Saving Grace

Saving Grace Page 22

He didn’t give her much time to recover. He kissed her once again and told her to get dressed. The day, he declared, was wasting away.

She tried not to be hurt by his attitude. She wanted to linger but knew his duties still waited for him.

They washed in the stream, dressed, and walked side by side to their mounts.

“You will not go out alone again, Johanna. I forbid it.”

She didn’t agree or disagree with that instruction. He gave her a hard look before lifting her onto her horse. Johanna adjusted the strap of her carrier on her shoulders, slipped the bow over her arm, and then took the reins from his hands.

“When we return to the holding, you will rest.”

“Why?”

“Because I have told you to,” he countered.

She wasn’t in the mood to argue with him. She wasn’t about to let him leave in such a brittle mood either. “Gabriel?”

“Yes?”

“Did you enjoy our time together?”

“Why do you ask me such a question? It should be obvious to you I enjoyed touching you.”

After giving her that backhanded bit of praise, he walked over to his mount and gained the saddle.

“It isn’t obvious,” she blurted out.

“It should be,” he countered.

She wanted compliments, he supposed. His mind immediately went blank. He wasn’t any good at small talk or wooing. Still, the forlorn look on her face told him she was in need of more praise. He didn’t want their interlude to end with her looking dejected.

“You made me forget my duties.”

There, that statement of fact would surely convince her how tempting she was to him.

It sounded like an accusation to her. “I apologize, Gabriel. It won’t happen again.”

“I was giving you a compliment, you daft woman.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You were?”

Apparently she didn’t believe him. “Of course it was a compliment. A laird doesn’t often forget his duties. Such ill discipline would cause havoc, and so, you see, I was indeed giving you a compliment.”

“Most compliments aren’t given in a roar, m’lord. That may have been the reason I didn’t understand.”

He grunted. She didn’t know what that rude sound was supposed to mean. The discussion was over, however. Gabriel slapped her horse’s left flank to get her moving.

He didn’t speak to her again until they reached the stables. Then he reminded her he wanted her to rest.

“Why must I rest? I’m not decrepit, m’lord.”

“I don’t wish you to become ill.”

The set of his jaw told her it was pointless to argue with him. She was too irritated to let the topic go, however. “You’re being unreasonable. I don’t wish to stay in bed all day. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.”

Gabriel lifted her to the ground, then took hold of her hand and dragged her back toward the keep. “I would allow you to sit by the fire in the hall. You may even sew if you’re so inclined.”

The picture he painted in his mind appealed to him. He smiled just thinking about Johanna doing such feminine things.

She was glaring up at him. He was so surprised by her reaction to his suggestion, he laughed.

“You have very specific ideas about how I should spend my days, m’lord. I wonder where you came up with them. Did your mother often sit by the fire and sew?”

“No.”

“Then how did she fill her days?”

“With backbreaking work. She died when I was very young.”

The look on his face and his tone of voice told her he didn’t want her to pursue the topic. He was obviously sensitive about his childhood. The simple comment had told her quite a bit about how his mind worked, however. Backbreaking work had killed his mother . . . and wasn’t that the reason Gabriel wanted her to rest her days away?

She knew she shouldn’t question him further, but curiosity overrode caution. “Did you love your mother?”

He didn’t answer her. She tried a different question. “Who raised you after she died?”

“No one and everyone.”

“I don’t understand.”

He’d increased his stride as though trying to run away from her inquisition. He stopped suddenly and turned to her.

“You don’t need to understand. Go inside, Johanna.”

Her husband could be very rude when he wanted to be. He dismissed her from his thoughts without a single glance back to see if she was going to obey his orders.

Johanna stood on the steps for several minutes thinking about her husband. She wanted to understand him. She was his wife now. and it was therefore important that she know what made him happy and what pricked his temper. Once she’d established those facts, she would know how to respond.

“What has you frowning so, m’lady?”

Johanna jumped a foot, then turned to smile at Keith. “You startled me,” she admitted, stating the obvious.

“I didn’t mean to,” the Maclaurin warrior replied. “I noticed you looked upset, and I wondered if I could do something to improve your mood.”

“I was just thinking about your laird,” she answered. “He’s a complicated man.”

“Aye, he is,” Keith agreed.

“I would like to understand how his mind works.”

“Why?”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Direct questions don’t work,” she remarked. “Still, there’s more than one way into a castle.”

Keith misunderstood. “Aye, there are two entrances, three if you count the pathway through the cellar.”

“I wasn’t referring to this holding.” she explained. “I meant that there is always more than one way to get what you want. Do you see?”

“But there are still just two entrances to the keep, m’lady,” Keith stubbornly insisted.

She let out a sigh. “Never mind, Keith.”

The soldier turned the topic. “Will you go walking with Auggie this afternoon?”

“Perhaps,” she replied. She hurried up the steps to go inside. Keith rushed ahead of her to pull the doors open.

“Today’s Thursday, m’lady.”

He’d blurted out the reminder. She smiled. “Yes, it is.” she agreed. “Please excuse me. I want to check on Dumfries,” she added when the soldier stayed by her side. She assumed he wanted to know what her plans were. She really needed to find a way to convince Gabriel she didn’t need an escort. Both Keith and Calum were driving her daft following her around. She’d had to resort to sneakery in order to go riding this morning, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to pull that trick again. They were on to her now. Besides, using deceit to get what she wanted wasn’t very honorable.

Johanna removed her carrier from her back and put the pouch with her bow and arrows in the corner by the steps.

“Then you knew it was Thursday all the while?” Keith asked.

“I hadn’t thought about it, sir. Is it important?”

He nodded. “You should be wearing the Maclaurin colors today.”

“I should. But yesterday . . .”

“You wore the MacBain plaid, m’lady. I specifically remember.”

She could tell the soldier found her error distressing. “It’s important I remember, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You wouldn’t want to insult either clan, would you?”

“No, of course not. I’ll try to remember in future, and I do thank you for pointing out my mistake. I shall go upstairs immediately and change.”

“But the day’s half done, m’lady. You might as well keep the MacBain plaid on. You could wear the Maclaurin colors tomorrow and the day after. That would right the insult.”

“She should wear the MacBain colors every other day, Keith. It’s unacceptable for MacBain’s wife to wear your colors two days in a row.”

Calum made that announcement from the doorway. Johanna started to agree with his suggestion, but Keith’s expression changed her mind. Since he looked more irritated than Calum, she decided to agree with him.

Neither soldier was particularly interested in her opinion or agreement however.

“Calum, I believe Keith is correct when he ...”

“She will not wear your clan’s colors two days in a row.”

“She will,” Keith countered with a glare. “She wants to get along, Calum. You would do well to follow her example.”

“That’s a change of heart, isn’t it? You said not an hour ago you wished she’d stay where she was put.”

“I meant no insult. It would make my task easier if she would let me know where she . . .”

“Since when is looking after one woman, a tiny one at that, a difficult task? And while I’m thinking about it, since when do you decide where she stays? I believe, since she’s a MacBain now, it’s my duty to put her where . . .”

“No one’s going to put me anywhere.”

The soldiers ignored her protest. They were fully involved in their heated argument. She’d started out with the thought to placate the men. Now she wanted to throttle both of them.

Johanna reminded herself that she had vowed to get along with everyone in the clan, even mule-headed commanders. Since they were ignoring her, she slowly backed away. They didn’t notice. She turned then and hurried down the steps and went over to the hearth where Dumfries was resting.

“The Highlanders have peculiar notions about everything, Dumfries,” she whispered. She knelt down and patted the dog. “Why would grown men care what their women wore? I can see you don’t have any answers. Quit your growling. I’m going to look under your bandages to make certain you’re healing properly. I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

The injury was healing nicely. Dumfries was thumping his tail by the time she’d finished readjusting his bandage and giving him a bit of praise.

Keith and Calum had taken their argument outside. Johanna went upstairs, changed into the Maclaurin plaid, and then returned to the great hall to help with the preparations for dinner. Fortunately Leila and Megan were assigned the duty today. The other women wouldn’t listen to her. Janice, a pretty woman with reddish blond hair, was the worst offender. She would turn her back on Johanna in the middle of her request and walk away. Kathleen was another Maclaurin with a negative attitude toward her mistress. Johanna wasn’t certain how she was going to change the women’s behavior, but she was determined to try.

Leila and Megan were exceptions to the Maclaurins’ united rule of ignoring her. They seemed eager to assist her. Their acceptance of her as their mistress made her like them all the more.

“What is it you wish done, m’lady?” Leila asked.

“I would like you to fetch a skirt full of wildflowers for the tables,” Johanna said. “Megan, you and I will put linens on the tables and put the trenchers out.”

“The hall’s looking fit, isn’t it?” Megan remarked.

Johanna agreed. It smelled clean, too. The scent of pine mingled with the fresh outdoors aroma of the rushes on the floor. The hall was large enough to hold at least fifty warriors. It was sparsely furnished, though. She was just noticing that fact when two soldiers came down the stairs carrying two tall-backed chairs.

“Where do you think you’ll be putting those?” Megan demanded.

“By the hearth,” one of the men replied. “We’re following our laird’s directions.”

Megan frowned. She flipped the white linen cloth over the table and bent to smooth the material. “I wonder why . . .”

Johanna interrupted. She took hold of the other end of the cloth and pulled it down to the opposite end of the long table. “He wants me to sew by the fire,” she explained. She let out a sigh then. The soldiers carried the chairs across the room. Dumfries started growling. The men were both young, and both were obviously a little intimidated by the hound’s bluster. They altered their directions to make a wider path around the dog.

Johanna was sympathetic to their fear. She considered telling them Dumfries wouldn’t hurt them, then changed her mind. The soldiers would be embarrassed if she let them know she was aware of their discomfort. She pretended to be too busy adjusting the cloth to notice.

The chairs were placed at an angle in front of the fireplace. The men bowed to their mistress after she’d thanked them and hurried out of the hall.

The chairs had plump seat and back cushions. One chair, she noticed, was covered with the MacBain plaid; the other, the Maclaurin.

“Good heavens, do you suppose I’ll have to alternate chairs the way I do the plaids?”

“I beg your pardon, m’lady?” Megan paused in her task of putting the stack of bread trenchers on the table. “I didn’t quite make out what you were saying.”

“I was just muttering to myself,” Johanna explained. She took half the stack from Megan and went to set the other table.

“Wasn’t it thoughtful of our laird to think about your comforts? As busy as he is, he still thought to have chairs carried in for you.”

“Yes,” Johanna hurriedly agreed, lest Megan think she wasn’t appreciative of her husband’s consideration. “I believe I’ll work on my tapestry tonight. That should please my husband.”

“You’re a good wife to want to please him.”

“Nay, Megan, I’m not a very good wife.”

“But of course you are,” Megan countered.

Gabriel walked inside in time to hear the Maclaurin woman’s remark. He paused at the top step, waiting for his wife to turn around and notice him. She was busy placing trenchers on the table in front of each stool.

“A good wife is a submissive wife.”

“Is being submissive a bad thing?” Megan asked.

“It doesn’t seem to agree with me,” Johanna replied, trying to make light of the painful topic.

“You seem very submissive to me,” Megan announced. “I haven’t noticed you ever disagreeing with anyone, m’lady, especially your husband.”

Johanna nodded. “I have tried to do his bidding because he has proven to be considerate of my feelings. It will please him to have me sit by the fire and work on my sewing, and since I do enjoy the task, I will accommodate him.”

“That’s good of you, wife.”

Gabriel drawled out his opinion. Johanna turned around to look at her husband. She blushed with embarrassment. She felt as though she’d just been caught doing something sinful.