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‘T’was everything to us. I heard you delivered him from certain death, and my clan and I are indebted to you. Here at Dunslair, you shall have every care.’
‘I am already well taken care of Laird. Monnine has been very kind.’
‘It is her nature to be kind. How do you fare today, Monnine?’
‘I am well, Laird.’
‘Good, good, but let us not be formal here. Have I not told you to call me Rory?’ He smiled at her admiringly, but Monnine looked at her feet. There was a sort of need on his handsome face. Though older than them both, he was obviously used to a hard life as his body was well-muscled and lean. Rory Mor had a dependable, solid sort of presence, an air of certainty and authority about him, in spite of his jovial demeanour. Kenna was struck by his eyes. They were the same crisp blue as the sky, and his mouth was very fine but set in a grim line as Monnine continued to avoid looking at him.
He passed pleasantries with them for a few minutes, but though he was addressing her, Kenna noticed that his eyes flicked over to Monnine constantly. She, in turn, seemed struck dumb by his presence and, apart from a nod or a murmur, said next to nothing. Did she not like him? How could she not, for he was all ease and friendliness, and he seemed to be a kind man?
Rory eventually went on his way, and Monnine turned and watched him until he was out of sight.
‘Do you not like him, Monnine? It is clear he likes you, for he could not take his eyes off you.’
‘I like him very much, Kenna. Rory saved my life.’
‘So why didn’t you talk to him? You acted like you were frightened.’
‘I’m not frightened of him. I am frightened of how he makes me feel.’
‘And how is that?’
‘Desired, he makes me feel desired, wanted, and he makes me want him in return.’
‘And why is that so bad? He is an attractive man, is he not?’
‘Aye, he is,’ said Monnine softly, ‘very attractive. But he is too good for the likes of me, Kenna and besides, I am done with men.’
‘But…’
‘Please don’t talk of him again.’ Monnine shot her a look that would brook no argument.
If Monnine had secrets, it was not Kenna’s place to pry, so she said nothing more. They passed several people as they made their way back to the kitchen and received smiles and nods in greeting. Monnine seemed to avoid most of the men but was greeted warmly by the women. Kenna wondered where Conall was. She longed to see him. She wondered what he would make of her in this fine dress. He would probably just laugh at her vanity.
When they got to the kitchens, Kenna offered to help the cook, who was sweating over a mutton roast before the vast fireplace, but all she got was, ‘Oh, that’s kind of you lass, but you’re not to lift a finger, orders of young Conall.’ Then Monnine insisted she sit down and rest. All this cossetting was too much. It was suffocating. The Campbells seemed determined to treat her like a helpless child with no brain in her head or mind of her own. She grew tired of watching other people come and go.
‘Monnine, I am off back to my chamber for a nap,’ she said.
‘Aye, that will do you good. Do you remember the way?’
‘I think I can work it out by myself.’
Kenna wasn’t entirely sure that was the case, but she wanted to find Conall. Why did he not seek her out? He had been absent all day, and she so longed to see him, for him to reassure her that she was welcome in his home.
She followed the corridors along for some time, then came to a dead-end and backtracked. No, this was not right. These walls did not look familiar. She headed up a narrow winding staircase hoping to get a view, to get her bearings. Emerging onto a narrow walkway, circling around the keep, she looked out, and the view made her catch her breath. Snow-capped mountains in the distance were brilliant in the sunshine, and the loch shone at their feet, like silver, the reeds at its side stiff and pale after winter’s frosts.
She looked around the yard and spotted Conall down below, talking to a group of young men and women, his friends most likely as he was laughing and at ease with them. One of the women, Kenna recognised as the unfriendly-looking one from the hall. She leant in and placed her hand on Conall’s arm. Must she paw him like that? Did he not find it irritating? He did not seem to notice and as Kenna watched, the girl repeated the action now and then in an overly-friendly manner. The group broke apart, and as she departed, the girl went on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. He seemed to shake his head at her, but Kenna could not see if it was with disapproval or not.
Whirling around in irritation, Kenna took the stairs back down. If he was going to ignore her to spend time with that doxy, then she would know why. At the bottom of the stairs, she again must have taken a wrong turn, for she found herself going downwards and not out into the yard. Eventually, she ended up in a cellar of sorts, full of barrels and sacks of foodstuff. It was deathly quiet, and a strange unease crept upon her. She could have sworn she heard a soft footfall behind her. No, she must be imagining it. But maybe Dunslair had dark, secret places like Sgathach Dun, places that made the hair suddenly stand up on the back of your neck. Which way was she to go? Oh, these blasted shoes were hurting so much.
‘Lost are we?’ The voice made her jump as a man emerged from the shadows. She recognised him as the young man who had smiled at her yesterday in the hall, and he was smiling now. ‘You are Kenna?’
‘Yes, and you are?’
‘Meyrick Campbell, at your service. If you need help finding your way, you can follow me out if you like. I promise I am trustworthy. I won’t lead you into danger.’
He winked at her in a cheeky way, and she had no other choice but to follow.
