In that moment, she was intensely glad to see the other lass. The isolation of Graeme’s chamber was overwhelming and yet she lacked the courage to go below stairs on her own. The looks from Graeme’s kin were still fresh in her mind.
“Good morn, Eveline,” Rorie said.
She smiled hesitantly at Eveline as she spoke, and Eveline smiled back, wanting to encourage any conversation Rorie might strike up.
“So, are you planning to stay above stairs all day?” Rorie asked.
Eveline frowned, uncertain of the point of the question.
“Graeme thought you might be hungry. You had little to eat yesterday.”
Eveline gave a slight nod.
Rorie’s eyes gleamed as she seated herself in the chair opposite the bench Eveline was perched on.
“The women are wagering whether or not you’ll be brave enough to show your face outside of your chamber.”
Eveline blinked in surprise, and then her brows came together as she stared back at Rorie. What was Rorie’s purpose? Was she trying to anger Eveline? Upset her? Remind her of her tenuous position in her new clan?
“I’m sure they wouldn’t expect you to boldly march down and demand something to eat,” Rorie continued on, seemingly unbothered by Eveline’s reaction. “It might be amusing to see the expressions of their faces were you to do so.”
Eveline’s lips twitched, and then they rose upward in a smile. Rorie was obviously a mischievous sort. It was likely why she’d aided Eveline yesterday in moving her belongings to Graeme’s chamber.
Then she simply nodded once.
Rorie grinned. “Then come on. No sense hiding away up here when there’s mischief to be had below.”
Eveline hastily tied the end of her braid with a leather strip and rose to follow Rorie from the room.
When they entered the hall, the women were clearing away the remnants of the morning meal. Two were sweeping the floors while others pushed away the furs over the windows to allow the light and warmth from the sun inside.
Everything came to an abrupt halt the moment Eveline was spotted. Rorie continued forward and Eveline followed. Rorie said something that the women had no liking for. One scowled openly at Eveline and said, “If she’s wanting to eat, then she should be about when the rest of the keep is.”
Eveline stared back, refusing to be cowed by this unpleasant woman.
Rorie motioned the woman away and then turned back to Eveline. “Come and sit so you can eat.”
Eveline glanced at the tables and then up to the high table on the dais, much like the one back home. Her eyes narrowed, and then she marched forward. She was the chieftain’s wife and she would sit at the high table.
She made sure she sat on the side where she could face the rest of the room. She wanted to be able to see what was being said. Rorie settled across from her, a wide grin on her face.
“I like your spirit. Bold move. But a good idea. Show them early on that they can’t bully you. The women of our clan can be quite headstrong. They’re loyal, mind you, but they’re rather fierce in their opinions. ’Tis often said that Graeme is laird, but the women run the keep.”
Eveline’s eyebrows arched upward. Surely Rorie was jesting.
“Not that Graeme would ever admit such a thing,” Rorie added, still grinning. “But they’re an intimidating lot. Some like me, and some don’t.”
Eveline studied Rorie for a long moment. Here, too, was a lass who was likely underestimated. She had a frail, almost boyish appearance and yet she was impudent and struck Eveline as someone who was extremely quick-witted and intelligent.
Then she glanced over Rorie’s shoulder because she could see the women conversing. One holding a broom was only making a pretense of sweeping as she spoke with one of the women who’d been clearing a table.
It was hard for Eveline to follow, but she caught enough of the words to know she was the topic of conversation. The usual words were thrown about. Daft. Addled. Touched. She winced when she saw “stupid,” “arrogant,” and “Armstrong trash” added to the mix.
Anger tightened her jaw. Her first instinct was to defend herself, which was absurd given the fact that she’d spent the last three years allowing people to think of her what they liked, and she’d done nothing at all to correct their assumptions. Beliefs that she’d purposely fed.
But it hurt more coming from these people. They didn’t know her. They judged her solely on the fact that she was an Armstrong. Her clan was worth ten of them and the women of her keep weren’t as lazy.
The woman who’d sniped at Eveline about eating sooner stalked toward the table and rudely plunked down Eveline’s serving of bread and cheese. She shot Eveline a disgruntled look and then turned and walked away. The woman hadn’t brought anything for Eveline to drink, and Eveline wasn’t going to risk a confrontation over it. She could make do without.
Eveline nibbled at the bread. It was quite good and someone had taken the effort to warm it a bit or perhaps it had been stored close to a heat source in the kitchen. At any rate, it was soft and tasted wonderful.
“Would you like a tour of the keep after you’ve eaten?” Rorie asked.
Eveline pursed her lips in thought, suddenly nervous about taking that direct an approach. It had consumed most of her courage just to come down to the hall to eat.
“Not scared, are you?” Rorie said with that gleam in her eye.
Eveline frowned and curled her lip, letting Rorie know what she thought of her baiting. But it had the effect Rorie obviously wanted because there was no way Eveline would refuse now. She wasn’t going to let a bunch of Montgomerys back her down and force her into hiding.
She was a chieftain’s daughter and now a chieftain’s wife. That counted for something, didn’t it? She may not be a mighty warrior, but one thing she’d learned after observing her mother, was that if anything could fell a warrior, it was a determined woman.
Rorie sent her a satisfied smile and then sat back to wait as Eveline finished eating.
When Eveline was done she sent a pointed glance at Rorie and then rose, taking the initiative and stepping around the table, past Rorie, so she was in the lead and not cowering behind her sister-in-law.
Chin up, she walked down the middle of the hall, boldly meeting the stares of the other women as she passed. At the end, a dark-haired woman stepped into her path, and Eveline had to pull up short to keep from plowing into her.
The woman was pretty enough. Younger perhaps than the other women who’d been working in the hall. Her green eyes would be pretty if they weren’t full of cold malice. She eyed Eveline with open hostility, her nostrils flaring almost as if she were challenging Eveline.
“Armstrong bitch.”
The words were formed on the woman’s lips with such clarity that there was no possibility of Eveline mistaking them. The woman’s daring took Eveline aback and she stared agape.
Rorie pushed in front of Eveline before Eveline could react. She was turned just enough that Eveline could see what she said.
“The only bitch here is you, Kierstan,” Rorie said, her features drawn tight with anger. “Back off or I’ll tell Graeme that you’re maligning his wife.”
Kierstan’s face twisted in disgust, but she turned and walked away, leaving Rorie and Eveline standing there. Rorie turned to Eveline and smiled.
“There now. That’s out of the way. Shall we proceed with the tour?”
CHAPTER 15
Graeme was aware that Rorie was taking Eveline around the keep because he’d been told by no fewer than a dozen clansmen. They acted as though he should lock Eveline in his chamber and keep her there at all times.
He understood their hatred for the Armstrongs because it was a hatred he shared. But he didn’t understand their willingness to extend that hatred to an innocent woman. He couldn’t say he was surprised by it, but he didn’t understand it.
By the time the next person happened along to inform Graeme that his Armstrong wife was walking around Montgomery land as if she belonged, Graeme’s patience was wearing thin.
“She does belong,” he roared, startling the older man with the force of his bellow.
He turned in a half circle so that everyone within hearing would know of his displeasure.
“ ’Tis enough! The king has decreed this marriage and there is naught to be done about it. Stop acting as sulky children and cease making an innocent woman suffer for something she has no knowledge of. You should all be shamed by your actions.”
Bowen frowned from a short distance away where he was instructing a group of young lads in the use of bows and arrows. He shoved the fistful of arrows at one of the boys and then turned to walk in Graeme’s direction.
“You can’t ignore what this does to them,” Bowen clipped out as he drew near. “You expect them to just accept it and forget all that has happened in the past, as you have done. You expect too much, Graeme.”
Graeme faced his brother down, anger crawling up his neck. “You dare tell me that I’ve forgotten the past? You dare speak to me of what I should expect?”
With each word, his fury grew until he was a seething cauldron of rage. He took a step toward Bowen and met his brother’s gaze unflinchingly.
“If you disagree with my handling of the situation, then perhaps you should challenge me for the title of chieftain.”
Bowen’s eyes widened. “ ’Tis not what I’m saying or doing at all!”
“You are either loyal to me and support me or you challenge me. ’Tis your choice,” Graeme bit out.
“You know I support you,” Bowen said in a quieter voice.
“Nay, I do not know. If you supported me, you would cede to my wishes regarding Eveline. You would not sit idly by while your clansmen disparage her. What would Da think, Bowen? Think you that he would condone the treatment of an innocent this way? He was a fair and just man. He’d never allow a Montgomery to be discourteous to Eveline regardless of her parentage.”
Bowen had the grace to look abashed. “Aye, you’re right, Graeme. I’m sorry. Da would have taken her under his wing and spit in the eye of anyone who had a single cross word for her.”
He turned away and then gripped the back of his neck with his hand. When he looked again at Graeme, there was clear frustration in his eyes.
“I’m just angry. We all are. We’ve no desire for peace with the Armstrongs. It would be just as well if we could rid the earth of their presence entirely. The king has turned us into women, effectively tying our hands, and he’s saddled us with a constant reminder of all that we hate and all that we cannot do now.”
Graeme let go of the tight irritation that bound his chest. “I know it well, Bowen. Think you I have any more liking for the situation than you do? Than any other member of my clan? The king has robbed me of vengeance for my father’s death. ’Tis not something I let go of lightly. But I cannot bring myself to make a wee lass suffer when none of this was her doing. I must be fair and just because it’s my duty as chieftain to be fair and just. How can I expect to be a leader to my clan when I mete out injustice on the innocent?”
“ ’Tis why you are the laird and I am not, nor do I ever wish to challenge your right to be laird,” Bowen said in a somber voice. “You’re much like Da. He would be proud. I don’t have your sense of justice, because all that runs through my veins is hatred for those who brought suffering to our clan. And to me.”
Before Graeme could respond, Bowen turned and walked away. He went past the group of lads who were awaiting instruction and continued until he was out of sight. He’d go riding as he was often wont to do. Of all the Montgomery sons, Bowen had been the closest to their father.
Graeme’s relationship with Robert Montgomery had always been different. It had to be. He was Robert’s heir and he had to learn his duties to his clan at a very young age. With Bowen, however, his father relaxed more. He was more patient with Bowen and they both loved horses. Graeme didn’t resent their relationship. He accepted it as he accepted all else in his life. It simply was.
Bowen was more passionate. About everything. Every emotion was keenly felt. He’d been grief-stricken when their father had been killed, and it had taken Graeme and Teague forcibly restraining him to prevent him from attacking the Armstrongs on his own.
He’d vowed vengeance, and now that it had been taken from him, his instinct was to lash out. Unfortunately, Eveline was an easy target. She was an Armstrong. She stood for everything that Bowen most hated.
Graeme sighed and rubbed his forehead. What a complete mess the situation had become. The king’s solution was no solution at all. It was a paltry bandage on a wound that needed sealing with a hot knife.
He ran his hand over his hair and down the back of his neck, turning sideways as he did. To his surprise, Eveline stood a short distance away, worry darkening her eyes. Had she heard the exchange? He glanced after his brother, cursing the fact that their disagreement had been aired so publicly.