“After we won our keep back, we made many changes to make it safer,” he told her as he held her hand, pulling her along behind him. “We are still undergoing those renovations.”
Marisse was coming up the steps behind them, with Lachlan and Rory bringing up the rear. Thankfully, Marisse kept a good distance between herself and Black Richard and Aeschene. Black Richard was glad for the distance. For inexplicable reasons, he had the desire to describe the surroundings to his new bride. As much as he tried to remain quiet, to hurry a long as quickly as possible, his traitorous heart would not allow it. It seemed to speak to his feet, slowing them down so that his eyes and heart could savor the moment.
Aeschene said nothing as she held onto the banister for balance and her husband’s hand for safety. What he did not know was that she was trying to memorize the number of steps between landings. ’Twas a trick of sorts that she and Marisse had developed over the years, to help make it easier for her to get around the MacRay keep without falling or tripping quite as much.
“The gathering room has been moved to the second floor,” Black Richard told her. “The bedchambers are on the third.”
“And what do ye use the first floor for?” she asked.
“The armory,” he told her as he they came to a stop on the second landing. “Our warriors sleep there.” The unmarried warriors numbered twenty-one in all.
Pulling open the large, heavy wooden door, he led Aeschene inside, into the small alcove.
“We be in the alcove,” he began. “Ahead is a door that leads to the gathering room. To yer right, is a door and stairs that lead to the north tower.”
There was another door, to their left, but Richard did not share that with her. Behind it was a set of circular stairs that led up to the second floor, or down into the armory.
The door leading into the gathering room was made of thick wood and reinforced with iron. Yet another line of defense should the others fail. While it was easy enough for him to open he doubted his wife or her maid would be able to. For the first time in years, he began to second guess his excessive need for safety. He remembered back to yesterday, when he had promised her she would be able to go out of doors whenever she wished.
He thought then of Raibeart and Colyne. The two lads were often into one form of mischief or another. Mayhap acting as his wife’s personal guards would help to keep them out of trouble. He would discuss the matter with them later. Or rather, he would give them a personal order. There would be no discussion.
Pulling the door open, he gave a gentle squeeze to his wife’s hand. “This be the gatherin’ room,” he said as they stepped inside. “There be a wide landin’ here, with two steps down.”
“Och!” Aeschene exclaimed with a smile. “Thank ye for tellin’ me that. Stairs and I do not get along verra well.”
Was it only yesterday that he found her sense of humor or the ease in which she smiled irksome? Why then this day did he begin to appreciate it? Where had the foul mood he’d awoken to gone? Why did his heart feel light and happy?
Soon, the hall was filled with people welcoming their laird home. While they were glad to see his safe return, many were more than just a bit curious about his new bride. A group of women of varying ages stood near the fireplace, speaking in hushed tones. All eyes were on Aeschene and Marisse.
Mysteriously absent from the welcoming party were his two younger brothers. Although Black Richard knew ’twas absurd to hope they weren’t getting into trouble, he still sent a silent prayer heavenward. Undoubtedly, he would know before the day was out what had kept the lads away.
Black Richard called for one of the women to come forward “Loreen,” he said. “This be yer new mistress, and her maid, Marisse. Please see them settled into their chambers.”
The pretty young woman, with dark blonde hair and big brown eyes bobbed a curtsy. She was mayhap just a few years older than Aeschene. “Aye, Richard,” she said before taking one of the satchels from Marisse. “Ye two look as though ye could use a good rest,” she said.
’Twas nothing short of the truth. There had been very little sleep for either woman last night. It also did not help that they had travelled through mud up to their horse’s knees for the better part of the day. Aeschene did not require the aid of a looking glass or even good vision to know she must look a terrible sight. Her wool dress felt heavy, weighted down by all the mud and muck. She could also feel splattering of it on her cheeks.
“I must look a fright,” she replied as Marisse took her by the hand to lead the way.
“The stairs be narrow,” Marisse warned once they reached the steps. “Take the finger loops.”
Aeschene did as requested. Even though her eyes did not work as they once had, she could not help but glance back at her new husband. She wondered if he was looking at her, and if so, was it with some sort of fondness? Was he eagerly anticipating being with her later, to consummate their marriage?
The thought of consummation made her cheeks grow warm. With her mind otherwise occupied, she was paying no attention to what she was doing. Half way up the steps, she miscalculated the next and stumbled forward into Marisse. One on top of the other, they slipped and fell, but thankfully, they did not slide far.
Black Richard, watching from only a few feet away, held his breath with wide eyes as he watched the scene unfold. Horror propelled him forward quickly and he was behind his wife, helping her to her feet in only a matter of moments. Holding her about her waist, he studied her face and hands closely, looking for any sign of injury. “God’s teeth,” he cursed under his breath. “Are ye injured?”
Embarrassed beyond measure, Aeschene shook her head. “I am fine, but how is Marisse?”
“I be fine as well,” Marisse answered as Black Richard held out his hand and helped her to her up.
“I be so sorry,” Aeschene stammered. “I be so verra sorry!”
Marisse expelled a frustrated breath. “Please, do not fash yerself over it, Aeschene. We’ll have the steps memorized in a few days.”
“Memorized?” Black Richard asked, curiously.
“Marisse helps me to memorize things,” Aeschene replied, still looking embarrassed. “Such as how many steps it is between things, how many stairs there be, and the like.”
He thought it an excellent solution. “How ingenious,” he replied. “Are ye certain ye are not hurt?” he asked once again, just to be certain.
“Only me pride,” Aeschene replied cheekily.
He found her sense of humor endearing but stopped himself before he could smile. The only way he could keep himself from being dangerously attracted to her was to remind himself who she was: A MacRay. A MacRay could not be trusted, not even pretty, funny, and blind MacRays.
“I will leave ye to it,” he said before spinning on his heels, racing down the stairs, and leaving the gathering room. Distance. That was what he needed to put between himself and Aeschene.
At the top of the stairs, they made a left turn. Aeschene counted every step with the hope that someday she could traverse these halls and stairs without help from anyone. She could make out the glow of torches that lined the hallway and felt much relieved for them. It stood to reason that where the torches ended, so did the halls.