Page 45 of The Highlander’s Tempting Touch

He was so kind, so warm. Watching him put the children at ease and soothe the little girl’s unhappiness made Niamh’s heart flutter. He reminded her of her father, years ago when she was a little girl and he would sit down and talk with her for a candle-mark or two.

Alistair was clearly good with children, even those that weren’t his own. It made her wonder what he would be like with a son or a daughter. If the scene before her was anything to go by, then he would be stern, but kind. Commanding, but warm. Affectionate and able to step back and administer discipline as needed.

Alistair would be an excellent father - but she couldn’t give him children. As long as he was married to her, he would never have a chance to hold and raise a child of his own flesh and blood.

Niamh shivered. There was a part of her that regretted that thought - regretted that she might not be able to give Alistair the heirs he needed, or children of his own. But even simply that thought, regretful as it was, brought back her nightmares and made her feel sick inside.

Even if she was willing to try, giving birth would only kill her, and possibly the babe as well. She couldn’t risk it, not for Alistair or anyone else, not even for the sake of the clan. It was just too terrifying a prospect, and too dangerous. She felt ashamed by it, but it was true.

Her eyes drifted to her left hand, where the ring Alistair had given her circled her finger. The ring he had given her as a promise, to not demand more than she could give. His gift to ward away her fears and her nightmares.

Alistair understood her reluctance, and he was kind enough not to try and force the issue. Her new husband was kind and generous, despite what it might cost him. She twisted the ring around her finger absently, eyes on Alistair as he continued to talk to the children.

Despite how they’d first met, and what she’d thought of him when they left her father’s castle, Alistair was a good man, and a good laird. Niamh bit her lip, and made herself a silent promise as she slipped away, back inside the castle.

Somehow, she would find a way to be a good wife, and a good lady.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Alistair watched the children disperse to their families and their games with a sigh of frustration. He’d learned a little, but not much, and nothing that would prove that Fergus had been involved with the attempt on Niamh’s life.

All of the children - or anyone else for that matter - could tell him was that a little girl that somewhat matched Niamh’s description had arrived well after the feast had begun. No one recalled if she’d been accompanied by any older individuals. She’d eaten, spent some time watching the dancing and the people in the hall, and then disappeared. No one could recall having spoken to her, aside from Niamh, and she’d never removed her cloak.

No one could say if she’d brought tainted cake with her or poisoned a slice from the platters on the tables. She’d vanished, presumably out the door, during the hue and cry surrounding his realization that something was wrong.

Even the guards at the gates weren’t sure if they’d seen her. All of them would swear that no one had gone out after he’d given orders to seal off the castle - at least, not until Ewan had been forced to allow the villagers to return home. But there were plenty of places for a small child to hide in the castle, and such a cautious youngling might easily evade notice. That was probably why a child had been sent to deliver the poison.

With the limited information they had, there was nothing else Alistair could do. He would have to wait for Fergus’s next move. It galled him, but Fergus MacTavish was a wily opponent.

In the meantime, there were Samhain preparations to complete, the last of the harvests to oversee, and arrangements to be made for winter. Stables had to be prepared to house the animals through the times of bitter, icy cold, and supplies had to be stockpiled for castle and villages alike. That meant gathering plenty of meat, wood, herbs, medicines among other things.

As laird, his duty was to oversee hunting, harvesting, and last-minute trading. He had to make sure his people were supplied with necessities for the winter and hear the petitions of anyone who might need extra aid from their laird. Some needed extra food, others guards against brigands, or extra hands to repair homes. There was always more work to be done than there were hands to complete it, and it was his job to decide what was a priority, and who could be spared to deal with it.

Niamh would do well in the care of his cousin. Catriona had taken a liking to his bonny bride, and Alistair knew he could count on the healer to see that Niamh received whatever assistance she needed in regard to settling in as the Lady MacDuff.

It was astonishing, how quickly castle life swung from one state to the other. Within two days of her wedding, Niamh found herself immersed in preparations for Samhain. The day itself was more than a fortnight away, but the castle was a bustling hive of activity as everyone made preparations.

The children were given large onions, with which to make neep lanterns - a thing Niamh had never seen done before - and access to the castle stores to make preparations for ‘guising’. Adults, however, congregated to bring in the last of the harvests and prepare food for the Samhain feasting and the winter to follow.

Three days after her wedding, Niamh found herself joining a group of women, including Catriona, who were preparing meat for smoking. Animals set to be slaughtered, and those taken in a hunt, were butchered, and the women were responsible for trimming them and rubbing the meat with salt, and a blend of herbs that would add flavor to the food when it was eaten later, as well as help preserve it.

Niamh would have gone to help with the butchering, as she often had in her own clan, but Catriona explained that it was traditionally a task left solely to the men, who had more practice, and would often butcher hunted game in the fields before bringing it home. Instead, the women spent the butchering and hunting days gathering herbs - both those that would be rubbed into the meat, and those that would be used for other purposes.

Some of the herbs would be supplied by the kitchen herb garden, but more needed to be gathered from the wild moor lands.

Niamh took up a basket along with the rest of the women. “What sort o’ herbs will we be gathering?”

Catriona smiled. “’Twill be whatever we can find, tae be divided into separate groups. One group will pick herbs for sachets, teas, candles and soaps, like lavender, mint, wild rosemary and sage. Others will gather those needed for medicines, like willow bark. The rest of us will gather the herbs for the meat, like coriander, wild garlic, fennel, marsh sage, thyme and wild rosemary. And chives if we can find them.”

Niamh nodded, intrigued by the list. “I’m not sure I’m familiar with what all those look like in the wild.” She’d gathered healing herbs for her clan, but she didn’t do much with the culinary ones.

“Tis all right. We’ll show ye everything ye need tae ken.” Catriona smiled gently at her, and Niamh felt a little better.

Then Catriona stepped away to collect some extra tools, and Niamh’s newfound peace of mind was shattered by a shrill, harsh voice. “Imagine, bein’ lady o’ the clan and nae even kenning what herbs tae pick for Samhain. And ye didnae even ken about neep lanterns or that butcherin’ ‘tis a man’s role. A poor sort o’ lady ye be fer our clan when ye dinnae ken the first thing about yer duties.”

Niamh turned to face the speaker, an older woman with gray-streaked hair and a face that looked as if it had become permanently pinched from years of scowls and ill-temper. “’Tis true I dinnae ken everything. However, it doesnae mean I willnae learn.”

“A fine attitude fer a lady. Ye should ken the traditions o’ yer blood, let alone yer clan. Even if ye’re a Lowlander, ye should have made an effort tae ken the traditions o’ yer maither’s clan.” The woman sniffed derisively. “Ye’ll learn… a better attitude fer a child than a woman grown. At least Lady Constance kent her duties tae kith, kin and clan. Aye, and the traditions that belonged tae our people.”