Lucy Monroe - Moon Craving

Guaire came to visit Abigail twice a day, but they were never left alone, which propriety might dictate, but she didn’t like because it wasn’t her virtue Talorc, Niall and Barr were protecting. It was their secrets.

The third morning, Abigail insisted on going to the great hall to break her fast with Talorc and the other soldiers.

Una expressed her concern for Abigail’s health, but Abigail was in no mood to play happy families with the widow after her cold treatment and attempts to undermine Abigail’s authority with the other clan members who served in the tower. She simply pretended not to notice the woman speaking to her.

The red that covered Una’s cheeks said she knew Abigail had not answered on purpose, but she did not attempt to speak to her laird’s wife again.

“What was that all about?” Guaire asked while Talorc and Barr were busy planning their day with the soldiers. “I thought you were trying to win her over.”

“I’ve given up.” For now anyway. “I just don’t have the good humor to deal with her right now.”

“She had her hopes of ending her widowed status with Talorc before the king’s edict.”

That might explain Una’s initial coldness, but it did not excuse it. “She said she had been housekeeper for three years. If Talorc had been interested, he would have shown it before now.”

“No doubt.” Guaire frowned, looking sad and defeated. “She’s set her sights on a different warrior now.”

“Niall?” Abigail asked intuitively.

“Yes.”

Abigail squeezed his hand in silent commiseration.

Guaire’s eyes widened and then he mouthed a thank-you before squeezing her hand back.

Niall crossed his arms, drawing Abigail’s attention. “If you two are finished holding hands, perhaps you would care to see to your duties, Seneschal.”

It looked like she wasn’t the only grumpy one around here this morning.

Guaire’s expression turned dourer. “I am going to the blacksmith’s to check the progress on the tools our clan will take for trade to the gathering. Would you like to come?”

“Yes. I want to tell Magnus thank you for the gardening tool he made for me.”

Talorc touched her ear and the familiar gesture combined with the distance she created between them made her wish for something different. She turned her head to face him.

He slid a concerned glance between her and Guaire. “Perhaps you should rest another day.” Obviously, he was still worried the seneschal would tell her Talorc’s secrets.

If his concern had been for her health, she would have listened, but as it was, his worry about Guaire telling her what she already knew only made her more determined to accompany him. “I am bruised, not broken. The walk will do me good.”

“Do you think he will tell her?” Talorc asked Niall.

“He said he wouldn’t. I have never known Guaire to break his word.”

“Nor have I.” But he couldn’t help worrying. Talorc needed to be the one to tell Abigail of his true Chrechte nature, but he had realized when it became clear Guaire was aware of the Chrechte’s biggest secret, that if Talorc did not do so soon, she might find out another way.

“Would her sister have told her, do you think?” Barr asked.

“That is far more likely, but if she had done so, I think Abigail would have confronted me with the truth.”

Niall snorted. “Or Emily would have when she realized you’d kept her beloved sister in the dark about your wolf.”

“She has never been shy about speaking her mind.”

“I remember,” Barr said with a grin.

“The whole clan remembers her likening me to a goat.”

On the way to the lower bailey, Abigail made sure no one else was around before asking Guaire, “You love him, don’t you?”

Guaire did not ask who she meant or try to pretend he did not know what she was talking about. He simply gave a defeated sigh and said, “Yes.”

“I thought as much.”

“I have loved him all my life. I do not remember when I realized I wanted to kiss him, to touch him as a lover. I only know that I have never wanted another.”

“You’ve never found another man or woman attractive?”

Guaire blushed. “I find many warriors attractive, but the only one who makes me wish to act on those feelings is Niall. I want him so much, I tremble with it. One day, he is bound to notice. And then he will probably kill me.”

“Because you are a man?”

“Nay, matings within the Chrechte can be between two men or two women. It does not happen often, but enough that they recognize God’s blessing on such love. Niall would be furious to find out how much I love him because I am not Chrechte. He thinks I am weak because—” Abruptly, Guaire stopped talking.

“Because you do not have a wolf nature like he does,” she finished for him. “Emily told me the truth of the Chrechte when she was here.”

“Talorc believes you are still ignorant.”

“I know.” It was her turn to feel defeated.

“He is slow to trust, but it will come one day.”

“When I am old and gray, perhaps.” Abigail sighed. “Tell me more about Niall.”

“You do not find my love an abomination?” Guaire asked with a puzzled frown.

“Of course not.”

“But the Church teaches it is so. We are not so worried about Rome’s edicts here, but I have always been led to believe the English follow her religious edicts without question.”

“Some do, some don’t.” Abigail shrugged. “The Church also teaches that women are last in God’s love, even after animals of burden.”

Guaire’s eyes widened in surprise. “Our priest would never be foolish enough to say such a thing.”

“Your clanswomen are fierce.”

“Nay, ’tis our warriors that would chase him from our lands for such idiocy.”

Abigail smiled. “The Church also teaches a husband has not only the right, but the responsibility to beat his wife.”

“Now I know you are joshing me. Not even England’s Church would say such a terrible thing.”

Abigail wanted to cry at his innocence. “It is the truth. The abbess says that when the Church teaches abuse or hatred, we must consider it carefully in light of Christ’s claim that to love God is the greatest commandment and to love others the second greatest, all other laws and prophecies hang on these two.”

“Your abbess sounds like a wise woman.”

“She is. I do not believe love an abomination any more than I believe God loves me less than my father’s oxen.”

“Me either. But my love is hopeless.”

“Are you sure?” It seemed to her that Niall had strong feelings for Guaire, but she did not know if they were love. So, she did not speculate and raise Guaire’s hopes.

“Aye, especially since Una started focusing her attention on Niall.”

“He is not attracted to men as you are?”

“I do not know. The Chrechte of our clan are not sexually promiscuous, but Una is a beautiful woman. And ’tis rare enough for a Chrechte warrior to mate with a human, even more so with a male human.”

“Una may be beautiful, but she’s not nice.”

“She’s annoying to be sure,” Guaire agreed with more vehemence than he might have before the other woman had begun flirting with Niall.

As they came off the path from the motte to the bailey, a pair of soldiers approached them. One wore Sinclair colors, but Abigail did not recognize the colors on the other man’s clothing.

After they passed her and Guaire, she turned to the seneschal. “Who was that?”

“A messenger from the king.” Guaire had already turned, and tugging Abigail’s hand, he retraced their steps up the hill.

The two soldiers were only a few feet ahead of them, so Abigail refrained from asking Guaire to speculate why a messenger from Scotland’s king should be at the Sinclair holding.

When they reached the great hall, she grabbed Guaire’s arm. “Wait,” she whispered.

He gave her a questioning glance.

“Enter quietly.”

“We’d have to be quieter than a spider crawling across the floor for the Chrechte not to notice we are there.”

“We can go in the entrance Una uses from the kitchens.” She bit her lip, wondering if Guaire would think her awful for wanting to eavesdrop.

“The smell of food will mask our scents.”

“Just so.” She grinned.

Guaire winked.

They rushed around the tower to the kitchens, ignoring Una as they walked through her domain. Though Abigail spared a smile for the two women helping to knead bread for that evening’s meal.

Unable to hear if she made sound, Abigail stepped as lightly as she could. Guaire stuck close. They reached the entranceway when Guaire held her back.

“We dare not go any farther,” he mouthed.

“Can you hear them?” she asked in a barely there whisper.

“Nay, but you can see the messenger’s face.”

She nodded and turned her attention to the king’s soldier.

“The king was most concerned when he learned of the trick the English baron paid on his favored laird.”

The trick? Did that mean Scotland’s king had learned Sir Hamilton had sent his deaf stepdaughter to Scotland as bride to Talorc? How could he know?

The image of Jolenta’s envious countenance swam before Abigail. Her younger sister had been furious such a personage as a laird was wasted on Abigail. What would Talorc do now that the king knew?

She could not tell what her husband said to the messenger, but the man nodded. “Our king has heard your complaint. He will arrange to have your current marriage annulled on the grounds of deception. One way or another, the deaf woman will be taken care of. Sir Hamilton’s daughter Jolenta will be sent north to replace her sister. It has already been arranged.”