Page 19 of The Eagle

“Torac barely speaks to me,” Cait said. “I assured Mister Stuart that I am perfectly capable of traveling back and forth on my own.”

Brice walked closer, his young face stern. “I can walk her to the keep and then meet her upon the end of her day to walk her back home.”

“A horse can be supplied for Cait to travel back and forth. Once she leans to ride, it will make things easier,” Stuart insisted giving her a pointed look.

“We cannot afford to feed and care for the laird’s horse,” her mother said with a worried expression. “Mister Stuart, ye must understand . . . we have meager means. Cait provides what we have.”

Cait wanted to tell her mother to stop speaking, but she bit her bottom lip. It wasn’t as if her mother lied.

“That is true, we could not afford the feed. I do thank ye for the offer; however, as I said before, I must decline,” Cait told him.

“I am sure something can be done to keep ye from harm.” He looked to the cottage and then met her brother’s gaze. “Ye do good work. The cottage looks much better than the last time I saw it.”

Her brother beamed with pride. The two walked to the back so that Brice could show Stuart where he was adding a room.

“What is he expecting in return for all of this attention?” her mother whispered. “Did he make any untoward advances?”

Cait shook her head. “No, Mother. I would have jumped from the horse, and we would have left immediately if something like that had happened.”

Her mother gave her a sad look. “And where would we go child?”

“I would find a way for us,” Cait replied with much more resolution than she felt. The resignation in her mother’s face told her that if one of the Ross brothers ever decided to take her, it would probably be something she’d not have any choice but to accept.

“I am assured more and more each day that they are good and decent people,” she finally said as Stuart came from behind the house.

He gave them a nod, then mounted and rode away. Once again whistling the strange two tones.

Turning away and heading for the house, she and her mother went straight to the kitchen. From the knapsack, she took out the leftover duck and a pair of turnips she’d taken from the garden with Greer’s permission. After chopping the turnips and the duck meat, it was all put into a pot of water boiling over the fire. Along with bread her mother had baked earlier in the day, it would be a simple meal as always, but thankfully, they’d be quite full.

The next morning Cait did not go to the keep. Greer had given her two days’ rest, which she was extremely grateful for. There was clothing to mend and wash, and she wanted to spend some time taking in a dress and underskirts that she’d gotten when Lady Ross had offered a pile of clothes for the maids to choose from.

Her mother studied her while she swept the floors. “If ye married, then I would have less to worry about.”

Cait stopped mid-sweep. “Who would ye have me marry Mother?”

“I know there are plenty of guardsmen at the keep. One or two have surely taken yer attention.”

In truth, she’d been much too busy to pay attention to any men. Between her duties in the kitchen and serving in the great hall—not to mention her long treks back and forth from home to the keep to home again—there was little time for frivolity.

She’d never admit to her mother how tired she was most days and what little amount of time there was to even consider things like courtship. There was a maid or two that she’d noted had relationships, but she’d not been at the keep long enough to keep up with who was with whom.

“Consider it,” her mother continued. “Then ye and he could ride home together and the men at the keep would stay at arm’s length. Even the roguish ones will stay away from a married lass. Ye are much too pretty not to be protected.”

Cait laughed. “Truly Mother, ye should not fret over it. We will be well. I have two brothers to ensure it.”

“Once we save enough for a mule and I build a cart, I can take ye to the keep in the mornings and retrieve ye after,” Brice interjected. “Though I do hope we get a horse,” he added wistfully.

Their mother gave him a pointed look. “Do not go making such plans,” she said. “We cannot possibly accept it. How would we feed it?”

“It is true, we cannot accept such a gift,” Cait interjected. “I am truly sorry Brice, I know ye wish to work. Ye are too young to seek labor yet. We need ye here for now.”

Her brother shrugged good-naturedly. “I have plenty to keep me busy here.”

She considered her conversation with Stuart Ross about her brother. “What would ye like to do one day. If given the choice?”

“Work in the stables. And one day have my own corral full of horses,” Brice replied without hesitation. “Ye could accept the horse. I will find ways to feed it. I wish to learn about them.”

When he gave her one of his wistful looks, it was hard to resist. “Perhaps when ye get older, ye can work at the stables. Then we can ask to live at the keep.” Changing the subject, she smiled at him. “For now, I’ll see if I can borrow a cart and mule so we can venture to the village.”