While he did hold some doubt that she was acting as a spy for her father, she was still, above all things, a MacRay. He hadn’t known her long enough to know where her loyalties might lay.
“Verra well,” he said as he pushed himself away from the table. “I agree with yer plan to keep the lads occupied.”
Something flashed behind those brilliant blue eyes of hers. Was it anger or disappointment? He couldn’t say.
“Ye do understand it be more than just keepin’ them occupied, aye?”
He nodded before remembering she couldn’t see. “Aye, I understand.” He took her hand in his and said, “I be ready to retire.”
He watched as a blush crept up her cheeks and she bit her lower lip to quash a smile.
“’Tis awfully early,” Lachlan said with a grin.
Richard mouthed the words, shut yer gob, before cradling his wife’s hand in the crook of his arms.
“I admit to bein’ a bit tired myself,” Aeschene said.
If her smile was an indicator, she was anything but tired.
Chapter Fourteen
Dawn burned bright and warm the following morn. Once again, Richard was up and out of the room before Aeschene woke. ’Twas too lonely a sensation to wake all alone and she didn’t like it.
Peevishly, she slid from the bed to tend to her morning ablutions. As she made her way around the bed, her toes caught on something hard, sending it twirling across the floor. From the sound of it, ’twas the chamber pot.
Using the bed for balance, she grabbed her foot and rubbed it. She cursed aloud at her absent husband for leaving the bloody thing out where she could injure herself. ’Twas lucky for him he was not in the room right now. Elst she would find the chamber pot and bash him over the head with it.
Three of her toes throbbed to the point of distraction. She doubted they were broken but that thought did not help her mood.
Once the pain subsided, she carefully made her way to the little table that sat near the hearth. She poured what little water was left into the basin and grabbed a washing cloth. The water was painfully cold, one more thing to find bothersome this morn.
When she realized she was in a foul mood, she stopped and prayed. “Lord, please take the anger from me heart. Let me do yer good work this day.”
For years she had prayed to be out of the tiny room back home. For years, she had prayed for a purpose, for meaning to her life. It seemed an ungrateful way to react to something as simple as a misplaced chamber pot or cold water.
Feeling better with the matter settled in her mind, she finished dressing and stepped across the hall to Marisse’s chamber.
Richard had spent another night in his private study, sleeping on a thin pallet. As he’d done the night before, he loved his wife until they were both exhausted. And like a skulking thief, he slipped away the moment she had fallen asleep.
He woke before dawn, having slept very little, with an aching back and cold seeping into his bones. His first thoughts were of Aeschene and how much he wished he was still in his own bed, his arms wrapped around her. But that image bespoke of a risk too great to take. For both their sakes.
“I be far too old for this,” he whispered into the dark room. His knees creaked and his bones cracked loudly when he pushed himself to his feet. Stretching his arms with a wide yawn, he worked the kinks out of his neck and back. For a moment he thought mayhap ‘twould be a good idea to have a bed brought to his study, but quickly dismissed it. Rumors flew as fast and as free as birds in these parts. The last thing he wanted was to subject his wife to what could potentially be very ugly rumors. Even if there were a bit of truth to them.
With a sigh of resignation, he rolled up his pallet, folded the blanket, and tucked them into the corner of the room. Cold, hungry, tired, and sore, he sighed once again and set off for the gathering room.
’Twas as enjoyable a morning meal as Aeschene could remember having since her childhood. They all sat discussing their plans for the day, she and her husband, Marisse and the lads. Lachlan and Rory came in late, offered their apologies, and sat to partake.
A sense of warmth spread through her blood, bringing forth a beaming smile. She simply couldn’t tamp down the joy she felt in this small moment of time. For years, she had dreamt of a family of her own, all sitting together, supping, talking, and enjoying one another’s company. No more so than when she was locked away in the attics of her father’s home.
This, she mused as she closed her eyes and listened to the chatter taking place around her. This is what ye have always wanted.
Something Raibeart said broke through her quiet reverie.
“Ye have younger lads than me who have begun their training,” he groused.
“Those lads have proven themselves to me,” Richard said.
To Aeschene’s ear, her husband sounded frustrated, as if he and his brother had had this same discussion before.
“Is it nae enough that I am yer brother?” Raibeart asked.
Aeschene felt the tension between them rising.
“Nay, and ye well know it,” Richard replied gruffly. “Every man, no matter their bloodline, must prove themselves ready. Ye know the rules.”
Raibeart shot up from the table. “I am naught but a nursemaid to Colyne and now them.”
She knew who the them he referred to were. Mayhap she should feel embarrassed. Instead, she felt sorry for Raibeart. He was five and ten, and in her mind, he should have begun his training long ago.
“And a nursemaid ye shall remain until ye learn to show some respect,” Richard seethed. “Now sit down.”
Unable to stop herself, Aeschene reached out and placed a hand on her husband’s forearm. “Richard?” Her voice was soft and low, and she hoped it would calm his ire.
“What?” He barked the question.
Unfazed by his tone, she asked, “What should Raibeart do to prove himself to ye?”
“That is none of yer concern,” he snapped. “’Tis betwixt my brother and I.”
She pulled her arm away as she tilted her head. “I see,” she said with a nod. “So I shouldn’t interfere?” she asked.
He scoffed. “I thought I made that abundantly clear when I said ’twas none of yer concern.”
Nodding her head as if she had complete understanding of the situation, she said, “May I ask another question?”
His heavy sigh told much; he was reaching the ends of his patience. Not waiting for his permission, she asked, “What qualities do ye think makes a man a good chief and warrior?”
“What?” He was unmistakably confused by her question.
“Let us pretend for a moment that Raibeart grows up and meets a beautiful lass. A lass he’d verra much like to marry. Let us also pretend she is the daughter of a chief. With that comes the chance that Raibeart could become chief of that clan upon her father’s passing.”
Colyne giggled. “Raibeart? Married?”
Aeschene ignored him. “Besides knowing how to read and write-”
Colyne laughed even louder. “We cannae read nor write!”
Appalled, she turned to look at her husband. “Is this true? Yer brothers cannae read nor write?” If true, ’twas a severe lack of attention in their upbringing.