A Perfect Wife [Highland Menage 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (14 page)

Ramsay didn’t miss much. He nodded as he came through the open door. “Master Duff, to what do I owe the honor on this fine Michaelmas Day?”

“I just had a wee word with Fergus. The man has eyes like a hawk.”

“Aye, but he keeps most of what he sees to himself. Did ye ken he hasna left that room since
’
twas built? Mistress Hetty sends him all he needs.”

Duff grimaced at the thought of experiencing life only through watching others, or reading about them.

“Did Fergus speak of the boats, and our lady wishing to wander in the village?”

Duff nodded. “Aye, and I dinna like it. We need someone to stay near her, someone she’ll accept without kenning
’
tis a guard, yet has keen eyes, is a quick thinker, and can pretend to be eager when he’s lookin’ around, not searching for the damned Rosses. Our laird willna wish Lady Kiera to ken she may be in danger. We’ve let her think all is sweetness and light so as not to upset her with the babe and all.”

The keeper swore, long and loud, something about a goat, a pig, and a horse that was anatomically impossible.

A high-pitched snicker had them both turning. The young boy holding a polishing cloth blanched. He was the one who’d stabbed Laird MacKenzie.

“Camden, what are ye doin’ in here?” demanded Ramsay. “Ye should be off with the rest of the lads!”

“Pardon, keeper, but I have nay family to go to. I’ll guard Lady Kiera. None will think aught of a wee lad at her side.” He imitated Ramsay’s expression. “I be fierce, Keeper!”

Ramsay scratched his chin as he thought it over. “It could work,” he murmured quietly to Duff. “Lady Kiera willna accept a guard, but if we tell her Camden will be her page as a reward for stabbing her father in the arse with his waster—”

“
’
Twasn’t on purpose, Master Duff!”

Duff hoped his twitching lip was hidden by his mask. “Did the MacKenzie thank ye for stabbing him in the arse?” he asked. Camden hesitantly nodded. “Do ye ken why?” He got a head shake in return. “
’
Twas a reminder that even those who seem small and weak can still attack, and defend.” He clapped the boy on the shoulder. “When ye attacked yer liege lord ye reminded him to watch his back no matter what. Aye, today we’ll have ye defend our lady.”

“By that Master Duff means ye will stay with Lady Kiera, no matter what,” ordered Ramsay. “Dinna go off to fetch something, ye must get another to do it. Can ye whistle loud with yer fingers?” Ramsay waited for the boy’s nod. “Good. Do it three times to sound an alarm.”

“Aye, keeper,” replied Camden seriously.

“Ye may look wee,” said Duff with quiet intent, “but yer heart is fierce and that
’
tis all that matters. I will trust ye with our lady.”

“Thank ye, Master Duff, Keeper.” Camden bowed to them. “I willna leave yer lady. Will she have her wee dog with her?”

“Aye, to start, but Chester goes where there’s food.”

“I’ll keep some dried venison in my pouch and give him a piece here and there,” said Camden. “Do ye think the scent will keep him near?”

“
’
Tis a good idea,” said Duff. “Ye are a smart lad.”

“Do ye have aught else to wear?” asked Ramsey, gesturing at Camden’s clean, though well-mended, shirt.

Camden’s cheeks darkened. “I have a shirt an auld granny gave me. She put colored thread on it.” He shuddered, grimacing in disgust. “
’
Tisn’t manly.”

“Did the lads tell ye that?” asked Duff. Camden nodded. “Then tell them sometimes a man wears such things because the lassies like it. Ye’d nay be wearin’ it for yerself, mind, but so the lassies will give ye a kiss.”

His face showed even more disgust. “I dinna wish any kisses!”

“Aye, ye’re too young,” said Ramsay, chuckling. “But the grannies may give ye a sweet bun as ye look so fine. Do ye ken that?”

“Och, aye!” Camden nodded eagerly.

“Then go change your shirt, lad.”

“Aye, sir.” The boy turned to Duff. “Thank ye, Master Duff. I willna shirk my duty.” He bowed and rushed off.

“That is one well-trained lad. How are the others treating him?” asked Duff.

Hazing was a normal part of military life. Duff couldn’t, and wouldn’t change that as it toughened them up. But there were limits. William Sinclair of Braal had beaten Kiera’s brother Colin so badly while fostering with the Earl of Caithness that Colin had lost an eye. Such a thing would not happen at Kinrowan.

“The lad got a few thumps from the ones who ran when MacKenzie bellowed, until the rest jumped on them for bein’ cowardly.” Ramsay picked up the polishing cloth Camden had set aside. “The lad was born in a village halfway to Redcastle. He was orphaned when he was about four. As he was a bright lad he was taken in by an old soldier from Kinrowan who’d been released to return home. When the old man got sick Camden cared for him. He died a few months back, leaving instructions the lad was to be sent here, and enough coin to do so.”

“The boy has a place in Kinrowan now,” said Duff. “Will his being with Lady Kiera cause more trouble for him?”

“Nay. I’ll tell the lads
’
tis a penance. If he’s with the lady he willna be able to play after we feast, aye?”

Duff joined in Ramsay’s chuckle. Any red-blooded male would hate to miss out on proving themselves in a wild game of football.

“I’ve been inside for too long. I’m eager to do some thumping.” He slapped his right fist into his left palm. “My wee wife may need to put some witch hazel on her laird’s bruises this night.”

Ramsay raised an eyebrow in challenge. “There’ll be many who wish to thump the laird and his steward, just to make sure they’re good men.”

“And the keeper as well, aye?” Duff nudged Ramsay, grinning lewdly. “Ye’ll be showin’ Bessie yer bruises this night and havin’ her kiss them better.”

He ducked out, laughing, before Ramsay could clout him. A last look showed the usually stern man had a hint of a goofy grin. Did he look like that when he thought of Kiera?

* * * *

“What delights are next, Camden?”

Kiera strolled along Shore Street. The sky was brilliant, finishing off a wonderful day with a wild display of color. All sorts of boats had dotted the strait all day. The tide was high, so they didn’t have to cross the sand to climb in and out. Chester had raced around so much he’d headed back to the castle a good hour ago. It had upset Camden, but she told him it was that or carry the dog. The lad had tried, but Chester fought to get free and raced off.

She’d met Maggie and said how lovely she looked with her pearl brooch. Roddy had smiled so hard she thought his face would burst. Their babe was far enough along that it showed, so Kiera praised that as well.

She’d gotten many comments from women for the things she’d sent. She found herself tearing up each time. When she said it was the babe the women laughed, the old ones reminiscing. She’d promised the village would not starve while the castle ate well, that her laird and his brother had near starved themselves and would not do that to any of their clan. That had made the women tear up.

It had been a tiring day, but she was not going to miss a moment of her freedom. The perfect wife would have returned to her castle long ago, meekly accepting the need to stay close to her husbands. She’d done her best to be perfect, but for this short time, she wanted to enjoy herself.

“Are ye sure ye dinna wish to watch the football, my lady?” Camden’s eyes pleaded with her. “
’
Tis ever so exciting.”

She heard the yearning in his voice. “I ken you wish to watch, and mayhaps play. Seeing my laird and steward get soundly thumped is nay pleasant for me. But dinna let me stop ye. I’ll just walk on the shore for a wee bit more.”

Camden, eyes wide, shook his head rapidly. “Nay! Lady Kiera, I willna leave ye. I ken why ye willna wish to see a game different from a man. The other lads told me the Great Hall is so big ye can play running at the glove when the weather is bad. I shall wait for that.”

As the game involved grabbing a glove from the floor and keeping it away from every other man just as eager to snatch it, she doubted she’d be watching it, either. Castle Leod was far too small to do such things indoors. It was less dangerous on the turf as fewer bones and heads were broken there, than on a stone floor.

“I’ll be sure to ask Master Duff if he can arrange for some games the next time we have a half day off.”

“Oh, my lady, thank ye!” Camden, problem solved, strode forward with her eagerly.

“Shall we go to the headland afore starting back?” It wasn’t that far, and it would give her a sense of achievement rather than just strolling along the sand.

He judged the sun before answering. “Aye. Have ye been out on the sea afore?”

There were still quite a few small boats nearby, though the numbers were dwindling with the evening.

“Nay, have you?”

He shook his head. “I dinna like the sea. The man what raised me said
’
tis filled with monsters. Great beasts with tentacles to wrap around ships, and worse!” He shuddered.

“Mayhaps on the great open ocean, but not here. The strait is nay deep.”

“If ye say so, my lady.”

They walked on for a bit. Camden seemed to be gauging the distance they had to go. He tilted his head up at her. She recognized a touch of devilry, mostly because she knew it in herself.

“I’ll race ye to the end. If ye think ye can run, since ye are a lady and all.”

She laughed at the challenge. It was just what she needed. There were few around to watch, and who knew when she’d have the chance again. She grasped her lovely dress to lift it over her ankles and set her bare feet in the sand.

“Go!” she yelled as she set off.

“One of those, are ye!” he yelled as he followed. She laughed as she ran, with him roaring after her. She took a chance to look over her shoulder and stepped on a rock. Her ankle twisted and she went over into the sand.

“Lady Kiera!” Camden was immediately at her side. “Are ye harmed? Is the babe?”

He looked devastated. She held up her finger for him to wait until she caught her breath. The poor boy looked terrified.

“I’ve had my breath knocked out, and my ankle’s a wee bit sore, but I’m fine, Camden.” The pain wasn’t that much, so she forced a smile. “
’
Twas wonderful to run like a lass again.”

“Laird Malcolm will send me away for harming ye.” Camden’s chin quivered.

“Whisht, laddie,
’
tis my fault as I said ‘go’. Anyhow, my father wouldna wish the only man whose sword has touched him in years to be sent away.” She got to her knees and, with his help, tried to stand. She winced when she put her toe down. “Mayhaps if I had a stick to lean on.”

He immediately ran the few feet to the headland and thrashed through the trees, eager to find one.

“Are ye hurt, my lady?”

Kiera whipped her head around, almost falling over in the process. The voice came from the water. A man stood in a small boat. A caped woman sat in the front, her back to them.

“Do ye wish to get back to the village? I could take ye there.”

Camden sidled close. “I dinna like this,” he whispered.

Kiera tried to walk but the sprain was worse than she’d thought.

“
’
Tis just me and my sister, out for Michaelmas. Ye are Lady Kiera, aye? I be Harold and this be my sister, Molly.”

Kiera looked down the shore. In the sun with two good legs it was a nice walk. With the sun going down and a foot she could not put down without pain, it seemed miles.

“I either crawl, hop, or ride in a boat with them,” she said to Camden. “I ken ye dinna like the sea. You could walk along the shore with us.”

“Only if that man’s sister walks with me.” He eyed the two as if they were evil. “Have her as a hostage, ye ken?”

Harold had rowed the boat to the shore and pulled it close to the sand. He stood beside it with his hand out. He looked happy to help her. Or perhaps he was thinking of the reward he’d get from her husband for returning her safely.

“I dinna have much choice, Camden.”

“Ye always have a choice, my lady. Sometimes
’
tis atween bad and worse.” He glared at the couple. “Methinks this be one of them times.”

“I’ll carry ye to the boat, my lady.”

“Yer sister can walk the shore with me,” said Camden boldly.

Something flickered over Harold’s face. “She canna walk that far,” he said.

“Then I will stay here with her until ye leave my lady on the shore by the village. Then I’ll run to her, and ye can row back and pick yer sister up.”

“
’
Twill be too dark by then,” said Harold. “Ye can sit in the back with the lady.”

Camden got in first. His white face and tight jaw proved his courage. When Harold picked her up she realized he’d not bathed to put on his best clothes. She wasn’t sure if he’d ever bathed, or cleaned his teeth.