“I want guards on Claray.”
She turned sharply at that announcement from Conall, and whirled away just as quickly when she saw he was still on his knees, pleating his plaid. His beautiful bare arse was fully on display as he knelt and leaned over the cloth.
“How many?” Hamish asked, and then suggested, “Three?”
Claray’s eyebrows rose. Three seemed excessive to her. Surely one or two would do?
“Four,” Conall growled, apparently not sharing her opinion. “I want ye to be one o’ them, Hamish. There’s no one I trust more.”
“Thank ye, cousin,” Payton said dryly.
“Ye ken I was no’ including you in that comment,” Conall said with irritation as he finished donning his plaid. “I meant among me men. I trust ye and Roderick like brothers.”
“Good,” Payton said cheerfully. “Then Roderick can help guard ye and I’ll guard wee Claray.”
“The hell ye will,” Conall growled as he stood and straightened his pleats. “Roddy can help guard Claray and ye’ll guard me.”
“If ye insist,” Payton said with a shrug.
Conall nodded with a grunt, finished with his pleats and then lifted his head sharply. “Wait. I do no’ need a guard.”
“Aye, ye do,” Laird MacKay growled. “Or would ye leave yon lass a widow fer yer pride?”
Claray froze like a doe surrounded by wolves when the men all turned their gazes her way and caught her looking and listening. It wasn’t until Payton winked that she had the good sense to quickly whirl away.
“Did ye tell her about the clan members from MacKay?” Payton asked suddenly.
Claray heard Conall curse, and then he was suddenly beside her, clasping her hand and urging her away from his aunt and cousin.
“Wife,” he said once he’d drawn her several feet away and stopped to face her. “Ye ken those worries ye had about clothes and servants and such?”
“Aye,” she said slowly, wondering what that had to do with MacKay clan members.
“Well, ye’ll have servants to help clean up the keep.”
“I will?” Claray asked uncertainly.
“Aye. In fact, some o’ them have already arrived. ’Tis why I came to find ye earlier in the orchards,” he said, and explained, “At least two dozen families, plus another ten single individuals, moved to MacKay for protection after the murders. Their numbers have doubled or mayhap even tripled over the years, and me uncle sent a couple o’ soldiers on ahead to MacKay while yer father was fetching the priest to marry us. They were to ride flat out to MacKay and tell those clan members that I was returning and any who wished to join me should pack up and be ready to move. Then as we were riding past MacKay this morning, he sent a couple more to tell them it was time and escort them here to Deagh Fhortan.” He grimaced now, and admitted, “I came to find ye in the orchard to tell ye they’ve arrived, but are waiting on the other side of the moat until the drawbridge is repaired. Unfortunately, ye were upset when I came to tell ye, and then . . .”
He didn’t have to say what the “and then” was for why he hadn’t told her. She quite vividly recalled what the “and then” had been before the arrow had been loosed on them. The thought made her smile softly for a brief moment, before what he’d said registered and her brain started to pick it over.
These families probably hadn’t been castle servants. From what she understood, those had all died in the poisoning. Everyone who ate that night had died. Only the families in their own cottages or farms, who made their own food that night, had survived. But these people were willing to give up whatever life they’d built for themselves at MacKay, to return to their clan’s land even though it meant starting over. The thought made her feel awful, and she said as much to Conall.
“It breaks me heart that we’ve so little to offer them just now. We can no’ even give them a roof over their heads.”
“Aye, ’twill be tough fer a bit fer all o’ us. But we’ll all work together to make a good life,” he assured her. “And then they’ll have their pride, their land and their clan back . . . and that’s a lot.”
When Claray nodded, he kissed her on the forehead and suggested, “Why do ye no’ go explore the keep and see what’s what now that the animals are cleared out.”
“The animals are cleared out?” she asked with surprise.
“Aye. That was something else I was coming to tell ye when I found ye in the orchards,” he admitted with a wry smile. “There was just the one family o’ feral pigs, and a few chickens nesting on what remains o’ the stairs to the upper floor. The men moved them out into the bailey and are building doors to keep them out.”
“Oh.”
“Now go on,” he urged. “I’m sure me aunt and Kenna are bored standing around here.”
Nodding, Claray started to turn away, but then stopped and whirled back to give him a quick kiss, then promptly blushed at the spontaneous action when his eyebrows flew up.
“Wives kiss husbands when they part,” she muttered to cover her embarrassment, and headed away, only to have him catch her arm and draw her back.
“That was no’ a proper kiss,” he announced solemnly, and then commenced to show her his version, which left her breathless and flushed when he released her and walked back to the men.
“What’s this?”
Claray tore her gloomy gaze from the moss- and mold-covered interior walls of Deagh Fhortan keep to see that Kenna had moved into a small dark room off the great hall. The younger woman was presently using one foot to sweep aside twenty-two years’ worth of detritus that had gathered on the floor. Although why she was bothering, Claray wasn’t sure.
“I need a torch,” Kenna announced, kneeling now and sounding excited.
Claray turned toward Hamish, but before she could say anything, he barked at the soldier beside him, “Hendrie, find a torch.”
The man rushed off at once, and Hamish, Roderick and the fourth soldier, who was apparently named Colban, followed Claray toward Kenna when she headed that way.
“This was the buttery if I recall correctly,” Lady MacKay said as she reached the now doorless room just steps ahead of Claray. “And I’m quite sure that trap door you are clearing off leads down into the beer cellar. I can hardly believe the trap door is still intact.”
Claray grunted at the comment. She couldn’t believe it either. Nearly every other stick of wood in the keep had been eaten away by wood rot—if not wholly, then mostly—thanks to the rain and damp let in by the lack of roof, which had apparently been eaten away by wood rot first, once there was no one around to repair it as needed. All that was left in the keep were three half stairs that the chickens had been roosting on, and perhaps a third of the door into the kitchens. Everything else, including the upper floor, was completely gone. Even the furniture in the great hall had disintegrated or been stolen. Conall’s men were going to have a lot of building to do. They would also have to remove the tree that was growing up one wall of the great hall, its roots pushing the stones up and making one heck of a mess.
“With the trap door being in such good shape, the beer cellar may be fine too,” Kenna pointed out with excitement as she tugged at the metal ring to open the trap door.