‘Twasn’t until she was inside her small room that she let the tears fall.
After a time, she realized she was feeling sorry for herself. “What does it matter?” she asked the shadows. “Ye have been alone the whole of yer life. Ye should be used to this by now.”
Sitting on the small chair, she slowly rocked Nola to sleep. Looking at her sweet babe, some of the heartache began to wane. “Our plight could be much worse,” she murmured. “Da could still be alive and we could still be livin’ with him.”
That thought alone was the only thing that made her feel better about her situation.
And so it repeated for the next three mornings. Onnleigh would go below stairs, fix a trencher for herself, and attempt to sit with someone. Anyone. However, these people were still behaving as if she were a murderer. Not one would allow her to join them.
The nooning meals were spent in her room with Bridgett. Her evening meals were spent with Connor, hidden away in her little room, pretending naught a thing was wrong in her world. Onnleigh looked forward to this part of the day most of all, for she had Connor all to herself. They were getting to know one another better with each passing day.
She refused to tell Connor or Bridgett what was happening. Eventually, they would both come to the same conclusion as she: no one wanted her here.
Let them be rude, she told herself on this, the fourth morning. With her head held high, she prepared a trencher. But this morn, she refused to stand at each table in hopes someone would allow her to sit. Instead, she took her place at the small table.
“Be ye Onnleigh?” came a man’s voice from behind.
She spun around, her heart filled with more than just a bit of fear and dread. She found no malice in the man’s eyes, or in those belonging to the pretty woman standing next to him. He was nearly as tall as Connor, with the same blonde hair and bright green eyes. The woman was beautiful, her auburn hair plated around her head. There was a warmth to her dark green eyes that made Onnleigh’s fear and trepidation fall away at once.
“I did nae mean to startle ye,” he said with a smile. “I be Braigh, Connor’s younger brother. This be me wife, Lorna.”
Relief washed over her as she let her breath out in a quiet whoosh, so glad was she to see someone with a warm smile.
“Could we sit with ye?” Braigh asked with a hopeful expression.
“That would be right nice,” Onnleigh murmured.
“’Tis nice to finally meet ye,” he said as he helped his wife onto the bench across from Onnleigh.
“I have heard many nice things about ye,” Lorna added with a smile.
Before Onnleigh could reply, Braigh asked his wife if there was anything in particular she wanted to eat this morn. “Eggs,” she replied. “Lots and lots of eggs.”
Braigh chuckled, gave her a nod, and stepped away.
Lorna placed a palm on her stomach and smiled at Onnleigh. “I dunnae ken why, but I have been cravin’ eggs for weeks now.” She giggled.
Onnleigh thought back to when she was carrying Nola. She craved many things back then. None of which she had any access to. But alas, those memories of that time were naught to be shared with anyone.
Lorna smiled warmly at Nola. “Connor be awfully proud of the wee one.”
Onnleigh smiled proudly and agreed.
“My babe should arrive this spring,” Lorna told her. “The midwife says mid-March.”
“It be yer first?”
“Aye,” she said, still smiling down at Nola. “Braigh is convinced it be a boy child, and I am tempted to agree. Only because he keeps me up all hours of the night, like his da.”
Lorna’s giggling increased when she saw the blush creep up Onnleigh’s neck. “I be sorry,” she said. “Ye will learn I rarely think before I speak.”
Onnleigh was beginning to like this woman immensely.
Braigh returned with two trenchers, one filled with six hard-boiled eggs that he handed to his wife. “I will get ye more if ye need them,” he said with a wink and a smile.
He settled in next to his wife and began to eat. Between bites, he said, “I fer one be right glad ye be able to take care of the babe. I ken Connor certainly is as well.”
Nae nearly as happy as I, Onnleigh thought to herself.
“I do hope we can become good friends,” Lorna told her with a hopeful smile.
“I would like that,” Onnleigh replied. Two friends in less than a sennight? She quashed the urge to giggle like a fool.
For the next half hour, they talked, getting better acquainted with one another. She learned that Lorna was from the Mackintosh clan, both her parents having died several years ago.
“I do have a sister, Myrna. She still lives amongst the Mackintoshes, married she is. She is expectin’ her third babe in February.”
Onnleigh listened intently, glad she was to finally have someone else besides Bridgett or Connor to sup with. “How did ye and Braigh meet?” she asked curiously.
Braigh grinned and gave his wife a wink, before answering the question. “I first met and fell in love with me wife when I was a lad of no more than five and ten,” he told her. “We met at a clan gathering at the Mackintosh keep. She was the most beautiful lass I’d ever seen. I decided then and there that someday, I’d make her me wife.” The adoration in his eyes when he looked at his wife was enviable.
Lorna rolled her eyes and giggled. “Took him six long years to ask fer me hand,” she explained to Onnleigh.
At least he asked, Onnleigh thought. That be more than I could e’er hope fer. Tamping down her envy, she smiled and listened.
“I wanted to make certain I could provide fer ye before I asked fer yer hand,” he said with another mischievous wink.
Lorna leaned forward to speak directly to Onnleigh. “That is what he says,” she said playfully. “But methinks he was a bit too afraid of me da.”
So it went, the playful banter betwixt a husband and wife. While she was quite grateful and happy for their company, Onnleigh made a silent wish that someday, before she was auld and gray, there would be someone special in her life. Someone with whom she could share playful moments like the ones betwixt this couple who were so obviously in love with one another. Mayhap, someday.
Onnleigh felt much better after breaking her fast with Braigh and Lorna. Returning to her room, she lit the fire in her brazier before settling in to feed Nola. Her heart felt light, happy to have made friends with these new people.
With her spirits lifted, she set about tidying her room, although there was truly not much need for it. She kept everything in order, mostly out of habit, but also out of respect for Connor. He had done so much for her. Far more than anyone else had ever even attempted to do.
She pulled the fur away from her window to look outside. Just beyond the wall were tiny, well-kept cottages. Just beyond those, a large hill.
Picking Nola up from the cradle, Onnleigh brought her back to the window.
She pointed to things outside and explained what they were. “Those be tiny cottages where happy families live,” she told her. “In all me life, ‘twas all I ever hoped fer. A wee cottage with a roof that did nae leak. Now look at us, aye?”
She was startled when a knock sounded at her doorway. “Onnleigh?”
’Twas Braigh’s voice coming from the shadows. “May I come in?”
Onnleigh gave him permission to enter, believing Lorna was with him.
Braigh offered her a sincere and warm smile. “I hate to bother ye, but I have a favor to ask.”
Confused, she gave a slight nod of her head whilst she wondered where his wife was. She felt uncomfortable having any man save for Connor in her room.
“I have duties that will keep me away the rest of the day,” he told her. “I was wonderin’, could ye keep Lorna company this day? I worry about leavin’ her alone.”
She didn’t understand why he was worried and wondered if Lorna had some affliction she should be made aware of.
Braigh laughed
heartily when she asked. “Nay,” he said with a shake of his head. “I simply worry about her gettin’ lonely. Me and me brothers be the only family she has here.”
The sincere concern in his eyes nearly brought tears to her own. Lord above, how wonderful it would be to have someone care so much!
“’Twould be me great honor,” Onnleigh said with a smile. She felt proud and elated that Braigh would ask such a thing of her, for they’d only just met.
He blew out a relieved breath and thanked her. “We be down the hall and around the corner. First door on the right. I shall return before the evenin’ meal.”
Chapter 6
Nearly a fortnight had passed since Onnleigh had arrived at the keep. Much to Braigh’s relief, Lorna and Onnleigh had become fast friends. More than once he remarked how happy and grateful he was to have Onnleigh there to keep his wife company so that he could tend to his duties without worry. With each word of thanks from him, Onnleigh began to stand a bit taller and to worry far less.
As soon as they finished breaking their fasts, they would return to Lorna’s chamber where they would sew and talk for most of the day. Often times, Bridget would join them. With her good instruction, Onnleigh’s stitches improved considerably.
She had yet to meet Ronald, Connor’s youngest brother. According to Bridgett, Ronald preferred the night watch and patrolling their borders. If what Bridgett told her was true, then the young man was perhaps the most handsome, kind, generous, and perfect man to ever walk God’s earth. Onnleigh wondered if Ronald was as in love with Bridgett as Bridgett was with him?
Onnleigh and Nola fell into a comfortable schedule. Though flagons of goats’ milk was sent to her room several times each day, there was no need for it. Not one to allow anything to go to waste, Onnleigh would drink it, leaving the empty flagon on the table.
Connor would come to see them before he left each morn. He was such a kind man and very attentive toward Nola. He would hold her and talk to her before heading off to do whatever work it was he had in store for the day.
At night, he would return with a meal he shared with Onnleigh. He would talk about his day, about the plans for the upcoming Yuletide, and the like. For the most part, Onnleigh would only listen, asking an occasional question, so as not to appear addlepated or inept. He would also talk about his childhood, about the time he fostered with the Mackintoshes, and of Maire.
Maire was the one true love of his life, there was no doubt of it. Onnleigh remembered her being a beautiful child, but naught else. She would have to have been a remarkable woman in order to catch Connor’s attention and gain his heart. Will anyone ever think of me the way Connor still thinks of Maire? She often found herself wondering. Chances were nil; she knew that. As much as she tried willing her heart and mind away from such things, ’twas impossible. No one, and most assuredly no one as wonderful as Connor, would ever look upon her with loving and adoring eyes. And were she to die on the morrow, there would be no one to mourn her loss.
’Twas those thoughts that kept her awake at night. That, along with worry. If anyone were to find out she had given birth to Nola, Onnleigh’s entire world would come to a screeching halt. Connor would undoubtedly send her away, for what man would want a woman of loose morals in his home? And what would happen to Nola? Would he keep her or would he insist Onnleigh take her away?
Those sleepless nights made her feel tired during the day. But the moment Connor walked into her room, all those worries fell away. He made her feel at peace. Safe and protected too.
There was no doubt in her mind that he cared a great deal for his clan and their future. He was a good, kind man. A man she was growing more fond of as the days passed.
This night, however, he seemed distracted. Worried it had something to do with her, she picked at her food until she could take no more. “What bothers ye this night?” she asked, feigning an air of calm.
Connor raked a hand through his blond hair as he set his eating knife down. “I have received word that the Randalls and the McCrearys are joinin’ forces.”
Though she had no true idea what it meant, she could see from the worry etched in his face ’twas not good news for the MacCallens. “I fear I dunnae understand,” she admitted.
Connor let out a heavy breath of frustration. “We are well matched against either clan. But if they join forces, we will be sorely outnumbered.”
A large knot formed in the pit of her stomach. “Will we be goin’ to war?”
He pursed his lips together and shook his head. “I pray no’,” he said woefully.
She did not know the first thing about war or battles. Only enough to be frightened at the possibility. “Are the Mackintoshes and McLarens still our allies?”
“Aye,” he replied. “But they have problems of their own at the moment. They be warrin’ with the MacRays.”
“Why must men fight so? Why can we no’ all just leave one another alone?”
He scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. “As long as evil exists in this world and as long as men thirst for power and hunger for more, then there will never be peace in this world.”
There was no arguing against that.
They sat in quiet contemplation for a long while. With all her heart she wished she could help Connor as he had helped her and Nola. But what help could a poor, uneducated woman be to a man like him?
“What if ye joined forces with the Randalls before the McCrearys do?” she asked.
When he looked at her as if she were something he’d never seen before, she felt her face grow warm with shame. It would serve ye well to learn to keep yer mouth shut, she cursed inwardly.
“What do ye ken of the Randalls?” he asked with a raised brow.
With her shoulders slumped, she was afraid to answer. “Nae much, m’laird. I only ken they be our enemy.”
“Aye, they are, and have been for so long no one can now remember why.”
Setting her eating knife aside, she folded her hands in her lap. “I be sorry that I cannae help ye.”
’Twas then he did the most unexpected of things. He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. ’Twas the first time in many a year that anyone had done such a thing. She refused to count the intimate moments with Darwud, as they were born out of falsehoods.
Connor’s skin felt warm against her own, setting her stomach to flip and flop excitedly. Nay, she warned her traitorous heart. Do no’ believe it be more than yer laird bein’ kind.
“But ye have helped me, Onnleigh. More than ye realize.”
Dubious, she looked up with a raised brow. “Me? Helped ye?”
His smile was so warm and kind it made her feel … something she’d not ever felt before. Appreciated? Wanted?
“Aye, lass, ye have. Ye see, I feel at ease talkin’ with ye. There are no’ too many here I can talk to as I do ye. Ye be a verra good listener.”
A good listener? While she knew he meant it as a compliment, her frantically beating heart wanted to scream that it wanted more.
“I consider ye my friend, Onnleigh.”
’Twas said with such sincerity that she felt close to crying. His friend? Aye, I can be his friend, for ’tis with a certainty I could never be more than that. Mayhap as his friend, he would not turn his back on her when he learned all the secrets she had been keeping.
“So,” he said as he picked up his eating knife again. “Ye think we should ally ourselves with the Randalls?”
Believing herself to be the last person he should come to for advice, she remained silent.
“Onnleigh?” he said her name with much concern.
“I fear I do no’ ken the ways of warrin’ and such, m’laird. Mayhap ye should ask someone who kens better than I.”
“It has been me experience that those who think they ken the way of the world and what must be done, are no’ always right. I would like to hear what ye think.”
Taking in a slow, deep breath, she found the courage to answer. “I think the Randalls would be mo
re trustworthy than the McCreary’s as allies.”
“Why?” he asked, with a raised brow.
“Well, me da was quite fond of the McCrearys. Kennin’ me da as I did, it would lead me to believe they are about as trustworthy as he was.”
He could find no fault in that argument. Letting loose with a low, soft chuckle, he scratched the back of his neck. The last thing he wanted to do was to insult her father. Even if he had been naught but a lying, thieving whoreson. “Ye may be right,” he admitted to her.
“Well, I reckon the only way to find out would be to ask,” she told him.
Connor could only pray it would be as simple as that.
As had become habit, Onnleigh broke her fast with Braigh and Lorna, then returned to her room to visit with Bridgett. She was grateful for Bridgett’s friendship.
Over the many years alone, Onnleigh had often wished for a friend like Bridgett. Someone who’d not frown upon her tattered clothes, her poor speech, her lack of knowledge of worldly things.
“Well, I’d best be goin’,” Bridgett finally announced. “I would love to spend the day with ye, but there is much work to be done.”
If Nola hadn’t started to fuss, signifying she’d soon be ready to eat, Onnleigh would have loved to argue for Bridgett stay. Onnleigh had grown used to her company and did not like being alone much anymore. “Do ye think I could help?” she asked as she lifted Nola from the cradle. “I be verra good at cleanin’.”
“But ye’re here to care for the babe,” Bridgett reminded her.
“Och, ’tis nae all I can do. When I use the sling, I have two hands that can be workin’.”
“Mayhap ye should ask Connor where he’d like ye to help,” Bridgett suggested from the doorway. “I be certain he’d ken better than I.”
Was her reluctance born out of truly not knowing what or where she could help, or something more? Onnleigh decided it best not to jump to conclusions. “Verra well, I shall ask him when he returns.”
Secrets of the Heart Page 7