Lady of Light Read Online Free PDF Page A

body!”
    “Och, he’s a good man in his own way,” Claire said in their landlord’s defense. “He just gets a wee bit grumpy when his meals are disturbed.” Then, knowing she had little other choice, she turned to Evan. “If you don’t mind a pallet on the floor, you can stay with us this eve. It hardly makes sense to send you back to Culdee in the dark. Odds are you’d lose your way and fall into a burn and drown, or be set upon by one of our Highland beasties.”
    “Your concern for my welfare is most flattering, ma’am.” A wry humor gleamed in his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to put you out, though, or impose further on your hospitality.”
    Claire made an impatient sound. “And isn’t that an expectation when requesting hospitality? That you’ll be imposing on someone?” She tugged on his jacket sleeve. “Well, dinna fash yourself. It can’t be helped, and it’s only for one night. On the morrow, I’ll help you set your house aright. Then you’ll have your peace and privacy for as long as you wish to remain in Culdee.”
    “Well, if you’re certain you don’t mind …”
    “I don’t mind. Now, come along. Our own supper’s ready, and I’m famished.”
    Even as she denied them, though, second thoughts did assail Claire. At every turn, circumstances seemingly contrived to thrust Evan MacKay into her path. It was bad enough Father MacLaren had suggested Angus’s croft house for Evan, a house not fifty feet from hers. But then to be forced to nursemaid him in his quest to discover his true kinfolk, and now even to put him up for a night in her own house …
    It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all!

    Claire and Ian’s little croft house, though small, appeared quite clean and cozy. The simple rectangular building was constructed of mortar and stone, the roof thatched with sod divots stuffed with barley straw. It possessed but a single entrance, and two small, glasspaned windows situated on either side of the door. At both ends of the cottage, a chimney protruded.
    Inside, the house opened onto two rooms joined between by a long vestibule off the front door. Claire led Evan into the larger chamber on the right, which was most evidently the living area and kitchen. As she hurried to light the oil in several cast-iron contraptions she called cruisies, Evan glanced leisurely around.
    The walls were lime-washed, the two windows decorated by lace curtains and pots of bright red geraniums. The floors were hard-packed clay, covered in places by mats of plaited straw and bent grass interspersed with several colorful rag rugs. On the far wall was the fireplace. Simmering over a now smoldering peat fire was a cast-iron pot hanging from a chain. Nearby, stacked on both sides of the hearth, were a variety of pots and pans plus several ladles, and what looked to be some sort of griddle.
    Against the adjoining wall sat a tall, enclosed wooden box with doors that contained a bed. In the center of the room stood a rough-hewn table set with stools. Two low chests, a wickerwork cabinet, and a tall cupboard laden with an assortment of pottery and wooden dinnerware completed the room’s décor.
    “That’s Ian’s bed.” Claire indicated the boxbed. “You can sleep near the fire, if you wish.”
    “Sounds good, ma’am. Sure beats the cold, hard ground out of doors.”
    As if she felt her hospitality still lacking, she nodded curtly, took down a bowl from the cupboard, then paused. “Are you thirsty, Mr. MacKay? We’ve a jug of ale. Or I can make you a pot of tea.”
    “The ale sounds right fine, ma’am.”
    “Ian, why don’t you show Mr. MacKay where to wash up,” Claire said, glancing pointedly at her brother, “then fetch him a cup of ale? Meanwhile, I’ll make us some bannocks to go with the colcannon. There isn’t enough time now to bake bread.”
    Ian looked to Evan, then motioned toward a corner near the cupboard. On a small table sat a red and white-striped pottery pitcher and basin. Evan put