The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(74)

Despite his warning, Christina could not let it go. He’d thought her a jealous, silly girl, which was appropriate, because that’s exactly how she felt. And her jealousy continued to fester with each day he was gone.

Of course it didn’t help that Lady Janet was absent as well. Curse him, what was she supposed to think?

If it weren’t for Brother John, she would have gone mad. He seemed to welcome her company as much as she did his, and they’d taken to walking together around the barmkin in the morning when the weather allowed; and often, such as today, when Rhuairi was busy elsewhere, she would join him in the solar as he transcribed the seemingly endless correspondence and accounts. No matter how hard she tried, her husband’s seneschal had not warmed to her, and something about him made her uncomfortable. He’d made it quite clear that he did not think she belonged in her husband’s solar.

If he knew that she could read, he’d be even more horrified. From the surreptitious reading that she’d managed, she realized she’d had no idea about the immense amount of work that went into being chief of a large clan. From the mundane, such as fixing leaking roofs in a villager’s cottage and collecting the rents for his vast holdings, to the lawdays spent presiding over disputes between clansmen or passing judgment for far more serious crimes, her husband had a hand in it all. No wonder he was so busy. Though she couldn’t help feeling proud, it was too much for any one man to handle and made her even more determined to help. There was more to life than war and duty, if only he could see it.

She’d hoped her husband would confide in her on his own, but since he wouldn’t, she was happy to learn about him any way she could.

She was tempted to confess her ability to read and write to Brother John—he could certainly use her help—but many of the documents were confidential and she worried that he would bar her from joining him if he knew.

Besides, she wanted to tell her husband first. She’d almost done so that night when he’d caught her eating figs and reading her book, but for some reason she hesitated. It wasn’t that she thought he would react like her father, but he was a proud man, and she didn’t know whether it would matter to him if he had a wife who was more educated than he was. Still, she’d begun to wonder whether her unusual skills might be the way to help him. Maybe it would help him see her in a different way—as more than just a bedmate.

The clerk finished his story and Christina laughed at his absurd description. “I’m sure it couldn’t have been as bad as all that,” she said kindly, handing him the new quill she’s just finished sharpening.

“I assure you it was worse,” he said, taking it with a grateful nod. “I was so scared I went running out of the dormitory wearing nothing at all. When the tutor finally opened the door the next morning, let us say he was not amused.”

“Did the other boys get in trouble?”

He looked affronted. “Or course not. I swore I’d walked in my sleep and somehow the door had locked behind me. The tutor told me to sleep in my robe from then on, lest I do so again.”

“That was very magnanimous of you. Those boys were terrible to scare you in your sleep so.”

His gaze dropped back down to the piece of vellum he was working on. “Not magnanimous,” he said uncomfortably. “I was a coward. I feared what they would do to me the rest of the time if I told.” His mouth curled. “Not that my silence mattered much.”

Christina’s heart went out to him. She, too, understood the shame of being a coward. Of being forced to confront your own helplessness against a much stronger foe. She and Brother John had much in common.

She placed her hand on his and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Sometimes surviving is the bravest thing of all.” A cold shadow crossed behind her, sending a shiver down her neck. She turned, but there was no one there.

He looked at her hand for a long moment. She was just starting to feel self-conscious about the unthinking gesture when he gave her a wry smile. “Do you know, I didn’t want to go into the church?”

“Really?” She removed her hand.

He shook his head. “I had three older brothers.”

She nodded her head in comprehension. There hadn’t been much left over for a fourth son. “What did you want to do?”

He gave her an uncertain look. “To be a great knight.” Color stained his cheeks. “Like Lancelot.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you know Chrétien?”

“They are my favorite stories.”

A broad smile spread across her face. “Mine, too.”

They laughed again and spent the next hour regaling each other with the exploits of Arthur’s greatest knight, stopping only when she realized it was well past time to break their fast.

Christina returned to her room for a moment to freshen up and approached the Hall alone. Later, she was grateful no one was there to witness her shock. Brother John, she knew, already felt sorry for her being ignored by her husband, and she wouldn’t have been able to hide the tumult of emotions.

At the opposite end of the Hall, near the main entrance, she caught sight of Lady Janet surrounded by a large retinue of men. Christina’s relief that the other woman had returned alone was short-lived. The group of men shifted, revealing the formidable figure of her husband. Her heart jumped the way it always did when she saw him. Unconsciously, she took a step forward. Had he just returned?