Elyne was right. The roof would not keep out the rain. The beautiful sun of the morning gave way to low-hanging clouds in the afternoon and rain by evening, She and Tavish debated whether or not to light a fire, but the inky darkness and steady drumbeat of rain made the chances of the distant English soldiers seeing their smoke unlikely. Besides, the cold and the practical concerns of cooking the rabbit drowned out any remaining concern.
Fortunately, Tavish had been anticipating an adventure and had come more prepared. He lit a fire in the driest tower room he could find. Elyne hoped the chimney would prove sound, and for once, she was in luck.
Tavish quickly skinned the rabbit and Elyne took over the cooking while Tavish scoured the remains of the castle for useful items. As long as Elyne remained busy, she could put aside her current circumstances and focus on the task at hand. She fashioned a spit to roast the meat and placed it over the fire, turning it at the right moment to enhance the flavor and cook the rabbit through, while not letting the outside get burned. It was a bit of an art and she was competent to do it.
It was not until Tavish returned to the tower room with a large headboard that the reality of their situation became unavoidable.
"What is that?" croaked Elyne.
"Headboard. Cracked here, so it was left behind, but it should be serviceable. I found some other pieces from another bed we can put together." Tavish dragged in another large piece of polished wood and gave her a satisfied smile, as if she should be pleased with his ingenuity.
Elyne only heard the words "bed" and "together." Her mouth went dry and her palms began to sweat. Lovely.
"I doubt we should need all this," Elyne said weakly.
"Must sleep somewhere. Might as well enjoy our comforts while we can."
"Our comforts?" Elyne swallowed convulsively. When had it gotten so hot in the room?
"Aye, I ken what ye're thinking." Tavish cast her a sly look.
Oh no, he couldn't know that, could he? "I wasna thinking anything."
"I've no' brought ye a mattress. Now it took a little effort, but I found some ticking that wasna so bad. Course the straw had been removed, thank goodness, or it would have been ruined. Earlier today I had cut a bunch of grasses and heather for the horses before it started to rain, and so I stuffed the ticking with it. I think it shall do."
Tavish flung the stuffed mattress on the large carved bed and gave her another wide smile, waiting for her response.
Elyne said nothing but stared at the mattress. The mattress. The place people slept. In bed. Together.
"It's no' a proper mattress filling I grant ye, but…" Tavish's smile began to fade.
"Aye, it's well… how… ?" Elyne's inarticulate commentary on the bedroom situation seemed to draw alarm.
"Careful now!" exclaimed Tavish and pushed past her to the fireplace. He grabbed his knife from his belt and stabbed the rabbit and held it up to blow out the flames.
The disaster of their supper shocked Elyne back into action. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry."
"My fault. Distracted ye."
"Och, 'tis ruined for sure."
"Nay, I like my meat well-done."
Unless he liked his meat crispy, Tavish Grant was attempting kindness. Again. Fortunately, some parts of their supper remained edible, and Tavish cut up the meal into pieces with his knife. The knife was a nice one, with a steel blade and a handle decorated with silver and gold.
"Ye have a nice knife there," commented Elyne, wishing to change the subject.
"A gift from my parents many years ago."
They sat down to their meal on a bench Tavish had brought from the great hall. It was not quite balanced, or perhaps the floor was crooked, so any time either one of them shifted, the bench tipped one way and then the other, like a child's toy.
"I can see why this bench was left behind," grumbled Elyne. Thump.
"Ne'er had a meal more amusing," laughed Tavish. "When I have a home o' my own, I shall cut all my benches' legs one shorter than the other, so all my guests can enjoy it."
Thump.
"Are ye always in such good spirits?" accused Elyne.
"Ye're displeased wi' the meal?"
"The meal? How can ye talk o' food or sleeping at such a time?" Elyne stood and began to pace back and forth in the room, smaller now with the addition of such a large piece of furniture. A large bed to be exact.
"We are trapped here, waiting for the English to come take us prisoners, while the rest o' my family is under siege." Elyne brushed stray strands of hair away from her face and quickly wiped her eyes. "They will either be starved out or it will come to a battle. Who knows how many o' my family I shall lose. Perhaps ye dinna care, but as soon as I saw those soldiers, I knew it could only end in death." Elyne's voice shook, and she hugged herself to try to gain control over her emotions.
Tavish stood and walked slowly toward her, as if not wanting to scare a spooked horse. It was a wise move. "There now, ye dinna ken if any o' those things will happen. Perhaps the Laird Campbell will be able to deal peaceably wi' the English captain."
Elyne squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears and shook her head. He drew closer to her. She could feel the heat from his body even though he did not touch her.
"Ye must have a little faith." His voice was low and soft.
"Faith doesna keep my brothers alive. People die. My brothers may be put to the sword. And I can do naught about it." Elyne kept her eyes shut and choked back a sob. A warm hand touched her shoulder, comforting and soft.
"Faith is no' pretending that hard things winna happen. Faith is believing that whatever trials come our way, we shall no' be left alone."
Elyne opened her eyes and gazed up at Tavish. His expressive eyes were hazel green, not brown as she had thought. His jaw was strong, but his lips were the color of wine and looked soft.
He was close, too close. And bless her if she didn't wish to be closer. "I gave my sister similar advice, to have faith."
"'Tis easier advice to give than to take."
Elyne nodded. "I still wish I could do something to keep them safe." Somehow, without meaning to, she leaned closer to Tavish. He put his arms around her and she rested her cheek on his chest.
"I warrant yer brother is thinking the same thing about ye. I trust he knows that I will do everything in my power to return ye to him safely. I hope that gives him peace. And we should take comfort that yer brother is a wise man. He has many clansmen wi' him. And the English would be damn fools to cross paths wi' that lot."
A smile crept unbidden on Elyne's face. "I suppose ye are right."
Tavish gave her a squeeze and then released her, holding her shoulders at arm's length and giving her another one of his easy smiles. "Right? O' course I'm right. The Campbells are known far and wide for their swordsmanship, not to mention the bow and the lance. But the Grants have a reputation o' their own. Why, Grigor's breath alone could frighten a platoon o' English soldiers back to their mamas."
Grigor. Oh yeah, him. Nice to know his breath was foul.
Elyne gave Tavish a bracing smile, one she hoped conveyed that she had regained her composure, and returned to the bench. Thump.
Tavish sat beside her before the fire. Thump.
Elyne cleared her throat. She must turn the focus of her thoughts toward something productive, not the fear that gnawed at her insides—and certainly not the odd tingling sensation that bubbled up from her toes when Tavish touched her or was close to her, or even glanced in her general direction.
"So tell me more about my intended." Elyne folded her hands neatly in her lap and tried to steer the conversation into safer waters. "I am sorry to hear ye dinna approve o' his breath."
"Och!" Tavish slapped his hand to his forehead. "I am always saying the wrong thing. Nay, lassie, I was just trying to get a smile from ye. Grigor's a fine lad, though I can hardly count his strengths, since we be cousins. My place on this earth, I fear, is to keep the man humble and bring some levity to his otherwise drab existence."
"So Grigor is of a serious nature?"
"Aye, and that's not the half of it. He can find a flaw in a fly's wing at twenty paces. Has a true knack for finding imperfection."
From what little Elyne knew of him, she could only agree with Tavish's assessment. Grigor did readily find the negative side of life. How nice for her. "Perhaps having a wife may change him."
Tavish started to shake his head but caught himself with guilty smile. "Aye, I'm sure it will at that."
"Are his parents both living?"
"His father is. Grigor is destined to become the Sheriff of Inverness after him. His mother passed away bringing him into this world."
"Poor thing, to be raised without a mother. Perhaps a women's touch will bring him some much-needed happiness."
"Well now, that might be." Tavish rubbed the back of his neck in a thoughtful manner. "Thing is Laird Grant remarried, and the second Lady Grant raised Grigor. Though I'm not sure she had much of what ye would call a lady's touch."
"Did she no' care for the lad?"
"Oh, she cared for him something awful. Cared for him too much I warrant. She is what ye might call…" Tavish paused and looked up at the rafters until the pause lengthened.
"Not sure about the right word?"
"Oh, I know the word, just not sure I can speak it in yer presence."
"That bad?" Elyne covered her mouth with her hand in mock horror.
"Worse. But she runs a mean household. Everything in its place and everything on schedule. Not even a mouse would dare creep over her threshold."
"Perhaps with a new mistress, the house would be more homelike and Grigor could relax and feel more comfortable," Elyne suggested, though she was beginning to not have much hope for it.
"Perhaps, but I doubt it. Grigor is one who likes things organized and hammered down tight."
Elyne sighed. Her attempts at making Grigor into something other than an ill-tempered, critical beast had failed. And now she had a notoriously controlling mother-in-law to contend with too. It just kept getting better and better.
"Thank ye for the information," commented Elyne in a flat tone. "Does yer cousin have any other notable habits? Does he feed misbehaving children to the wolves or keep venomous snakes as pets?"
Tavish laughed. "See now, I'm not the best person to ask about my cousin. He used to beat me at every sport, every contest we ever tried, so I must be desperately jealous of him. He is a fine specimen of a man, m'lady, that I am forced to admit."
"A fine concession. I thank ye."
"He is not a bad man. Just a hard one." Tavish's eyes had lost their mirth. He was telling her the truth. Was it a warning?
They ate more of the rabbit in silence and shared Tavish's cask of ale. It was fortunate he was more prepared than she. He had brought bread and cheese as well, but by mutual consent, they were saving those for tomorrow.
Elyne lingered at her meal, unsure how to proceed. The bed loomed large; its ornately carved headboard with the vicious crack mocked her. What was to come next? Would they sleep together? That is, next to each other? In the bed. The big bed. She and Tavish. She and Tavish in the big bed.
"Well now!" Elyne stood up to clear her head. "Well now." It was dark outside, the only light coming from the fireplace. The orange flames danced, casting flicking shadows on the walls and the bed. "Well now."
"Aye, lass, so ye've said. I warrant 'tis time ye got some sleep."
"Sleep? Oh nay, I am much too awake for sleep." Her traitorous body decided to make her yawn at that inopportune moment.
"Aye, ye look the picture of activity. Come now, I dragged this up all those stairs. At least do me the courtesy of trying it out. Let me know if it is comfortable."
"Nay, I could'na," murmured Elyne, edging away from the monstrous temptation.
"Here, let me see." Tavish gingerly lay down on the bed. "Feels good. Smells good. Has not broken yet. Here let's see what will happen wi' two of us." He patted the bed beside him and she walked to the bed, unable to resist the summons.
She slowly sat on the bed and then in a bold move stretched out beside him. "Tavish, this is lovely, verra lovely…" But how to say she could not sleep with him? She turned ever so gently and breathed in his warm scent. He smelled of fresh outdoors, wood smoke, and pure man. She breathed again. "Verra lovely," she repeated.
"Aye." He turned to her, their faces close. "Verra lovely indeed." He moved ever so slightly toward her. She reciprocated in kind. If they got any closer, their lips would touch.
"Och, I need to get up before I fall asleep." Tavish sprung out of bed with a start.
"Where are ye going?"
"To stand watch. We canna both sleep at the same time, o' course."
"Naturally," she said, though she had not thought of it before. She was flooded with relief that felt a good deal like disappointment. "When do ye wish me to take a watch during the night?"
"Nay, ye stay here!" His voice was more forceful than she was accustomed to. His smile had abandoned him.
"If ye wish it," Elyne said slowly, trying to discern the cause for the sudden change in his demeanor.
"I do. That is, I do wish it. For ye to stay here." He backed out of the room like she might bite him. "Stay here." He fumbled for the door latch and exited quickly, slamming the door behind him.
Strange. Why was he in such a rush to leave?
