along shortly. He’s taking care of a horse for me.”
Cormac rose, his brow creased in confusion. “A horse?”
Mairin fairly skipped up the stairs. The day hadn’t been a complete waste. In fact, it had been quite lovely. And she was making strides in her bid to take an active part in the keep’s activities. Why, she’d made a decision and hadn’t even bothered Ewan over such a trivial matter. It was the least she could do. He had many important duties and the more she could smooth things for him, the more he’d be able to concentrate on those duties.
She splashed water on her face and brushed the dust from her dress. Aye, it had been a good day, and her wound wasn’t even paining her.
“Mairin!”
She flinched as the laird’s roar carried all the way up the stairs and through her chamber door. He bellowed loud enough to shake the rafters.
With a shake of her head, she picked up her brush and made quick work of the tangles in her hair. If maneuvering her left arm didn’t prick at her side, she’d take the time to braid her hair. Maybe by morning.
“Mairin, present yourself at once!”
She dropped her brush and scowled. Lord, but the man was impatient. After one more pat of her dress she headed down the stairs. When she rounded the corner into the hall, she saw Ewan standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest, a deep scowl etched around his mouth.
To the side stood Arthur and Magnus along with Gannon and Caelen. A few of Ewan’s men tarried around the tables, having taken a keen interest in the fuss.
She came to a stop in front of Ewan and smiled demurely up at him. “You summoned me, Laird?”
Ewan’s scowl deepened. Then he ran a hand through his hair and looked heavenward. “In the course of the last hour, you’ve stolen a man’s horse and somehow managed to leave me without a stable master. Would you care to explain yourself, lass?”
“I settled a dispute,” she said. “And when I discovered that this odious man who clearly abuses his horses was responsible for
“You had no authority to do either,” Ewan said tightly. “Your duties are quite simple. Obey me and don’t interfere with the running of this keep.”
Hurt squeezed her chest. Humiliation tightened her cheeks as she looked from man to man. She saw sympathy in Gannon’s expression, but in Caelen’s she saw agreement.
Not trusting that she wouldn’t further humiliate herself, she turned away and walked rigidly back out of the hall.
“Mairin!” Ewan roared.
She ignored him and increased her pace. She bypassed the stairs and slipped out of one of the doorways leading to the outside.
Tears burned her eyes, and she angrily dashed them away. Dusk had fallen over the keep, blanketing it in hues of lavender and gray. The chill nipped at her but she paid no heed, as she hurried across the empty courtyard.
One of the guards on the wall called a warning to her but she waved him off and told him she had no intention of going far. She just needed to be away. Away from Ewan’s roaring and the censure in his eyes.
She kept in line with the wall of the keep, making sure to remain inside the stone skirt. There had to be a place somewhere that afforded privacy while still offering safety.
Her solution came in the form of the old bathhouses in the rear of the keep. There was even a bench in the shell of the stone walls. She ducked under a sagging doorway and settled herself on the bench that lined the only wall still standing in its entirety.
Finally, a place away from the rest of the clan where she could have a private weep and lament her husband’s disgraceful behavior.
CHAPTER 22
It was important that Ewan not go chasing after his wife, especially in front of his men. It was obvious the lass had no idea what she’d gottenself into. He’d give her time to cool down and then he would instruct her on the way of things.
He turned back to the men who stood behind him. Gertie was already putting the evening meal on the table, and judging by the smell, it had been a good hunting day for the men assigned to bring fresh meat into the keep.
“Do I have my position back, Laird?” Arthur asked.
Ewan nodded wearily. “Aye, Arthur. You’ve a fine hand with the horses. However, I’ve had enough of your incessant bickering with Magnus, and ’tis obvious that it upsets your mistress.”
Arthur didn’t look happy but he nodded and hurried away to take his seat. Magnus looked as though he wanted to make a jibe at Arthur but Ewan’s fierce scowl stopped him. He, too, took his seat—at a table over from where Arthur had sat.
Ewan took his seat and was followed by his men. When Maddie made her way by to fill his trencher, he stopped her.
“When you are finished serving the men, take a tray up to your mistress. She’s in her chamber, and I don’t want her to miss the evening meal.”
“Aye, Laird, I’ll see to it immediately.”
Satisified that his wife wouldn’t go hungry and that, for the moment, all arguing was done, he dove into his portion, savoring the taste of the fresh venison.
