Aeschene nodded her head rapidly as she valiantly held on to her tears.
“I swear, yer imagination will be the death of us all someday,” Marisse groused as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. “I am quite certain he is fine.”
Aeschene wasn’t so certain. “Please, take me below stairs so I can find out what has happened to him?”
She could almost hear Marisse rolling her eyes. “Verra well,” she said. “But I am quite certain yer husband is fine.”
She prayed with all her heart that her friend was right.
Aeschene’s worries were immediately quashed the moment she heard her husband’s voice. He was in the gathering room, speaking with Lachlan and Rory. She could hear them before she and Marisse reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Thank God!” she whispered under her breath.
“I told ye all was well,” Marisse reminded her.
Even though her insides were shaking with relief, she didn’t want to make a spectacle of herself. “Take me to him,” she whispered softly.
“Richard,” she said as Marisse gently shoved her to stand beside him. “Is all well?”
“Aye,” he replied.
Without asking permission, she wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged him tightly. “I am glad ye have returned.” It felt good to feel his heartbeat against her cheek. He smelled like the outdoors and rugged man and ’twas all she could do not to demand he take her above stairs at once. Instead, she decided ’twas best to behave in a more dignified manner. Stepping away, she said, “Ye must be exhausted and hungry. I shall have a bath readied and have a meal brought to ye at once.”
“Marisse, will ye please help me?”
She left him then, in the gathering room, while she went to do as she said she would.
Confusion knitted Richard’s brow as he watched his wife walk away. When she had hugged him -which he wasn’t certain he found an annoyance or a delight - he could feel her tremble. Before he could ask what had upset her so, she was walking away to see to his needs.
She was as baffling as she was delightful. He did find the latter realization more than just annoying. He didn’t want to like her. He didn’t want to find himself thinking about her whenever he was away from her.
Last night, he, Lachlan, and Rory had helped patrol their western border. Thankfully, there had been no sign of any of their enemies. However, the quiet stillness of the night afforded him plenty of time to think about his wife.
All the night long, his mind -which should have been focused solely on watching his surroundings for any signs of trouble - kept wandering back to her.
Was she warm enough? Had she eaten? How had Raibeart and Colyne treated her?
And did she miss him?
’Twas the last question that irritated the bloody hell out of him. What did he care if she missed him? What did it matter?
He had decided the thoughts were brought on by nothing more than sheer exhaustion, lack of food, and the simple stress of being chief of his clan. Nothing more than that.
Why then, when he saw her descending the stairs, did his heart skip a beat? Why did his traitorous groin ache with a need he hadn’t felt in an age?
’Twas a puzzle, to be certain. His mind kept going back to the fact that he’d known her less than a sennight. His body’s reaction to her was naught more than a natural thing, born out of too many years alone as well as the fact that she was the closest thing to a goddess as a mere mortal could ever hope to get.
Bah! he cursed inwardly. Ye are behavin’ like a lad on the cusp of manhood.
Exhausted to the point of madness, he ordered Lachlan and Rory to bed before he himself ascended the stairs. What I need is sleep, he told himself.
Stripping out of his clothes, he washed the dirt and grime away and slid into his bed. Before he succumbed to exhaustion, he prayed to God he would sleep without dreaming.
Chapter Thirteen
Aeschene was nothing if not diplomatic. She had learned at an early age that if you wanted to get someone, say a very stubborn father or brother, to do a thing, it must be presented in such a manner that the presentee believes ’twas his own idea to begin with.
And that is exactly what she did with Raibeart and Colyne. Once she explained to them that Richard was running himself ragged with all the work that needed to be done, the boy’s minds whirled.
“I do wish to help Richard,” Raibeart said, scratching his jaw as if he had a week’s worth of beard lining it.
“I want to help too,” Colyne chimed in. “But how?”
Feigning complete ignorance, Aeschene and Marisse shook their heads as if they had no earthly idea how the two lads could assist their older brother.
After a length silence, Aeschene spoke up. “’Tis too bad there are so many cottages and huts that lay empty and in ruins.”
Marisse caught on quickly. “Aye. But I believe it is more a shame that there are many occupied cottages that are in dire need of repair. Mayhap, in a year to two, Richard will finally find the time to repair them.”
Raibeart’s eyes grew wide as if an idea had suddenly dawned on him. “I’ve got it!” He declared loudly. “We shall help repair the cottages and huts!”
Colyne agreed with a grin and a nod. “I think that is a most excellent idea, brother.”
Raibeart’s smile beamed and he looked rather victorious. Tapping his temple with a slender index finger, he said, “I get my brains from our da.”
Getting Colyne and Raibeart to agree to help had been the easy part. While bored and restless, they truly wanted to help their brother. Especially Raibeart. While he didn’t say as much, Aeschene could sense that he wanted to prove to his older brother that he was mature and grown enough to help. If he had to help fix up a few dozen cottages to prove it, he would.
’Twas getting the MacCullough clanspeople to agree that was proving difficult.
As soon as she had learned Richard had put himself to bed, she had to go back to the kitchens to cancel the bath she had requested for him.
“Dunnae fash yerself over it, m’lady. Let the poor man rest. He can have his bath when he wakes.”
She was ever grateful for Hattie’s kindness and sensibilities.
As soon as they broke their fast, Aeschene, Marisse and the lads set out to offer their help to their fellow clansmen. ’Twas a bonny spring morn and the sunshine felt good upon her skin. With a skip in their step and a light heart, the small group walked through the gates and down the familiar path.
Ever hopeful, Marisse led them to the very first cottage and tapped on the door. The inhabitants within pretended not to be. But Aeschene could hear someone scurrying about inside. “We shall come back to this one later,” she told the lads.
They received a similar response from the second cottage even though Marisse swore she had seen an older woman running inside only moments before.
The owner of the third cottage opened the door. An older woman, with light brown hair that held only a hint of gray. She listened, albeit rather impatiently if her tapping foot was any indication. As soon as Marisse explained they were there to help, the woman politely declined the offer before not so politely slamming the door.