Page 91 of The Refuge

Steinar did not speak the words to Domnall that had been in his heart. “She belongs to me!” he had wanted to shout. But he could not claim a lady the king intended for another.

When the king had called him back for a word, it was to tell Steinar that he was still considering what lady he might give him for a wife and expected to make his decision soon. The conversation that followed left Steinar despairing of hope.

“It will not be the redhead you asked for,” said Malcolm. “Still, I’ve a fine lady in mind.”

“But Sir, ’tis Catrìona I love.”

His face stern, the king shot back, “Love has little to do with raising sons to serve your king.”

Steinar believed the king would quickly dismiss Steinar’s plea from his mind. Thus, he had not claimed her before the despicable Domnall. But he could protect her and vow to always do so. As long as a glimmer of hope remained, as long as she had yet to be betrothed, he would seek her company.

“Do you go in search of Giric?” he asked her when she had calmed.

“Yea,” she said. “I had thought to find him in the village and was on my way there.”

“If it pleases, I would accompany you.” He was not about to leave her alone to be found again by the loathsome Irishman.

She tossed him a smile. “Aye, it would please me.”

They continued down the path that led to the village and she told him of all she had done with Margaret’s permission to improve the cottage where the orphans lived. As she talked, she seemed to shake off the incident at the stables.

“The queen sent some of the Saxons who are skilled in building to repair the cottage so it will be warm for winter. And I have enlisted some of the women to make it more of a home. Margaret gave me the services of a dear woman, Aeleva, who now cares for the orphans. She cooks and keeps house for them. They seem to love her.”

Catrìona’s green eyes sparkled as she spoke. He was glad to see Domnall’s attack did not affect her enthusiasm for what she had done for the orphans. “I expect the queen is delighted,” he said, trying to encourage her.

“I think she is. Margaret believed the village women cared for the orphans and they did, after a fashion. But not like Aeleva does now. She is more a mother to them and the young ones especially need that.”

At the cottage, he and Catrìona stopped to admire the changes. The stones were whitewashed, the shutters new and flowers formed a pretty border on either side of the door. A fair-haired Saxon woman, rosy-cheeked and plump, came out to greet them. “Good day to you, sir, mistress.”

“Good day to you, Aeleva,” said Catrìona. “This is Steinar, one of the king’s men.”

Aeleva curtsied and Steinar wished the woman a good day and then asked, “Is Giric about?”

“Just around the side,” Aeleva said, pointing, “working on the pen for the chickens.”

They found Giric building a reed fence on the far side of the cottage where fat chickens were pecking at seed tossed on the ground by a small girl, younger than Giric. The boy looked up at their appearance and beamed. “Is it not grand?”

“Aye,” said Steinar. “Would you be a builder as well as a warrior?”

“I shall be both!” Giric pronounced, puffing out his small chest. The girl giggled, her fawn-colored curls falling onto her round cheeks.

Steinar laughed at the boy’s audacity but when he thought of all that would be required to make a home in the Vale of Leven, he reconsidered. “Indeed you shall be.”

“If you have the time, oh master builder,” said Catrìona in feigned sarcasm, “I would invite you to go with us to see Kessog. With all that has happened, I have not looked in on him since I returned from St. Andrews. He will be feeling slighted.”

Pounding in a last branch, Giric said, “Aye, I will go! And might there be food in the hall? Mayhap Duncan is there.”

Steinar said, “I’ve no doubt there will be food and”—he winked at Catrìona—“if the lady agrees, we might fly the falcon.”

Giric beamed and waved goodbye to the girl as he hurried to join them.

* * *

Catrìona was glad neither Domnall nor Isla was in the hall as they crossed the large space to the kitchen. Sickened by what he had attempted, she did not want to see either of them.

Sitting on a stool in the kitchen, they found Duncan nibbling on cheese.

“You and the king’s son,” the round-faced cook said to Giric, “are drawing down our reserves of cheese.” With a smile for Catrìona and Steinar, she added, “’Tis regrettable the lads’ stomachs need constant refilling, but ’tis always the way of it.”