Joan's eyes widened with surprise at the kind suggestion. "Thank you--"
"Garia," the girl said when she paused uncertainly. "Me name is Garia MacCormick."
"Well, I thank you, Garia," she said quietly. "I appreciate your kindness."
Garia shrugged. "You have been through much losing your soldiers and servants and all your clothes to the bandits. If I can make things a little easier fer ye, I'm happy to." Turning then, she opened the door for her and pushed it wide. "Now, why do you not go and break yer fast. I'll go talk to the girls about sewing some gowns."
"Thank you," Joan murmured again as she slipped past her into the room. "I really do appreciate it, especially since you came here in the hopes of marrying Cam and I rather ruined that for everyone."
" 'Tis me pleasure." Garia assured her and then grinned. "I never expected to win Cam anyway with all these lovely ladies to compete with. At least this way, I will have made a friend, and friends are oftentimes more valuable than gold, do ye no' think?"
"Aye, I do," Joan said solemnly.
Garia nodded. "I'll come back later and let ye ken what the other girls said," she promised, then pulled the door closed, leaving Joan alone.
CAM GLANCED AROUND THE GREAT HALL AS HE hurried inside, but other than servants going about their business, the room was empty. He'd expected as much, however, and continued to the stairs and up to the solar, expecting Joan to be there with the other ladies.
Women's voices raised in argument made him slow as he approached, though, and he paused in the hall just out of view to listen when he heard his name and Joan's mentioned.
"Why the devil would we help sew gowns for the little peasant Campbell has brought home? 'Twill no' benefit us."
Cam didn't need to see who was speaking to know it was Finola MacFarland. The widow had expected to inherit her very old husband's wealth and castle on his death, but he'd willed it all to his brother's son instead. Just to add insult to injury, the MacFarland had requested his will be read before all on his death and in it had listed her many infidelities during their marriage as the reason why his nephew gained all and she received nothing. She'd been a selfish, careless wench before that, but had become a bitter, coldhearted bitch since. Her attitude now surprised him not at all.
"The poor girl lost everything on the journey north thanks to those bandits," someone argued earnestly, and Cam shifted closer to peer around the door and into the room to see that only the prospective brides were present and the speaker was a petite redhead he didn't know. "Besides, 'tis no' as if we have anything better to do. 'Twould help pass the time until our families send traveling parties for us and 'twould help her at the same time. She seems nice and really needs our help."
"Do no' be a fool, Garia," Finola snapped with disgust. "O' course she's nice. She's a peasant being allowed to sit at the nobles' table. She's so grateful she'd probably lick yer boots. But mark me words, she'll no' last long. She does no' e'en ken enough not to sit at the low table. Campbell'll tire o' her quickly and toss her aside."
"They are married, Finola," Garia said quietly. "He can no' set her aside."
"Aye, he can," Finola said sounding triumphant. "Her father was a common stable master, her mother a murderer and thief. All he has to do is claim he kenned none of that and the wedding can be set aside."
Cam stiffened and scowled at the woman's words, wondering how she'd learned about Joan's mother and father. But then, the tale had been a subject of gossip at the time and told by the hearth for many years afterward. He had known about Annabel's sister, after all, so why shouldn't Finola? Actually, many knew the story and he had no doubt the gossipmongers would stir the story back to life now that Joan had made an appearance and married him. He would have to see to it that she did not hear and was not hurt by it though.
"I'm sure Cam would not set her aside," Garia said earnestly. "They love each other. Ye can see it in the way they look at each other."
Cam blinked at that. Was Garia seeing love between them? Was there love between them? He wasn't sure about his own feelings. He knew he hadn't wanted to lose her at the end of their journey, that he'd wanted what they had to continue. But Joan hadn't, and yet Ross MacKay had said that his wife thought Joan loved him.
"Love!" Finola spat the word as if it tasted bitter in her mouth. "What could he possibly love about her? She's a commoner. No education, no skills and with precious little to talk to him about, I'm sure."
Actually, they'd talked often and long during their journey here, Cam thought. Joan might not have been educated in the way a noblewoman would have been, but she was intelligent just the same, and while he had thought her a boy when they'd first chatted by the fire at night, their talks had continued after he'd learned she was a woman. It was how they'd passed the time while traveling, and by the fire at night while recovering in each other's arms, and as they'd broken their fast in the mornings. They'd talked quite a bit.
"Nay. What yer seeing in their eyes is lust, and that ne'er lasts long. He'll tire o' her quickly, and then he will set her aside," Finola said with certainty. "All I have to do is bide me time and wait for that day."
"Well, ye can bide yer time all ye want," Garia said quietly. "Howbeit I am going to sew."
"Aye, but then ye would, ye're a fool," Finola said dryly.
Cam turned on his heel and moved silently away, unwilling to listen to any more of the woman's venom. Sadly, there was little he could do to keep her from espousing her nonsense. He could have made his presence known and silenced her for now, but the moment he'd left, she'd no doubt have started back in. The best thing to do was ignore it and hope her people arrived quickly to take her away. Although, frankly, it might be worth it to arrange for half a dozen Sinclair soldiers to escort her home now, he thought, and then glanced over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps pattering quickly up the hall behind him. Cam hesitated, but then paused when he recognized Garia.
"Oh, m'laird." She smiled at him uncertainly, her footsteps slowing as she reached him. "If ye're looking fer Lady Joan, she's in yer room with her aunt and cousins. I was jest heading that way meself to tell her the good news."
"Good news?" he queried.
"Aye, I talked to the other ladies, and all but one want to help and start on some gowns fer her while we're here," she said, beaming happily.
Cam didn't have to ask who the one unwilling to help was. "Thank ye, Garia. Fer championing me wife and convincing the women to help like this. I do appreciate it."
"Oh, 'tis nothing, m'laird. I'm happy to help Joan. She seems lovely, and I'm happy the two o' ye found each other," she assured him with a smile. "Now I should go tell her the good news and take her measurements so we can get started."
"Oh, aye, o' course," Cam murmured, a small frown pulling at his lips.
"Is something amiss, m'laird?" Garia asked uncertainly.
"Nay, nay," he muttered and then forced a smile. "I was just going to take Joan out and teach her to--" He paused abruptly. He'd planned to use the excuse of teaching her to ride to get Joan away from the keep and get her alone for some houghmagandie. But he didn't want to mention teaching Joan to ride to Garia. She would wonder why a noblewoman had to be taught to ride. Shaking his head, he urged her to continue walking and said instead, "I was just going to suggest a ride to her. But it can wait. Measuring her for the gowns is more important."
"Oh," Garia said with a small frown as they continued down the hall. "Are ye certain? We could always wait to start and--"
"Nay," Cam interrupted quickly. "She's in desperate need o' gowns. I can take her fer a ride anytime."
"All right," Garia murmured as they stopped at the door. "If ye're sure?"
"Aye," he said and raised a hand to knock at the door for her only to have it open before he could.
"Oh!" The maid who had opened the door smiled nervously from him to Garia. "I was jest tidying the room while 'tis empty."
"Empty?" Cam asked, glancing past her to see that the room
was indeed empty. "Where is me wife?"
"She went down to the bailey with her aunt and cousins. I believe they were going to practice their archery," the maid said.
Practice archery? Cam suspected Joan had never even seen a bow before, but merely nodded. "Thank ye."
When the maid nodded and slid past them to head downstairs, he turned to Garia and smiled. "Why do ye no' go on back to the solar? I shall find Joan and send her in to you ladies."
Nodding, Garia turned and hurried away. Cam watched until she slipped back into the solar, and then headed downstairs, wondering where the ladies might have gone for this practice. He doubted it would be in the practice area with the men. In fact, he suspected it would be somewhere no one was likely to see them and realize Joan didn't know an arrowhead from the fletching.
Chapter 12
"NOW, AIM FER THE TARGET, BREATHE OUT and release," Lady Annabel instructed.
Nodding, Joan squinted at the target, took in a deep breath, released it and let loose the arrow. She then sagged with disappointment as it sputtered and fell to the ground just feet in front of her.
" 'Tis all right," her aunt said and patted her shoulder. "You just need to pull further back on the bow. Come try again."
Sighing, Joan notched another arrow, took a deep breath, pulled the arrow back and let it loose even as she released her breath. This time she did much better. The arrow flew high and far. It didn't hit the target, however, instead landing in the dirt ten feet to the right of the target and just inches from her approaching husband's feet.
"Oh dear," she and Annabel breathed together as he stopped short and stared down at the arrow.
Joan lowered the bow and bit her lip as she watched Cam pick up the arrow and continue toward them. "I'm sorry, husband. I--"
" 'Tis me own fault," he interrupted. "I ken better than to approach a target from behind. I just did no' ken ye'd set up a target here in the back courtyard to practice with," he said wryly. "I should ha'e. The maid said ye'd gone out to practice archery after all, but that was over an hour ago--"
"Ye've been looking for us for an hour?" Kenna asked with wide eyes.
"Aye. This was the very last place I thought to look," he admitted. "And when I did no' find ye in the practice field I thought perhaps ye'd changed yer mind about the archery, but I should ha'e approached more carefully anyway."