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Tyra stripped off her clothes and plunged headfirst into the freezing water. She emerged moments later, shivering, then proceeded to scrub herself with the lavender soap. Her teeth were chattering, but her body became accustomed to the cold as Tyra washed some more. She waded closer to the riverbank and was now waist-deep and rinsing the soap from her skin. It was a secluded spot just downstream from her cottage. It was first light when the weather was coldest, but after a restless night obsessing over Lachlan and that kiss, Tyra needed something like this to wake her up and snap her out of her current mood.
Tyra paused when she heard a rustling sound. She grabbed a large rock from the riverbed and held it tight in her fist. She scanned her surroundings when a pheasant walked out from the shrubbery.
“Stupid bird,” she hissed, then burst out laughing with relief. She dropped the rock, finished her bath, then dried off and changed into her garments behind a hedge of trees.
When she was fully clothed, Tyra felt the odd sensation of being watched. She whipped her head around and pulled her dirk out as she scanned the woods again. But there was nothing. Resigned that it must be in her mind, she quickly headed to the longhouse to prepare breakfast for herself and Iain. It was just the two of them now who remained in the row of white cottages.
Fia and her grandchildren, Mysie, Domhnall, and Michael had moved to the Keep with Bram and Sorcha Henderson. Niall, Bram’s brother moved to the warrior’s quarters, and Willa, Bram’s sister, and Willa’s toddler, Inan, moved to a cottage closer to the Keep. It was a good arrangement as the children spent most of their time with Sorcha and Fia. They were safer in the bosom of the clan than out in the glen.
Tyra preferred the quiet of the glen and now used the longhouse as her healer’s cottage while she lived in the house next door. Iain also chose to remain in his own home, which was a short walk away. He preferred the quiet to noisy Keep life, but he was always on hand whenever Bram needed him.
Iain and Tyra still shared breakfast together in the mornings. It was a tradition Tyra enjoyed as there were few times she had to just talk with her brother. But especially today, she wanted to pry information from Iain about what happened in the hall after she left.
As Tyra neared the longhouse, she could smell a delicious aroma of fresh meat frying on the pan and bread baking. Her stomach grumbled, and she realized she was famished. Tyra was surprised Iain was up so early cooking, but she was too hungry to second guess it. She opened the door with a huge smile, and it died instantly when she realized Iain was not alone.
Tyra clenched her jaw when she saw his companion sitting at the table without a care in the world while Iain prepared the meal over the woodfire.
“Tyra! Tis lovely to see you. We are just about to break our fast,” the woman said.
“What are you doing here, Lìosa?” Tyra asked.
“Dinnae be rude, Tyra.” Iain gave her a warning glare.
Lìosa seemed oblivious to the tension between the siblings. “I am here because I missed my darling, Iain.”
Iain moved to the bench with the hot pan and served up food portions on his prepared trenchers. “Come and eat while it’s still hot. The bread is fresh,” he said, giving Tyra a silent warning to be polite to his on-again-off-again lover.
Tyra begrudgingly stomped towards the table and took a stool on the opposite side. She grabbed a knife and began slicing the bread. “Did you bake this?” she asked Lìosa.
“You ken I dinnae cook. Tis all Iain. He spoils me.” Lìosa gave Iain a sultry smile and kissed his cheek when he sat down to eat.
Iain just blushed and said, “Let me say the grace.”
Tyra bowed her head, and Iain said the blessing. “Lord, thank you for your bountiful provisions and for kin to share a warm meal, Amen.”
“Amen,” Tyra responded. Then she poured them all fresh cider.
Lìosa smirked, “Iain, you are so serious with your prayerful ways. You should have been a monk.”
Iain shrugged and replied, “Tis important to give thanks, Liosa. We never ken when we will eat again. Gratitude keeps us humble.”
“Aye, some of us still ken what it’s like to go without,” Tyra said. Remembering that life under the old laird had been hard on the crofters and clan.
Iain just nodded.
There was silence before they started eating. The food was delicious, but Tyra wished Lìosa Haxton was not there. Liosa was Iain’s childhood sweetheart, and a woman Tyra despised because she knew Iain deserved much better than a woman who came and went without warning.
In an attempt to change the subject, Liosa said, “My love, I thought it would be nice to visit the Keep today. It has been an age since I’ve seen old friends. Mayhap we could wander through the markets afterward. You could get me that keepsake you mentioned?”
“Keepsake?” Tyra asked.
“A silver ring Iain wanted to get me. You remember, Iain?”
“Aye, I remember Liosa. You were not keen on it before. Said it was not to your liking,” Iain replied.
“I said no such thing! I just didnae want you wasting precious coin on me.”
Iain remained silent and kept chewing.
Tyra felt the tension coming from the other side of the table. She asked, “So how long are you here for this time, Lìosa? A sennight? A day? Or will you be hying off to your wealthy merchant once you’ve eaten all our food?”
“Tyra!” Iain growled.
Tyra just resumed eating.
Lìosa replied in a sweet voice, “Tis all right, my love. I ken we are all old acquaintances here. Dinnae be angry with your sister on my behalf, my darling. You are so braw when you get riled.”
Tyra wanted to throw up her breakfast at the sickly display of affection. Not for the first time, she wondered how Iain could continue to favor a woman who was all pretense.
Lìosa turned towards Tyra and answered, “I will be here a sennight to visit with my kin then I have matters in Yorkshire to attend to.”
It was Iain’s turn to tense up. “You didnae tell me that when you arrived.”
“Darling, of course, I did. You were obviously too enamored to pay attention.” Lìosa winked at him.
There was silence between them again.
“What do you have to do in Yorkshire? Mayhap I can accompany you?” Iain asked nonchalantly glancing at Liosa.
Liosa paled slightly then covered it. “Dinnae fash, tis just some kin matter.”
Silence ensued before Iain asked, “Is there a wealthy man waiting for you there?”
“Good lord, Iain, what has gotten into you? You ken I dinnae have anyone else?” Liosa tucked her arm under Iain’s and said, “Darling, tis me, your rùnag?” She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand.
Tyra watched the exchange and noticed something different in Iain’s response. Usually, Lìosa just needed to bat her lashes, and that was enough to appease Iain. But this time, Tyra caught a flash of something else in Iain’s eyes. Irritation. It was a new look for him, an expression he’d never directed towards Lìosa before. Even Liosa seemed surprised by it.
Tyra grinned secretly as she dug into her food with gusto, her appetite returning with the knowledge that there was hope for her brother after all.
***
AFTER BREAKING HER fast, Tyra gathered her wool basket and made her way to the Keep to join the weaving circle for a couple of hours. The women now had a large room where they gathered to treat the wool and weave the plaid. She touched her lips when she remembered Lachlan’s kiss from the previous night. For a brief moment, Lachlan had set aside his disdain for her, and he had kissed her with abandon. Tyra thought it was a languid honeyed kiss, and she was sad it had ended the way it did. She sighed with the knowledge that he would soon be married, and she really had no business kissing betrothed men. Tyra was just moving down the hallway when she saw Lachlan’s bed-chamber door opening. She faltered when she observed a woman slip out of the room. Her heart sank right to the bottom of the sea. To think that she still remembered the searing kiss. Clearly, it was not as memorable for him.
Tyra turned her eyes downcast upon the floor. To think the big lout followed her out of the hall then kissed her senseless only to then fall into the arms of another woman. It was too much to bear. Tyra was angry because Lachlan had accused her of playing games, and yet there he was a mere hours later entertaining his lover. She just shook her head. She was done dreaming about Lachlan like a love-sick fool. Enough was enough.
Tyra continued to the weaving room and put all thoughts of Lachlan out of her mind. When she rounded the corner, she saw Amelia and Beiste MacGregor locked in an intimate embrace. Their faces were inches apart, and they were whispering as lovers do. Tyra envied their relationship. Even after several years of marriage and four boisterous children, the Beast of the Highlands was still besotted with his wife. They were known to tryst in secret places around the Keep and swim together naked in the river when their bairns were abed.
Chieftain Beiste MacGregor was Sorcha Henderson’s brother. His wife Amelia was a reputed healer, and the MacGregors were visiting Henderson Keep so Amelia could provide Sorcha with medical assistance during her pregnancy.
Tyra quietly retraced her steps so as not to disturb the couple. She wondered what it would be like to have a man that devoted to her well-being as Beiste was to Amelia. Her smile disappeared as she contemplated the bleak future ahead. There was no way she would find such a man.
***
TYRA NODDED AT CONNOR, the guardsman, then entered the large room. It was noisy with women chatting as they worked.
“Morning, Tyra,” Fia greeted as several other women followed.
“Good morn, ladies,” she replied and sat down beside Fia to begin her task. She preferred to work quietly and just listen to the gossip as the women chatted continuously around her.
“I heard the MacGregors are leaving soon. I must say I’ll miss the wee ones running aboot the Keep and squealing with laughter,” Blair said. She was a crofter’s wife and one of the regular weavers.
“Aye, they’re a mischievous bunch but good-hearted, especially the older lads. They keep the young-uns in line,” Esme piped in. She was the eldest of all the weavers, and her skill was exceptional.
“Tis the bonnie wee lasses who’ll be keeping their das on their toes for years to come. Just the other day, I caught them climbing the trees trying to shoot things with their bows and arrows,” Blair said.
“I hear they gave Duff Henderson the fright of his life when his hat got knocked clean off his head,” Esme added.
“Were they aiming for his head?” someone asked.
“No, they were aiming for a tree trunk. Duff just happened to walk by at the wrong time and och the blather that went on about how the sidhe tried to attack him in the forest.”
The women burst out laughing.
Blair replied, “Serves him right to be frightened for a change. He is always scaring the bairns about brownies in the woods.”
The women continued chatting.
“I thought the MacGregors were staying until Sorcha’s babe is born?” Tyra whispered to Fia and Willa.
“No, there are matters in Glenorchy the men must attend to. Amelia wanted to stay, but Beiste will not leave his wife behind,” Fia replied.
“Aye, they had a huge row over it last night. I’ve never heard a woman raise her voice to a chieftain before. It was something to behold,” Willa said.
“I take it Beiste won?” Tyra asked.
“Hardly, he did a lot of bellowing himself, then the fighting ceased, and the rutting began,” Willa replied.
“What?” Tyra asked with a scandalized expression.
Willa huddled closer and whispered, “Aye, suddenly nothing but moaning sounds were coming from their chamber, and then this morn, Amelia announced they were leaving soon, but she will return closer to Sorcha’s lying in.” Willa grinned and just shook her head.
Fia chuckled and said, “Amelia won in the end. Twas what she really wanted to begin with.”
Tyra became distracted when the other women started discussing Lachlan.
“That braw one, Lachlan, and his friend Kieran, I hear they are to remain with our clan a wee bit longer. Chieftain MacGregor insists they guard our mistress for an extra year.”
“Lachlan is verra handsome. Do you ken if he is spoken for?” one of the younger women asked.
“Word is, he is aboot to wed a bonnie lass from the village. The laird and mistress ken all about it,” Blair replied.
“Och, tis a pity because I was hoping to warm his bed for the year,” another woman joked as the group burst into a fit of giggles.
“Who is the woman?” Tyra asked.
Blair replied, “Tis a mystery. They have been courting in secret for several months. It must be true love.”
Tyra just paled and refocused on her task, blocking out all the other chatter.
***