Page 61 of The Highlander's Pirate Bride

Ranald looked up, recognition dawning in his eyes. He laughed. “Ye rascal. I heard ye were gone. Captured. A prisoner of that filth Andrew Sutherland.”

Maxwell turned to Aileen. “This is the man who taught me to sail.”

“And I was the man who told the wee devil never to venture too far. He’s been ignoring all me words ever since.” He stepped forward and slapped his hand on Maxwell’s shoulder and turned to the other two guards who were watching this in puzzlement.

“This is the laird’s wee brother. Ye’ve nay need tae puzzle over this. He’s been gone many months and we see him at home only on rare occasions.”

He grew serious. “Word came that ye’d been taken to the east coast. The Laird and his best men set out in the hope they’d catch ye before it was too late. He’s left yer sister, Raven to fill his shoes as Clan Chief. A message came that ye’d been taken to Dunrobin.”

“Och lad. ‘Tis true. I was there but one night. It was enough to convince me that Sutherland meant me naught but ill. It was this wee lass, Aileen MacAlpin, that helped me escape his clutches.”

Ranald doffed his bonnet in greeting to Aileen. “I thank ye from the bottom of me heart. This one is precious tae us all at Kiessimul.”

He looked them over but made no comment about the bloodstains each of them wore prominently on their faces and clothing.

“That’s some travelling ye’ve been doing. And I can see ye look the worse for it. I ken ye’re in need of a meal, a bath and a change of clothing.” They both nodded. “And which of these should come first.”

“A bath,” Aileen exclaimed.

“A meal.”

Ranald looked from one to the other, and laughed. “I think the lass is the wise one here, lad. If ye turn up in the great hall looking like ye dae, I dinnae believe there’ll be one serf or servant or yer own sister prepared to consider ye’re the laird’s braither.”

A bath it was.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ranald instructed Mildred, the housekeeper, to prepare a bedchamber for Aileen and give orders to the kitchen maids to hasten with hot water for bathing for both Maxwell and Aileen.

“Ye ken yer bedchamber is kept ready fer ye at all times, me lord. Yer braither is never sure when ye’ll return and he wishes it tae be prepared fer ye whenever ye come.”

Maxwell headed to the staircase leading to the upper section of the keep where he always slept during his time at the castle.

Aileen followed Mildred up a sweeping stone staircase and along a passage, where Mildred opened the door to a small, pleasant, chamber hung with colorful, embroidered tapestries.

“The maids will bring ye the tub, some hot water, soap and towels.” Mildred said briskly. “One of them will light a fire tae warm this room, ‘tis cold enough tae freeze ye solid.” She wasa slim woman, wearing a neat linen kirtle, her fair hair tightly braided and wound around her head with nothing out of place. Her eyes travelled disapprovingly over Aileen.

“If ye’ll pardon me saying so milady, ye’re in need of a good scrub and some clean clothes.”

Aileen sighed. “Ye’re quite correct Mildred. We’ve been travelling rough fer more than a week.”

Mildred nodded. “Of course. Would ye like some porridge and a bannock or two?”

Aileen found herself grinning widely. “Mm. That would be very fine. Thank ye.”

The maids scurried in with a large tin tub and buckets of hot water to fill it. One of them laid a cake of lavender-scented soap and two soft, linen towels beside a cozy, knitted robe on a chair close to the tub.

The girl bobbed a curtsy. “They’ll bring yer breakfast along in a while.”

Aileen gratefully sank into the tub, breathing in the lavender steam, closing her eyes and allowing her tired bones to come back to life in the warmth. She sank under the depths of the water. allowing it to flow over her hair. Pulling herself up to sit, she lathered her wet hair with the sweet-smelling soap.

After she’d rinsed her hair, she luxuriated, the kinks and knots unravelling as she floated blissfully. Before the water could grow cold, she reluctantly stepped from the tub, wrapping her hair in the smaller of the two towels and gently drying her face, body and limbs with the other. She shrugged on the soft robe and went to sit by the fire.

Looking around she spied her britches, shirt, and tabard folded neatly sitting on a small table by the door. The door flew open and another maid entered carrying a wooden tray bearing a bowl of porridge, honey, milk, bannocks and jam. Once the door closed behind the maid, Aileen ravenously attacked the food.

Replete, she was brushing the crumbs from her robe when Mildred bustled in.

“Here, lass. I found this gown fer ye. Mayhap it will fit as ye’re a tall lass, rather like Lady Raven, the sister of the laird and his braither.”

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