later, as she followed Lachlan down the turnpike stair, Robbie’s hand held tightly in her own, the squire’s most recent warning about her new husband’s temper went round and round in her mind. ‘Sir Duncan willnae like you bringing Robbie to his table,’ he’d cautioned her in a low voice so the boy wouldn’t hear. ‘He’s mighty fearsome when angered,’ he’d added just before they’d begun their descent back to the hall.

“I hope you’ve thought this through, my lady,” the squire said then, stopping so abruptly at the bottom of the steps Linnet almost collided with his back.

“I have, dinnae you worry,” she said with more conviction than she felt.

Her fingers clenched around the bundle of limp flowers she held in her free hand. Aye, she’d given her actions much thought and knew what she was doing.

Unfortunately, she also knew she was about to unleash the wrath of the devil.