The Highlander's Enchantment Read online

  Her face grew hot, and then hotter still when Edan appeared beside her, reached up to grasp her about the waist and took her down from the horse. His hands were warm, and as whenever she was near him, her insides tingled and pulsed.

  Surely if she’d made love to her husband, she would remember it?

  Edan took her hand in his and led her through the throngs of people toward the steps of the keep. When they reached the top, he turned them about to face the crowd.

  “My wife, Lady Blair Rose.”

  Blair smiled out at the crowd, still a little bit in shock she was a married lass and now mistress to an entirely new clan. For the most part, she got on well with everyone she met, as she tried more often than not to be amiable. Her new clan would be no exception. However, she did notice a few of the clanswomen in the crowd did not offer her a smile in return. One woman looked downright sour.

  She brushed aside the sting of their greeting, for there were plenty of others who seemed pleased to meet her.

  “Come, my sweet, I’ll show ye to your chamber.” Edan squeezed her hand as he murmured the words.

  “Mine? Do ye not mean ours?”

  He looked at her, perplexed. “My brother and his wife had adjoining chambers, as did my parents before them. The lady had hers, and the laird his.”

  “My parents share a chamber, as do my brothers and sisters with their spouses.”

  Edan narrowed his brow. “The king does not share a chamber with his wife.”

  “And while ye’re a powerful man, ye’re not the king.” She couldn’t help but retort, and then bit her tongue just after the words were out of her mouth and she awaited his reaction.

  Edan surprised her with a grin and a slow wink. “Ye wish to share my chamber?”

  Oh saints, she wished she could remember last night!

  “Aye.” Though she wanted to glance toward her feet, she kept herself from doing so. She meant to live every day as a wife who did not cower in front of her husband. A wife who was not embarrassed, even if she was. A wife who could always look her husband in the eye, even if she couldn’t remember a single thing about her wifely duties. “But if ye prefer…”

  He gave a subtle shake of his head. “I would verra much like to be closer to ye.” His voice scraped along her spine, sending shivers of anticipation racing over her. Nay, they certainly had not made love yet; she would know.

  “My laird.” The sour-faced lady hurried up the keep steps, sweat trickling down her temples, her fists bunched around the fabric of her skirts. “Shall I fetch her ladyship a bath?”

  Edan glanced down at the woman quizzically, and so Blair nodded in answer. “Aye, that would be lovely.”

  After having grown up in a regiment of men, it would seem he was not yet aware of the things a lady wife might desire. A bath was a luxury, one she didn’t indulge in often, as it required quite a lot of work from the servants. They would need time to heat the water, carry up the tub, and then to empty the tub, bucket by bucket. But in this case, after having traveled for the whole of the day and feeling very nervous about any marital duties she would most assuredly be required to perform today, she could use a warm bath to relax herself.

  She smiled kindly at the sour-faced woman, who still did not return the gesture. Blair accepted the challenge, determined to win the woman over.

  “Aye, my lady. Give us a bit to put it together.” She sounded tired, weary even.

  “And your name is?” Blair asked, trying to keep her voice cheerful.

  “Mrs. McQuinn, but ye can call me Agnes. I’m housekeeper at Kilravock.”

  There was something in the way that Agnes was staring at her, as if waiting for something, but Blair couldn’t be sure what it was. Strange, truly. She studied Agnes a little harder, but as soon as she started to scan her face, the sour woman snapped her fingers at a few lassies behind her, who leapt as though instructed by a military leader.

  As they filed past Blair and Edan, they curtsied to their laird and offered him kind smiles, but they eyed Blair warily with tentative smiles and then scurried after Mrs. McQuinn. Though she thought it odd, as none of the women at Dunrobin, or even Castle Ross, had acted thusly toward her, Blair brushed it off. They had just lost a mistress they’d only just gotten used to, and now had another to become familiar with.

  So he brought a little Sutherland whore back with him? She had to pinch herself to be certain she wasn’t sleeping, for this was too good to be true. How could she have every possibly dreamed all of this up? Her plans would need a bit of tweaking, but that was nothing hard. Oh, zounds, but it was hard not to laugh with glee or clap outright with joy at the hand she’d just been dealt.

  She shook her head, watching the Sutherland chit, and gleefully planning all the ways in which she was going to make that bitch suffer.

  Edan took Blair’s hand in his and led her inside and up the spiral stairs to the third level, where he opened a door to the chamber on the left. They entered into a small solar. On the right was a door that opened to reveal a bedchamber, and on the left was the same.

  “This one is mine,” he said, leading her toward the chamber on the right. “Ours,” he corrected with a flash of a smile.

  She smiled at his correction and followed him into the chamber that was quite plainly appointed and very masculine. A large four-poster bed dominated the far wall. The posts were carved in swirling knots that resembled those often found on Pictish stones, and at the center of each post was a harp in various forms. One was on the back of a mermaid, another being played by a warrior, the third showed the strings as arrows, and the fourth was being strummed by a lady. The details were intricate and beautiful, and she couldn’t help but reach out to stroke her fingers over the designs.

  “’Twas commissioned by my grandfather,” Edan said. “There is a matching one, albeit slightly smaller in the other chamber.”

  “It is verra lovely.”

  “Aye. And so are ye.” His eyes were on her, and even though he didn’t take a step closer, she felt his heat all the same, a warmth that scaled up her neck and over cheeks. He mesmerized and enchanted her with his words.

  His gaze settled on her lips with the same intensity as it had when he’d kissed her the day before in her chamber at Ross Castle. That part she remembered.

  She flicked her own gaze toward the bed, wanting to ask him what had happened that night. Did they…? She licked her lips and glanced back at him, feeling her palms grow slick.

  Edan did move closer then, silently shifting forward until she really did feel his heat on her skin. He touched two fingers to her chin and tilted her face toward his. He leaned down and brushed his soft mouth over hers. Blair’s body immediately reacted with frissons of excitement dancing over her limbs.

  She leaned in, wanting to feel his hard body against hers. To taste what she’d missed the day before. She wanted to ask him to make love to her again, or for the first time, whichever it was.

  “Will ye—” she started to ask but was cut off by a sharp knock on the door of their solar.

  “Your bath has arrived,” Edan murmured, pulling away with a sigh to go and let in the servants.

  A long line of them filed into the solar carrying a large wooden tub, linens, sweet smelling soaps and buckets of water. They didn’t enter the laird’s chamber, however, and went straight into the lady’s dwelling.

  Blair didn’t correct them. She pressed her hand to Edan’s arm when it looked like he might. “’Tis all right for now,” she said, feeling marginally relieved that she might have some privacy while bathing. “They dinna need to know where I sleep at night.”

  Edan grinned, winking down at her in such a sensual way that she shivered.

  “I’ll leave ye to your bath, my lady. I need to have a word with my men to gather reports of what has gone on since I left.”

  He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and then disappeared through the same door as the servants.

  When she entered the lady’s chamber, the
tub had been filled halfway with water and set up with linen inside. No maid had been left to assist her, which was just as well, for she would have said she could bathe on her own.

  A linen towel for drying was draped over the side, and herbs were floating on the top of the water. There did not appear to be a cake of soap. She opened the wardrobe and the chest at the base of the bed but found none. But a quick peek in Edan’s chamber found a ball of dull-smelling soap beside his wash basin. It would have to do for now.

  Blair stripped quickly out of her clothes, grateful for the tub, and determined to rest in the warm water just long enough to ease her nerves, but not overlong that the servants might think her lazy. First impressions were important, and she desired that they would know her as a good role model rather than a pampered lady.

  Standing naked before the tub, Blair lifted her foot to step into the water, submerging just a few toes before she shrieked and leapt back. The water was ice cold. Nay, it couldn’t be. Who would have offered their lady a cold bath? Perhaps it had only been so hot she thought it was cold…if that were even a possibility? Blair dipped her finger into the herb-strewn water and frowned. It was indeed so cold it must have been pulled straight from the well and brought up to her chamber without having gone near a fire.

  Tears sprang to her eyes at the cruelty of it. Was it possible there had been some confusion? But Blair knew there could not have be. Whoever had strewn in the herbs would have swirled them about the water, and before instructing her it was ready, the temperature would have been checked. There was only one person who had told her it was ready: Agnes McQuinn.

  Blair immediately thought of her sour, pinched face. She’d done it on purpose. Offered her lady something nice, only to take it away. This was a direct insult, to let her lady know just how Agnes felt about her—which was wholly unfair, given Blair had only just arrived and had not been here long enough for anyone to form a grudge against her. Blair stood up straight, stiffening. What had she ever done to deserve such treatment?

  She turned around to find the hearth empty of a fire, though there was a stack of logs in the grate. Using a lit candle on the mantle, she held the flaming wick to the logs until they caught in several places. At least she could warm up after her cold bath—which would not be one of leisure. For she had decided she would wash, though she would not be submerging herself in the water. The last thing she wanted to do was let the offensive housekeeper know she’d upset her. And she certainly didn’t want to bother Edan to take up her cause with the petty servants. Soon enough, she’d win them over. She had to.

  Blair returned to the tub, stepping into it so as not to make a mess on the floor. Given how vindictive Agnes was, she wouldn’t be surprised if the woman sent up sweet servants to clean up any mess Blair made, if only to get them to hate her. Saints, but the water was frigid. Gooseflesh rose along her limbs, and she was certain it wouldn’t be long before her teeth chattered.

  She dipped her hands in the cold water and splashed it on her face. She used a small square of linen to wash with the bland soap, certain now they’d purposefully not provided her with any. Good thing she’d washed her hair the day before on her wedding day, or she’d have to dunk her head in the freezing water, too.

  After she finished scrubbing, Blair stood before the fire until her skin turned pink with warmth. She then dressed, replaited her hair and headed down the stairs to find the kitchens.

  It was nearly evening, and Agnes would at this point have already conferred with the cook about what to serve for supper, but she could at least introduce herself and let them know that she would be speaking with them first thing in the morning to discuss meals.

  Blair passed through the great hall, smiling at those who stared at her openly, and gaining a few smiles back. But several sniffed at her and had the audacity to raise their noses before turning their backs.

  She tried not to bristle at their rude behavior, but she was finding it rather difficult. The smell of cooking grew stronger, and she followed it through the back, halting on the threshold of the kitchen when she spotted Agnes in a deep huddle with the cook. The hearth gave off scents of roasting meat and baking bread, and on the long trestle table down the center of the kitchen, onions, root vegetables, garlic and herbs were all in the process of being chopped. They’d yet to notice her standing there, and Blair caught snatches of their conversation, which cut like a dagger.

  “There’s one thing for certain,” Agnes was saying, “she’s no Lady Rose.”

  Blair’s eye widened, feeling the sting of the insult deep in her chest. Heat once more filled her cheeks. But with her back straightened and her voice steady, she said in a manner she’d often heard her mother speak to a wayward servant, “Ye see, Agnes, that is where ye’re wrong. For I am Lady Rose, and so I shall remain.”

  The two women jolted at the sound of her voice and turned to face her.

  Cook looked quite a bit more apologetic than Agnes, who only stared at Blair with a blank expression. “I trust ye enjoyed your bath, my lady?”

  Of all the nerve… “’Twas…invigorating.” Blair brushed away what she knew was meant to be another dig and stepped into the kitchens. She ignored Agnes, which she knew would only make the woman angrier, but at the moment she did not care. Blair faced the rest of those in the kitchen. Scullions, spit-boys, undercooks and dishwashers all faced her, their gazes shifting toward Agnes as though they worried about whatever their facial expressions might give away. “I am Lady Blair,” she said, head held high. “New mistress of Clan Rose. I wanted to introduce myself to ye all. My mother, the Countess of Sutherland, is on good terms with her kitchen staff, as I wish to be with all of ye. We’ll meet each morning to discuss the days meals.”

  Once more, their gazes shifted, but this time to Cook.

  “I know change is hard, and ye’ve all been through so much already. I’m so verra sorry for your losses. I dinna intend to take anything away from your memories, but I do hope that we will all create new ones and make Laird Rose’s mealtimes those of enjoyment and leisure.” This was how it was at her home. Mealtimes were the moments in which they all relaxed and enjoyed each other’s company. She very much wanted to create the same atmosphere here.

  “At Kilravock, the housekeeper is in charge of setting menus with the cook,” Agnes interjected. “That is my duty.”

  Blair finally glanced toward Agnes, who not only still looked sour, but there was a challenging rise of her eyebrows as well.

  “I understand,” Blair said, pausing as she eyed each one in the kitchen, wondering just how long it might actually take to win them over. It seemed Agnes ruled with an iron fist.

  “Good, we’ve an understanding,” Agnes said.

  “Oh, nay.” Blair’s tone was soft, but firm, and she held her hands tightly before her to keep them from trembling. “Ye misunderstand me. I said I understand, but I’m afraid we will have to allow for changes. I would be more than happy to confer with ye, Agnes, and then ye confer with Cook, but I verra much intend to be a part of the process.”

  Blair had not raised her voice, nor used a cruel tone, and yet the gaped mouths of those present might have suggested otherwise. It was so quiet one could hear a pin drop.

  Agnes was turning nearly purple in her rage.

  “I’ll take your silence for agreement. Thank ye all so much for the warm welcome,” Blair emphasized the word warm to point out she had not enjoyed the cold bath. “I look forward to the meal ye’re preparing for our supper.”

  Several of the understaff nodded and murmured, but they were cut off with a sharp look from Agnes. Blair didn’t stay to hear what rebukes the housekeeper might offer, as she very much felt like she could vomit.

  She hurried, more like fled, from the kitchens through the great hall to the outside. A moment with Bluebell to bury her nose in the sweet animal’s fleece would set her to rights. She easily found the stables, but her sweet sheep was not present. Blair walked up and down, peering in every stall, bu
t there was no sight of her lamb.

  The stable master, an older gentleman with a tanned and weathered face, approached. “My lady?”

  “I am looking for Bluebell, my sheep. The laird told me she’d be housed here.”

  The man gave her an odd look. “Nay, my lady. I’ve not seen her.”

  She thought Edan had said Bluebell would live in the stables, but perhaps she’d had heard wrong.

  Blair wondered out of the stables and poked her head in various huts and other structures until she found her lamb in a barn filled with livestock being fattened up for slaughter. A keening cry left her lips as she rushed forward to grab hold of the braided rope collar she’d fashioned herself, startling the lads who were tending the animals.

  “Bluebell does not belong here,” she cried. “She is my pet.”

  The man in charge of the livestock and the lads looked at her as though she were addled, but she ignored them and led Bluebell out of the barn and into the bailey.

  She marched her lamb over to the stable, shoved open the door and stepped inside. “I’ll need a stall,” she said to the stable master, who passed her the same look as he had before. “Bluebell will reside here and be treated as well as the laird’s horse.”

  The stable master blustered in horror, but Blair would not be cowed.

  “My lady, I’m afraid it would be quite impossible—”

  Blair was close to tears. With one hand fisted at her side, she straightened as much as she could. Since coming here, she’d met with nothing but unfriendliness and antagonism, and she was only a few minutes away from breaking down. “My husband, your laird, has already agreed to accommodate Bluebell. Ye’re going against his orders.”

  The stable master frowned. “I have yet to hear the order myself, my lady.”

  So it would seem he was going to argue this with her, too. Blair bristled. She’d had quite enough. “Then go and find him.”

  The stable master looked ready to spit, but Blair’s nerves were already overflowing from her cold bath and the confrontation with Agnes in the kitchen. The mistreatment of her precious pet was the last straw.