Read Online The Laird of Stonehaven by Connie Mason - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Connie Mason
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loss, after all. I will have no trouble finding a willing lass to warm my bed.”
He turned to leave, then spun around, his expression dark and riveting. “Mind what you do in here. I dinna know what magic you wove last night, but it mustna happen again. ’Tis my final warning.”
The aura surrounding him turned dark blue and forbidding. Blair shuddered. Why could she not be like other women?
Because God made you what you are and you canna change it,
responded a small voice inside her. Her mission in life was to heal, and nothing could change the course of her destiny.
After Graeme left, Alyce returned and helped Blair hang bunches of herbs from the ceiling and place everything else on shelves and in cupboards. Then Blair returned to the keep, more than ready to finally break her fast. Graeme sat with his kinsmen, laughing and talking without as much as a glance in her direction. Blair tried to console herself with the knowledge that being ignored by Graeme was best for both of them.
What rankled, however, was the way Glenda fawned over Graeme and how he seemed to bask in her attention. At that moment Blair would have given anything to be like other women.
After Blair finished eating, Jamie arrived to acquaint her with the keep. They started with the storeroom on the first floor and proceeded floor by floor to the parapet. The keep was small compared to Gairloch, but it had many endearing qualities, such as tapestries on the walls to keep the wind and cold at bay and numerous fireplaces. It was well maintained and had glass windows. The hall was spotless, as were the bedchambers and kitchen, due no doubt to Maeve’s vigilance and Jamie’s excellent stewardship. Even the garrison was surprisingly neat and clean.
“How many people live within the keep?” Blair asked, impressed by all she had seen.
“It varies,” Jamie explained, “depending on the number of guardsmen serving Laird Graeme at any given time. The laird’s cousins, Heath and Aiden, live here, as does Stuart, his uncle. And those who serve the laird occupy the third floor. Maeve and I have rooms in the rear of the keep.”
Jamie unhooked a ring of keys from his belt and handed them to Blair. “These are yers now.”
Blair hesitated. She didn’t deserve them. She was a fraud. Though she might be Graeme’s chafelaine, she was not his wife in the true sense of the word. But when Jamie pressed the keys into her hand, she accepted them readily enough.
“I’m not trained to run a keep,” she admitted. “I’m a healer, and my duties have always been confined to the sick and wounded. I would appreciate it if you continue on as you have before I arrived. The keep is running so smoothly in your capable hands, I see little need to change things.”
Jamie grinned. “I shall be happy to continue in my former capacity. But I will still consult with ye when yer opinion is needed. Maeve mentioned that she would like to talk with ye about changes in the menu. She wants to learn what ye like so she can prepare it for ye.”
Blair was touched. It seemed that Maeve was willing to accept her, after all, and even wanted to please her.
Later that day Blair met Heath, a somewhat cynical but polite man about Graeme’s age, who made no bones about his reservations concerning her marriage to his cousin.
“Graeme is a special mon,” Heath told her. “His faith in God was severely tested in France. He was wounded but came back to us. His kinsmen dinna want to see him hurt.”
“Graeme fought in France?” Blair gasped. She knew so little about her husband.
“Aye. Ye’ve heard of Joan the Maid, have ye not?”
“Of course, who hasn’t?”
“Graeme went to France to join her fight against England. He was one of the Scotsmen who made up her personal guard.”
Puzzled, Blair asked, “Why did Graeme leave his home to fight on foreign soil?”
“He felt strongly that defeating the English in France would diffuse the King’s threat to Scotland.
He turned to leave, then spun around, his expression dark and riveting. “Mind what you do in here. I dinna know what magic you wove last night, but it mustna happen again. ’Tis my final warning.”
The aura surrounding him turned dark blue and forbidding. Blair shuddered. Why could she not be like other women?
Because God made you what you are and you canna change it,
responded a small voice inside her. Her mission in life was to heal, and nothing could change the course of her destiny.
After Graeme left, Alyce returned and helped Blair hang bunches of herbs from the ceiling and place everything else on shelves and in cupboards. Then Blair returned to the keep, more than ready to finally break her fast. Graeme sat with his kinsmen, laughing and talking without as much as a glance in her direction. Blair tried to console herself with the knowledge that being ignored by Graeme was best for both of them.
What rankled, however, was the way Glenda fawned over Graeme and how he seemed to bask in her attention. At that moment Blair would have given anything to be like other women.
After Blair finished eating, Jamie arrived to acquaint her with the keep. They started with the storeroom on the first floor and proceeded floor by floor to the parapet. The keep was small compared to Gairloch, but it had many endearing qualities, such as tapestries on the walls to keep the wind and cold at bay and numerous fireplaces. It was well maintained and had glass windows. The hall was spotless, as were the bedchambers and kitchen, due no doubt to Maeve’s vigilance and Jamie’s excellent stewardship. Even the garrison was surprisingly neat and clean.
“How many people live within the keep?” Blair asked, impressed by all she had seen.
“It varies,” Jamie explained, “depending on the number of guardsmen serving Laird Graeme at any given time. The laird’s cousins, Heath and Aiden, live here, as does Stuart, his uncle. And those who serve the laird occupy the third floor. Maeve and I have rooms in the rear of the keep.”
Jamie unhooked a ring of keys from his belt and handed them to Blair. “These are yers now.”
Blair hesitated. She didn’t deserve them. She was a fraud. Though she might be Graeme’s chafelaine, she was not his wife in the true sense of the word. But when Jamie pressed the keys into her hand, she accepted them readily enough.
“I’m not trained to run a keep,” she admitted. “I’m a healer, and my duties have always been confined to the sick and wounded. I would appreciate it if you continue on as you have before I arrived. The keep is running so smoothly in your capable hands, I see little need to change things.”
Jamie grinned. “I shall be happy to continue in my former capacity. But I will still consult with ye when yer opinion is needed. Maeve mentioned that she would like to talk with ye about changes in the menu. She wants to learn what ye like so she can prepare it for ye.”
Blair was touched. It seemed that Maeve was willing to accept her, after all, and even wanted to please her.
Later that day Blair met Heath, a somewhat cynical but polite man about Graeme’s age, who made no bones about his reservations concerning her marriage to his cousin.
“Graeme is a special mon,” Heath told her. “His faith in God was severely tested in France. He was wounded but came back to us. His kinsmen dinna want to see him hurt.”
“Graeme fought in France?” Blair gasped. She knew so little about her husband.
“Aye. Ye’ve heard of Joan the Maid, have ye not?”
“Of course, who hasn’t?”
“Graeme went to France to join her fight against England. He was one of the Scotsmen who made up her personal guard.”
Puzzled, Blair asked, “Why did Graeme leave his home to fight on foreign soil?”
“He felt strongly that defeating the English in France would diffuse the King’s threat to Scotland.
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