Chapter Ten
After Evan and Athol had departed their company, Ben had been called away with his clansmen about some matter regarding the fish stock and storage, and Kenzie was left to entertain herself.
She’d gone back outside and explored the castle a little more before heading back indoors and having a quick wash before dinner. The castle was quiet when she left her room, although when she made the staircase, she could hear the muffled sound of a baby crying.
Going up to the third floor, Kenzie made her way toward Alasdair’s room and walked in to find him awake and kicking at his blankets. The wet-nurse was nowhere to be seen. He was the most adorable little cherub she’d ever seen, and without thought, she picked him up, putting him over her shoulder and patting his back.
“You’re so adorable, aren’t you, little man. And why are you awake? Did you not want to sleep?” Kenzie sat down on the rocking chair beside the crib and rocked him until he calmed down.
She ran her hand over his bottom, and the dampness of the cloths that were acting as a nappy told her what was wrong. Seeing the small table that the nurse had called a changing table, Kenzie took Alasdair over to it and laid him down.
He suckled his thumb, kicking his legs, obviously annoyed at whatever was soiling his nappy. Kenzie untied the cloth and prepared herself for whatever was in there and cautiously looked, relieved to see it was only wet. She smiled at her own silliness. She’d never done this before.
Kenzie rubbed Alasdair’s belly, cooing at him while she reached over to the side of the table and grabbed a wet cloth that sat in a bowl of water. Cleverly, it sat above a burning candle, which kept the liquid warm enough not to startle the baby when she wiped it over his bottom.
He watched her, his trust and innocence making her heart turn over in her chest. What a little darling. And Kenzie couldn’t help but feel sorry for the lad that he’d never know his mama.
Kenzie allowed the air to dry his bottom, before seeing a pile of folded nappies on the table. She placed one under him, and tried to remember how it was tied, muddling her way through it enough that she was sure the wet-nurse would be happy.
“Ye like children.” A voice said from the doorway.
Kenzie finished dressing Alasdair and picked him up, placing him over her shoulder once more. “I do, although I’ve never had any of my own. But he’s the sweetest boy.”
Athol came up to her and peeked at the baby. “He looks like Aline more than Ben, but I suppose that may change in time.” She walked over to the window and stared out at the growing dusk.
“Did you want to hold him?” Kenzie asked, rocking him a little when he started to fuss. He was probably hungry for his next feed.
“No, ’tis not something that, I, as a lady, need to do. We have servants for that.”
Kenzie met her gaze and read the disdain that stared back at her through cold, blue orbs. “Aren’t you here to help the laird raise his son? And if you are wouldn’t that entail holding the child at some point?”
“I will help raise him, but I’ll not be his nurse. When I said I will help raise him, I merely meant to give him guidance and teach him about what is expected of him and what the clans, both Ross and Grant, expect of him in the coming years. Nothing more.”
Alasdair settled in Kenzie’s arms, and she stole a peek at his sweet little face, smiling when she saw that he’d fallen asleep. “But surely, if you aspire to have a child one day yourself, you’d wish to hold your own baby. How could you not want to hold this sweet bundle of love, if only to practice?”
Athol snorted, which, considering her status as a lady, wasn’t at all ladylike. But something told Kenzie that the woman before her said one thing in front of those who would be influenced by her but then did quite another.
“When I marry, I will have children, as is my duty as a wife, but that is all, for that is what is expected of me.” Athol walked over to the change table and ran her hand across the wood, her expression one of boredom.
“I’m sorry Athol, but that sounds very cold.” Kenzie wanted to say more, but she chose not to. All of them were guests of Ben’s, and she didn’t want to start an argument with a woman who came from a clan that wasn’t the most placid in Scotland.
Athol shrugged, not seeming to care what Kenzie said. A sound at the door made Kenzie start and expecting the wet-nurse she turned only to see Ben leaning on the doorframe. His smile left Kenzie breathless and for a time she wasn’t able to form any words.
“You’re a natural,” he said, coming up to her and kissing his son’s head. The gesture was extremely intimate, and Kenzie didn’t miss the annoyance that crossed Athol’s face.
“I was just telling Kenzie what a sweet boy ye have. May I hold him, Ben? Kenzie wasn’t sure if I should or not since I’ve never done so before.”
“I never—”
“Pass him to me,” Athol said, holding out her arms. “Or should I sit. Mayhap sitting would be best,” she said, moving to the chair and making herself comfortable.
“Do ye mind, lass?” Ben asked, rubbing his son’s back.
Kenzie adjusted her hold on Alasdair but reluctantly handed him to Athol, who, interestingly, was more than willing to hold the baby, now that Ben was in the room. The change of heart wasn’t missed on her, and it only solidified what Kenzie had wondered about before. Athol was conniving and said things that would help her own cause. She had no wish to hold the child, and seeing the little boy now squirming left Kenzie with a sense of triumph.
As expected, the baby became uncomfortable with the woman holding him uneasily. She did look awkward. Even Ben looked pained. The wet-nurse entered and offered to take the babe, who Athol was only too happy to relinquish.
“I suppose it’s time for dinner. May I walk with you down to the great hall, Ben?”
Ben nodded and looked to Kenzie. “Are ye coming, lass?
About to join them, Kenzie paused when Athol waved her away. “Kenzie will be down shortly. You said you wished to relieve yourself first before the meal.” Athol threw her a consoling look. “Mayhap you should see the castle healer if you’re having pains in the stomach.”
Mortified, Kenzie’s face suffused with heat, and she snapped her mouth shut before she told this high-and-mighty lady what she could do with her smart mouth. What the hell was Athol’s problem?
“Are ye well, Kenzie? Did ye want me to send the healer up to ye room?” Ben let go of Athol’s arm, and it warmed her blood to see annoyance on Athol’s face. What an awful person she was to lie, and right before her without a flicker of guilt.
“I’m fine, but I do wish to freshen up.”
Ben nodded and left with Athol without so much as a glance back at her. Kenzie glared at the now vacant doorway. Okay, Athol, if this is how you want to play the game, all’s fair in love and war.
…
Dinner that evening was odd. Ben sat between Athol and Kenzie and normally, being placed between two such beautiful women would’ve warmed his blood, but this evening it was like sitting between two warring clans.
Something had changed since the Grant’s arrival earlier today, for now Kenzie and Athol didn’t seem to agree or get along about anything at all. Not about the food or drink. What Kenzie liked, Athol disliked, and she even went so far as to give the serving lass a good scolding that her disappointment was to be repeated to the cook once she returned to the kitchens.
The fish was too dry or the mead too sweet. The fire that burned behind them was too hot, or Kenzie’s gown, which Ben thought most attractive, was too revealing for a woman. Athol even went so far as to hint that Kenzie was a woman of little morals. The comment was not lost on some of his servants, who seemed to agree with the Grant’s comment if their snickering smiles were anything to go by. He wouldn’t stand for it, not from anyone.
Ben had had enough. “Athol, while it pleases me that you’re visiting me and your nephew at Castle Ross, do not be forgetting that Kenzie is also my guest, and no matter what ye opinion of her gown is, there is no reason to be so cutting in ye remarks.”
Athol’s eyes grew round as the bowls on the table, and her brother glared at him. He’d promised that he’d not allow anyone to slight Kenzie. Not even his family-related-by-marriage, and he would keep that promise.
“Forgive me, Laird Ross. I mean no offense. But I couldn’t help but wonder if Kenzie knows that gowns such as she’s wearing are of an older style, and women now wear less revealing necklines. I was merely trying to help the woman, who clearly has no means of righting such a wrong.”
“How very kind of you,” Kenzie said, sarcasm heavy in her tone. Seemingly something that was completely missed by Athol. “Maybe you could sew my gowns to be as prudish as your own.”
Athol gaped and slammed her goblet down, spilling a little of the contents on the table. “I was merely being helpful. No need to be prickly simply because I am gowned more appropriately than yourself.”
Ben clapped his hands, gaining the clan’s attention. “Let us have some music and dancing.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Kenzie said, pushing back her chair and walking down into the center of the hall. She sided up beside Bruce, one of Ben’s best fighting men, and curtsied before him.
Ben ground his teeth as he watched her ask Bruce to dance. The sight of his lass being held close in another’s arms hollowed him out inside. Athol laid her hand against his arm and it did little except annoy him that he’d have to divert his attention away from Kenzie who now danced and laughed with his clansman.
“Would ye dance with me, Ben. I know Aline would wish for us to enjoy each other’s company.”
Something about the lass’s words left him on edge, and he shook his head. “Another time, lass. I’d prefer to watch this evening’s entertainments. You go ahead and find yourself a partner. I’m sure with ye pretty face there are many who would wish to dance with ye.”
Just not himself.
Bruce finished his dance with Kenzie, and she was soon swept up into another of his clansman’s arms. Bruce came and sat beside him, taking a long swig of his drink before throwing him an amused glance. “Kenzie is a lot of fun. I like the lass.”
“Aye,” he mumbled, annoyed at himself more than his friend for acting like a jealous ass, which he was. He should be happy the lass was enjoying his home, getting along with his clansmen and women. Her time here should be one of enjoyment, if he could make it so, and therefore, his jealously over Kenzie having a good time was not necessary. “Aye, my friend,” Ben said, slapping Bruce on the back and smiling at Kenzie. “We’re fortunate to have her as a guest.”
“And what about…” Bruce gestured toward Athol who was also taking part in the impromptu dancing before them.
Ben sighed. “She’s like looking at a ghost. With her here, I feel like Aline is watching me.” Wanting him back, although he could never look at Athol in the way the lass might wish.
“Ye do realize what the Grants being here means, do ye not?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. As they said, they’re merely wishing to fix a wrong they did against me.” Not that Ben believed that at all. He’d seen how Athol looked at him when she thought no one was watching. Her small touches weren’t something he wished for. She was his wife’s sister, a woman that he’d, of course, care for, but never in the way in which the lass wanted.
“Ye don’t actually believe that, do ye?” Bruce threw him an amused glance before refilling his tumbler of mead. “The Grants want something from ye, and I think they mean to marry ye off to their surviving daughter, which, if ye were looking for another wife, would make sense.”
“Dinna say that. Ye know better than anyone that I’m not looking to marry again.”
“So, the thought has not entered ye mind with the lovely Kenzie? I know, should I be in your position right now, I’d seriously consider it.”
Ben narrowed his eyes at the sight of his clansmen’s appreciative inspection of Kenzie, before he reminded himself he wasn’t jealous. Fool. Never was there a man more so than he was right now. “Kenzie will be returning home soon—without a hand fasting to me.”
“’Tis a shame, I think the lass would do well here, and by the way she keeps looking at ye, I’m guessing she’d like to stay as well.”
Ben looked up and caught Kenzie’s attention. She was standing beside Clan Grant’s men, but not conversing with any of them. That she was a beautiful woman was obvious, and a pang of regret pierced Ben that she couldn’t be his forever.
Someone else’s, in another time and place, that he couldn’t even watch and appreciate from afar. He poured more mead into his tumbler.
“Mayhap I should look to Aline’s sister and marry again. My son would be well cared for by having a woman so like his own mother. The same values would be bestowed upon Alasdair that Aline would’ve taught him.”
Bruce raised his brow. “Ye said yourself ye didn’t wish to marry again, and there are plenty of women who would warm ye bed without so much as a backward glance when the pleasure was over. Ye have ye heir. Leave it at that.”
Ben rubbed a hand over his face. His clansman was right, yet, if he did marry Athol, at least that would secure his keep and lands from possible clan war. Not that he suspected the Grants of wanting to do him harm, but Laird Grant not accompanying his son and daughter here did leave him wondering if their truce, the burying of ill will, was really so.
“Tomorrow I’ll be helping with the preparations for Beltane. Have the horses prepared, as I’ll take Kenzie with me out to collect the wood for the fires.”
“The berry trees are showing that they’ll be abundant in fruit this year. It’ll mean a harsh winter.”
“Aye, but we have a good many cattle ready, and in the coming months, we’ll send them south to Stirling for sale. ’Tis time that I started to act as the laird that I am and ensure Castle Ross and the tenants who rely on this keep are kept safe and well during the harsher months to come. We shall celebrate Beltane, hope that the crops will be plentiful, and all will be well with the people here.”
Ben caught Kenzie slipping out the doors that led to the front of the keep and he stood, downing his drink. “I leave ye in charge. I’ll be back anon.” Bruce didn’t say anything, but Ben wasn’t stupid enough not to know his clansman had seen Kenzie leave the great hall.
No one followed her, and yet that still didn’t make it safe for her. Castle Ross wasn’t impenetrable, and he couldn’t guarantee her safety, even with his own clansmen if they’d imbibed too much drink. She was an unmarried woman and there were some who’d think she was too forward and fast for staying here without a husband. Kenzie would be an easy target and he could not allow that.
He found her at the side of the castle that looked out over the sea. The stars shone brightly down upon her and with her light gown she looked like a ghostly apparition, her gown billowing out behind her like mist.
Ben came up behind her and wrapped his arms about her waist, breathing deep the smell of roses that wafted from her hair. Kenzie always smelled so good, as fresh as a summer day. “What are ye doing out here, lass. ’Tis not safe.”
“I think I’ve had too much to drink, and I needed the fresh air. The mead tonight seems stronger than it was previous evenings.”
He frowned. “Do ye feel ill? Can I get ye something to eat, perhaps? That may settle ye stomach.”
“No,” she said, turning in his arms and wrapping hers about his waist.
Being like this together, holding the woman who’d captured his attention from the second he laid eyes on her, was right. And yet, not. She wasn’t staying. Wasn’t of this time and would never be his.
“Athol hates me, and she wants you, so of course I have to hate her back.” She grinned up at him, and he laughed.
“Aye, I think ye may be right. And even though an alliance with her family would save me from clan war, I’ll not be doing what she wants. I have an heir. I dinna need a wife. I also have a bonny lass who’s warming my bed, so I’m quite content.”
“I don’t trust any of them. Keep your wits about you, Ben. They’re trouble. I can feel it.”
He loved that she didn’t shy away from telling him what she thought. Was not scared of his reaction, simply trusted that he would never hurt her, even if what she said could be cutting or worrying.
“I’ll be on my guard, lass. I promise ye that.”
She yawned. “I think I will go up to bed and get some rest. I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow.”
Ben leaned down and kissed her gently, he didn’t try and deepen the embrace, he wasn’t a mongrel, and his lass wasn’t feeling well, but still, tasting her again, having her pliant, sweet body against his left him wanting her with a savagery he’d never experienced before.
Mayhap he had finally lost his mind or another organ that he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to give away.
“Come,” he said, pulling her toward the castle. “I’ll take ye to your room, for tomorrow, I need ye well rested. I have a surprise for ye.”
Kenzie’s emerald eyes lit up and twinkled in the starlight. “What is it? You have to tell me.”
Ben laughed, pulling her closer to his side. Damn, he would never tire of seeing her smile. “Nay, lass, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow, and then all will be revealed.
Her pout made him pull her into a notch on the outer castle walls and kiss her. Deeper this time, with more intent than he intended, but with Kenzie he didn’t have any control. Was wont to lose it whenever around her. Maddening wench.
“Maybe you should tuck me in, my liege.” Her teasing grin made his cock twitch.
He shook his head, taking her hand and pulling her through the castle doors. “Nay, I may be known in your time as a hardened warrior, but even I will not take advantage of a woman who’s not feeling well. Ye need your sleep, lass, and even though I shall take ye up on the offer of tucking ye in, I will be leaving shortly thereafter.”
Kenzie shrugged. “Spoilsport.”
Ben didn’t know what the word meant, but he took a wild guess. “Tomorrow evening, lass, and I promise I’ll do more than tuck ye in.”
“Hmm.” She grinned, her hand sliding over the back of his kilt and across his ass. “I’m going to hold you to it.”
So would he.