He gave her a warm hug and thanked her kindly. Stepping away, he smiled thoughtfully. “I be verra glad to have ye as me ally, Louisa. I hope ye’ll be Onnleigh’s as well.”
She turned her attention to Onnleigh for a long moment. “I remember when she was born too. Och, such a pretty babe she was. As beautiful as her mum.”
“I fear I do nae remember much of her mum and da, nor Onnleigh.”
“She was a good woman. Someday, I shall tell ye how she came to be married to Grueber, fer ‘twill take a long while and a wee bit of whisky to tell it.”
Although his interest was piqued, the sun would soon be setting, and his time running short. “I look forward to it. Now, let us go and see if we can’t pry that babe out of her hands.”
It had taken some work on Connor’s part to convince his betrothed the babe would be fine in the capable hands of their cook, and to get Onnleigh headed toward the stables.
“Where be we goin’?” she asked as they crossed the yard.
“I wish ye to ride with me,” he told her as he led the way.
“Ride what?” she asked with a furrowed brow.
He chuckled softly. “Me horse.”
She came to an abrupt halt. “I’ve ne’er been on one before.”
“Do nae worry it, lass. Ye’ll be ridin’ with me.”
Soon they were atop his steed, heading toward the wishing well, with Onnleigh perched partly on his lap and partly on the saddle. She found she rather liked being that near to him. With his arms wrapped around her protectively, she felt safe and cared for and wondered if she would ever get used to the feeling. With a certainty, she knew she’d never grow tired of it.
Onnleigh was thankful for the warm cloak Connor had given her as a Yuletide gift. It kept her quite warm against the cold winter air.
Heavy, dark clouds holding the promise of snow made him urge his horse faster along the rolling hills. His men were following in a wide circle per Connor’s order.
As they rode, Connor spoke of his childhood, his three brothers, and the one sister they’d lost at an early age. He also told of how hard it had been to lose his parents, then his wife and child.
Onnleigh listened intently, offering nothing about her own upbringing. As far as she was concerned, there was not much to tell. It had been a hard, lonely existence, therefore naught to speak about.
The first snow of winter began to fall before they reached the well, as a strong breeze lifted strands of her hair out of her braid. Onnleigh drew her cloak tighter and dared to lean against Connor for warmth. Happily, he opened his own cloak wide before wrapping it around her. “Next time, I shall remember to bring ye a fur,” he promised with a hug.
Soon, they were at the well. Connor dismounted before helping Onnleigh down. With his protective hand at the small of her back, they walked to the well.
“Why be we here?” she asked.
“Do ye ken the legend of the well?”
“Nae, I dunnae ken of a legend,” she admitted.
Taking her hand in his, he told her the legend as it had been told to him.
“Long ago, the Vikings came to our lands. Hundreds upon hundreds of years ago. They built this fortress and the walls ye see here,” he explained as he glanced about the place.
“Well, one of the Viking soldiers fell in love with a local lass. Seein’ how we hated them bein’ here, ‘twas natural that her parents forbade her to see him. So one night, in desperation, she stole away with the intention of marrying him in secret. Her parents soon learned of their plan, and followed the lovers here. Rather than be separated, they ran to the fort and hid in this well. “
Onnleigh thought it an awfully dangerous place for anyone to hide, but kept her feelings to herself.
“There was a terrible storm that night and the run-off from the mountains that kept the well supplied soon filled it with water until it overflowed, drowning the two lovers.”
Her eyes grew wide with surprise. ‘Twasn’t at all the happy ending she had been expecting.
“Many believe their spirits still wander here. Many also believe that if two lovers tie a lock of their hair together with a weighted ribbon and toss it into the well at Yule time, the spirits will grant them a wish. A wish that will bind them for eternity.”
Confused, she stared up at him. “That be a right sad story, Connor,” she told him. “I wish to be away from here.”
Tilting his head to one side, he asked her why.
“Och! ‘Tis bad luck, this place. And I do nae wish to offend any ghosts or spirits!” A sudden gust of wind blew up, whipping bits of dead grass and leaves against the hem of her dress.
Connor drew her to his chest and held her tight. “Do ye ken that I was here a few weeks ago with me grandminny?”
“Aye,” she replied as she rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I was here too.”
He knew she had been, for Braigh had told him, but he let that matter lie for now. “Do ye ken what I wished for?”
Turning up her face to look at him, she said, “Aye, I do. I could hear ye.”
“I be nae a man who believes in ghosts, or fairies, or wishes. At least, I did nae until I met ye.”
With a curious expression, she asked him to explain.
“I have been comin’ here with me grandminny every year for as long as I can remember. But until this last visit, I never made a wish before. And now look at me.”
“Ye wished fer a wife and children and peace,” she murmured softly.
“Aye, I did. So do ye understand what that means?”
With a shake of her head, she replied that she did not.
“Ye be a wish and dream come true, lass. Ye be everythin’ I wished for that day.”
Another shake, this time in disbelief. “Ye be daft,” she told him, with the belief that he was just being kind.
“Am I? I think nae. I think there might be somethin’ to this auld well. I’d like us to take a lock of our hair and make a wish this night. We shall be married soon and I’d like us to be married a good long time.”
Her knotted brow said she questioned his soundness of mind. “And ye think tyin’ our hair together and tossin’ it into the well will make that happen?”
He gave a slight shrug. “What did ye wish for?”
Admittedly, he had her cornered. She had wished for a warm, safe, and loving home for her daughter. Mayhap there was something to it after all.
Taking his dirk from his belt, he cut a small lock of her hair, then his, before tying them together with a bit of twine. Using a small rock he found lying on the ground, he weighted their entwined hair together.
“Now what shall we wish for?”
She thought long and hard on it. “Many more bairns?” she asked.
That brought a wide smile to his handsome face. “Aye. For many bairns, and continued prosperity for our clan.”
“And peace,” she added, remembering that had been part of his previous wish.
“And peace,” he repeated.
God willing, he mused there will finally be peace for my clan.
Just before the New Year, Connor called the MacCallens together for a special meeting. Over Onnleigh’s objections, he insisted she be there, right beside him, when he announced to one and all that he was taking her as his wife.
While some of the clanspeople were not behaving with as much hostility as when she had first arrived, she was not so naive as to believe everyone would accept their betrothal.
“Ye dunnae understand the way of it,” she was explaining to Connor for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. “Nae all yer people want me here.”
Connor, ever the optimist, refused to wait any longer. “And they never will if ye keep yerself hidden away.”
Intentionally, she had kept the many blatant instances of rudeness and even hostility towards her a secret. She hadn’t even shared those difficult stories with Bridgett or Lorna. Believing ’twas best not to stir the fires, she had kept quiet. That was why Connor fervently believed
she was worrying over nothing.
“Have I told ye how beautiful ye look this day?” he asked, smiling fondly at her.
“Only a dozen times,” she replied, knowing full well he was trying to change the subject.
“I think Lorna and Bridgett have outdone themselves,” he said. She assumed he was referring to the new, dark green woolen gown she wore. “I like yer hair that way.”
A warm blush crept up her neck as she touched the intricate braids. Her mouth felt awfully dry, her soft thank ye catching in her throat. Onnleigh had quickly learned over the last few weeks that he had a way of disarming her good senses, of making her forget her worries with a few kind, well-placed compliments.
“Are ye ready?”
’Twas Ronald asking that particular question as he stood in the doorway to Onnleigh’s new bedchamber. Connor thought it might be best for all concerned if Onnleigh and Nola were moved to a room down the hall. One with a door. The reason was twofold. One, it would help stave off some of the rumors that would surely abound once their announcement was made. And two, ‘twould be far more difficult for either of them to give into temptation if they were farther apart.
“Aye,” Connor said with a nod. “Are Braigh and Lorna ready?”
“Aye. They be waitin’ in the hall, along with Bridgett.”
Connor’s original idea had been to have the clan assemble out of doors. But a heavy snow had fallen across their lands over the past few days, so the meeting was moved into the gathering room. Though the room was grand and large, it still could not hold every member of the clan, so many spilled out into the hallways. Those that could not fit within were patiently waiting outside the open doors.
“Come,” Connor said as he took Onnleigh’s hand in his. “Just think,” he whispered as they stepped out into the hallway. “In a few weeks, we shall be man and wife, and this will all be over with. Naught more than a distant memory.”
Oh, how she wanted with all her heart to believe it would be as easy as Connor was convinced it would be.
Connor stepped toward the banister and looked down at his people. Onnleigh was just a step behind him, waiting between Braigh and Lorna. Ronald and Bridgett stood to Connor’s left. ’Twas as united a front as they could muster, considering the circumstances.
A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes looked up at him. He offered them a warm smile and greeting. “I be glad ye all came to join us this day,” he said. “I will nae keep ye long, fer I be certain ye’d all like to return to yer homes, warm fires, and mayhap a dram or two to stave off the cold.”
Many in the crowd laughed or chuckled and all agreed with his assessment.
“I have gathered ye all here today to share some verra good news with ye. Some verra good news indeed,” he said, his smile undeniable. Turning, he took Onnleigh by the hand and brought her to stand next to him. “Over these past many weeks, I have come to ken Onnleigh ingen Grueber as a good woman with a kind and givin’ heart. To me family, she has become a good and loyal friend.”
Puzzled expressions, whispers of confusion began and swelled amongst the crowd. Connor ignored them and continued.
“But she has become much more than that to me. Onnleigh has won me heart.”
Gasps of surprise broke out from below. His people were stunned at the announcement, exchanging bewildered expressions with one another. While some did seem genuinely pleased, there were a small group who looked angry.
Onnleigh fare shook with trepidation. The derisiveness was palpable. Connor gave her hand a gentle squeeze as he ignored those who were less than positive. “We shall be postin’ the banns this day. In three weeks time, Onnleigh and I will marry.”
As he stared into the eyes of his people, Connor felt, for the very first time, everything Onnleigh had been trying to tell him. While he was relieved to see a good majority of his people appearing happy, ’twas that small handful that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. However, he fervently believed they would eventually come around to the idea.
“I ken nae all of ye remember Onnleigh, as she has been away from the clan for a good number of years,” he said, raising his voice as he looked directly at those clanspeople who seemed less than pleased. “I ken that once ye get to ken her, ye will see her as I and me family do: a kind, generous, warm woman. And I expect each of ye to treat her with respect and kindness.”
Those who were in favor of the union cheered and shouted their good wishes. Those who were opposed remained quiet, but they knew Connor’s comments were meant solely for them. He was telling them in no uncertain terms how he expected them to treat his betrothed: with nothing less than unmitigated respect.
Giving her hand another gentle squeeze, he kissed Onnleigh rather soundly, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was a man very much in love.
Chapter 10
The following morn, they took their breakfast together in Connor’s room, discussing plans on how she could win the clan over. In the end, they decided the best course of action was to be as honest and genuine as possible by simply being herself. Kissing the top of her head, he left her while he went to tend to duties below stairs.
With newfound determination and courage, Onnleigh decided she would set out to prove to Clan MacCallen that she was not the thief or layabout her father had been. If Connor could believe in her, then she should believe in herself.
When it was time for the nooning meal, Onnleigh made herself as clean and as presentable as she could. Wearing the deep indigo gown, she combed her hair until it shone and let it fall down her back. Next, she put Nola in a pretty yellow gown with matching woolens and bonnet, wrapped her in a pretty blue blanket and put her in the sling.
Although she was quite nervous, she did her best not to show it. With her back straight and head held high, she walked down the stairs and into the gathering room. Crossing the floor, she went to the long table where the noonin’ meal was spread out. As she picked foods she recognized and some she didn’t, she wondered if there would ever come a time where she’d be accustomed to eating so much. Warm bread, dripping with butter and berry jam was quickly becoming her favorite and she was quite happy to see it offered again.
With her trencher full, she took a deep breath and turned to face the crowded room. Dozens of people sat at the tables enjoying their meal and conversations with friends. Who to sit with? She recognized no one.
Taking a chance, she went to the table with the friendliest looking people — a few men and women of varying ages.
“Good day’,” she said with a smile.
Each looked up at her before exchanging glances with one another. A moment later, they scooted across the benches, just as they had been doing for weeks now. A silent signal that they had no desire for her company.
Her gut tightened as her cheeks burned with humiliation. Refusing to give up or be disheartened, she stepped to the next table, only to be met by the same icy glares and taking up of space so that she could not sit.
Were Connor here with her right now she knew they’d not be treating her with such disrespect. Nay, she had to do this on her own. Pulling her shoulders back she tried the next table.
The results were the same.
Last eve, many of these people had cheered at Connor’s announcement. But this morn, they were behaving as if they could not abide the sight of her. What had happened in that short amount of time to change their opinion?
She stood, momentarily lost, in the middle of the room. What have I e’er done to ye?
Bridgett wasn’t here to protect her. Braigh and Lorna were absent as well. She felt more alone now than she ever had before.
Her attention was drawn away by a loud clicking sound from across the room. Standing there was an auld woman, with silver hair, bright eyes, and a walking stick.
“I be lookin’ fer Onnleigh ingen Grueber,” she said in a loud voice.
All eyes in the room turned to Onnleigh. ’Twas enough to make her knees knock together.
Tak
ing a deep breath and stealing herself for whatever assault the auld woman had in mind for her, she said, “I be her.”
The woman eyed her for a long moment before shuffling across the floor. After a long moment of close scrutiny, she smiled and said, “Ye be just as bonny as Connor said.”
Onnleigh’s shoulders relaxed, but only slightly.
“I be his grandminny, Bruanna,” she said. “Come, sup with me so I can get to know ye better.”
She turned to face the table that had turned Onnleigh away only moments earlier. They stared at her with confused expressions, unmoving and uncertain.
“Move over, Daniel and Agard, and let us sit,” Bruanna said to two middle-aged men.
With a heavy sighs of resignation, the two men parted, allowing plenty of room. Bruanna smiled and let out a groan as she sat and spun around. “I remember a time I could jump on the table and dance ’til the light of morn. Now, ’tis work just to sit at the table.”
Onnleigh could not resist smiling as she too took a seat next to Bruanna. Across from them sat another middle-aged man, a young man, mayhap only a few years older than Onnleigh, and a lovely woman with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes.
“Rena, would ye be a dear and get this auld woman some food?” Bruanna asked as she set her walking stick across the table.
“I’ll do it,” Onnleigh offered sweetly.
With a warm, gnarled hand, Bruanna patted her on the arm. “Nay, ye sit here with me. Rena does nae mind.”
Rena quirked a brow, started to respond but thought better of it. “Verra well,” she said with more than a bit of frustration.
“I would love a bit of ham,” Bruanna said. “With extra gristle. ’Tis good fer me digestion.”
Muttering something incoherent, Rena left the table.
“So Seamus the younger,” Bruanna directed her full attention to the young man sitting across from her. “Be ye still courtin’ Claire ingen William?”
The young man’s face burned red, but a twinkle lit in his eyes at the mention of the girl’s name. “Aye,” he said sheepishly.
Secrets of the Heart Page 11