Morna's Legacy: Box Set #1
Page 10
The tub was close enough to the fireplace that some of the heat from the flames warmed my left arm, which hung over the side of the tub. The light emitting from the fireplace mixed with the darkness, which had slowly flooded the room as the sun dropped lower into the horizon. The combination of light and dark was soothing, and my mind drifted closer to sleep with each flicker of the flames.
Just as I was at the edge of slumber the bedroom door opened and closed, causing me to nearly jump out of the water. Suddenly being jarred from my daze made me realize how cold I had actually become. My entire body was wrinkled from being in the water too long, and my nipples were pointed into hard beads. I assumed it was Mary with some food, but then I heard the deep voice. I moved quickly to cross my legs and cover my chest with my arms as I heard Eoin’s footsteps behind me.
“I’m no sure what to say to ye, lass. I behaved badly by locking ye away, but I was so angry it was all that came to mind.”
He stopped right next to the tub, but his head and eyes were turned away from my body as he bent and touched the surface of the water with his fingertips, quickly jerking them away.
“Ach, lass! Ye’ll get yerself sick sitting in water that cold. How long have ye been in there?”
“I…I don’t know. Since Mary brought me up here. I might have fallen asleep.” I pulled my knees up toward my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. It was warmer, and it seemed to cover a little more of my intimate parts.
I watched as Eoin reached toward the bed to grab a blanket off the top. He stretched it out and held it open for me, still looking away. “Here, lass, stand up and go sit by the fire.”
He could sense my hesitation, and I could see the corner of his left brow crease in frustration. “I’m no looking at ye, lass. I just want to talk to ye, but if ye doona get yerself out of that tub I’ll lift ye out of it meself.”
Even through the little time I’d spent with him, I knew he wouldn’t make an idle threat. I reached out and snatched the blanket, wrapping it around myself as I stepped out of the large basin.
Silently I walked closer to the fire, sitting as close to the flames as I could on the stone floor. Keeping my hands, arms, and legs inside the blanket, I hugged myself, enjoying the feeling of hiding every part except my head underneath the blanket. It helped conceal the fact that my legs were shaking. I was so nervous for whatever he was going to say, I felt like I could vomit. Thankfully, he didn’t force me to wait too long before he spoke.
“Blaire. I canna pretend that I’m no any less angry at ye than I was before. I know that Arran puts the blame on himself, but from what I saw, ye are guilty as well. I know I must allow ye to live in the castle and act as me wife on certain occasions, but as far as I’m concerned, our marriage is invalid. I’ll no be unkind to ye, but I’ll no treat ye as I would a loving companion either.”
He paused, obviously waiting for a response, which I didn’t have. After waiting a few moments, he gave up and continued.
“No one outside of the castle will know the truth about our marriage, but we will live for the most part separately, only joining when it is time to produce an heir. Regardless, ye are never to be alone with Arran again. And we will be spending quite a lot of time together for the sake of appearances, aye? It is my hope that we can both learn to live in peace with one another.”
He stared intently, his dark eyes blacker than usual, as he awaited my response. I was so filled with relief at learning that I would be staying in a separate room and living separately that I was unsure of what to say. As far as producing an heir, I had no intention of hanging around long enough for that to be an issue.
I could tell he was still furious and it was all he could do to speak to me politely. If I showed him just how glad I was to hear every word he’d just said, I knew it might crack his calm façade. Remorse was the best way to soothe a man’s wounded ego.
“I am sorry for what happened, Eoin. I have no good explanation. I understand the reasons for yer requests and, aye, I accept them. Ye have my word that I will no make the same mistake again. Thank ye for not leaving me in that prison.” I tried to look as apologetic as I could. I truly was sorry for upsetting him, but I knew the situation was really caused by someone other than myself.
Eoin’s eyes softened at my words and he walked toward me, gently placing a hand on the top of my head. “Aye. I know ye are, lass. I’m sorry that it must be this way, too. I’ll leave ye to rest now. We all gather for breakfast in the grand dining hall every morning. Ye will be expected at my side.”
I glanced up at him, and he jerked his hand away, his eyes hardening as he turned and left, leaving me alone in the room once more.
Chapter 15
“Doona worry so much, dearie. Ye’ve done fine so far, and it’s unlikely that Eoin would press ye with such a question, but it’s important that ye know it if ye are here long enough to have to meet Blaire’s father. Now, which ear is it that he canna hear from?”
“It’s his left ear. He was born that way and can’t hear anything unless you speak loudly or into his right ear.”
“Yes, dear. So doona be alarmed if he screams at ye. It’s only that he canna know how loud he can sometimes be.”
I watched as Mary laughed, her entire belly moving with each chuckle, causing me to smile in return.
It had been two weeks since I’d been released from the dungeon and, while the first few days after my imprisonment found me under Eoin’s constant watch, Mary quickly picked up on the problem and suggested that I ask Eoin if I could spend my afternoons with her so that she could teach me how to cook. While it was highly unusual for the laird’s wife to spend her time in the kitchen, I knew he was tired of babysitting me, and he consented easily. Since then, I’d spent a large portion of every day either training with Mary so that I could learn family history and cultural customs, or digging through the mountains of books in Morna’s spell room.
While I was enjoying my lessons with Mary immensely, the search to find a spell that would get me home was an entirely different story. The small room was crowded with books, journals, records, most of which had absolutely nothing to do with spells. Morna’s records and diaries I could read, but the majority of her spell books were in Gaelic, which I did not know. I was slowly having to search through everything written in English first, all while sorting through the things in Gaelic that looked relevant and setting them aside to deal with later.
I was busy thinking of my game plan for the next few hours, which I would spend sifting through the rooms’ contents, when Mary stopped chuckling and spoke once more.
“Ye have noticed that he doesna seem as angry anymore, haven’t ye? He’s slowly warming to ye, a little more each day.”
Her words surprised me. Sure, Eoin no longer seemed angry in the way in which he carried himself when he was around me, and his eyes didn’t look as dark, but ‘warming’? I hadn’t seen anything to make me think that. “What do you mean, ‘warming’? I wouldn’t say that exactly.”
“Oh, that’s because ye doona know him the way I do, dearie. He doesna warm to people as easily as his brother does. He guards himself closely, he knows that ye have the power to break his heart. But, Old Mary’s known him his entire life, and I see the way he looks at ye. He cares for ye, even if he willna let himself know it.”
“I think you’re wrong, Mary. He’s never done a thing to make me think he’s anything but repulsed by me. But even if you’re right, it’s best that he doesn’t let himself start to care. I’ll be gone from here before too long.”
Knowing that today’s family history lesson was at an end, I stepped inside the doorway and made my way over to the pile of my modern clothes, which I’d hidden away to put on only while I worked in the spell room. I looked forward to those hours every day, so that I could put on a bra to strap the girls in place and put on my favorite pair of jeans. It was heaven; or as close as I was going to get to it here.
Seeing that I was preparing to work on the books,
Mary stood to leave. “Well, dearie, I see that ye are about to slip on those awful shreds of cloth ye seem to care so much about, so I’ll leave ye to yer work and come back to get ye before the evening meal. But, I’ll no lie to ye, Eoin’s already allowed himself to care. If ye open yer eyes up, ye will be able to see it as well.”
With that she turned and left the basement, and I sat down to get to work.
* * *
Eoin made his way down to the dining hall for the evening meal and stopped abruptly when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in a piece of armory which hung on the wall. He was surprised to see that the corners of his mouth were pulled up, so that they resembled something of a smile. He tried to relax his face, so that that his mouth fell back into where it usually stayed, but he found that his lips didn’t want to stay put.
Confused, he turned away from the reflection and continued to make his way down the hall, all the while wondering why he was so pleased and excited at the idea of eating. It hit him when he walked into the dining hall to see Blaire seated in her usual place.
It wasn’t the prospect of food that excited him. After spending the entire afternoon alone, he was going to get to see Blaire.
He’d done his best to stay angry at her and resolve himself to the fact that their marriage was always going to be one of convenience, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay angry at her forever. It was getting harder each day for him to ignore his feelings.
When he’d walked in on Arran kissing her in the hallway, he thought he’d seen two lovers stealing a precious moment alone when he wasn’t around. But after spending a fortnight watching the two of them around each other, he thought that perhaps Arran had been telling him the truth. Every meal, he watched as the two of them sat across from each other, but there were no knowing glances, no palpable tension that he could pick up on. In fact, they never spoke to each other. All conversations took place entirely between Blaire and himself.
And what great conversations they were! He’d never been around a lass that seemed so interested in his stories. She asked questions and listened eagerly, as if savoring everything new she learned about him. Oftentimes he would say something and a look of pure surprise or slight confusion would cross her face, and he immediately saw a glimpse of the ornery child he’d known growing up.
But, she was no longer that child. She was a woman, no denying that, and looked to him more beautiful each time he saw her.
He loved the odd way in which she spoke. Sometimes she said strange words, and her accent often slipped into an odd mixture of Scottish and something he’d never heard. He wondered if she’d spent a lot of time around a foreign nurse growing up, whose influence had shaped the way she said her words. He loved the disjointed sound of it and found himself wanting to listen to it all day.
As he sat down diagonally from her at the large table and looked up at her bright, dimpled smile, he decided it was pointless to remain angry for the sake of his wounded pride. Tonight, he would take the lass somewhere special. Mayhap they both could take a step toward shaping their marriage into what a marriage should be.
Chapter 16
Maybe Mary was right. The thought crossed my mind several times throughout the evening meal. Halfway through whatever strange meat sat before me—I’d stopped asking after about three days—I’d glanced up to see him staring at me in a way that sent an unfamiliar shiver down the back of my neck. At one point, he’d even reached over and squeezed my hand in the middle of one of his stories. The touch was so unexpected, I nearly spit up my food.
He seemed to be in an especially good mood, and it wasn’t until he stopped talking, as if waiting for me to answer a question, that I realized I hadn’t been listening at all.
“I’m sorry. What did ye ask me?” My cheeks suddenly warmed.
“Would ye allow me to take ye somewhere this evening? I’d like to show ye something.” He smiled kindly, and it was shocking to me how his eyes changed depending on his mood. I smiled, unable to hide my flattery at the question. Regardless of how much I wanted to get home, I loved talking to him, and I couldn’t repress the pleasant hum that settled in my stomach at the thought of being alone with him. “I would love to.”
“Aye?” He asked the question as if surprised by my response, but smiled as he stood and offered me his hand.
“Aye.” I extended my hand in his direction, and as he took it I saw Arran rise from the other side of the table and quickly leave the room.
* * *
It didn’t matter that he was drunk. Arran had stayed that way for weeks. He still knew something odd was happening with Blaire. Something had changed between them, and it had nothing to do with the fact that Eoin had caught them in the hallway.
Arran knew she wasn’t avoiding him out of guilt or remorse. In fact, it seemed as if she wasn’t intentionally avoiding him at all. She was behaving as if nothing had ever happened between them, that no love had been shared, no kind words exchanged.
He could tell that Eoin was starting to fall for Blaire, and he couldn’t blame him. She was his wife, after all, and ever since the night he’d released her from the dungeon, she’d been nothing less than kind, enthusiastic, and alive around him.
If Arran wasn’t completely sure that he knew exactly who Blaire really was, he would have found himself charmed by this new ‘Blaire’ himself and been happy that his brother had found himself such a wonderful wife. But, what his brother failed to see was just how different this Blaire was from the one he’d married only a few short weeks ago.
Blaire’s personality seemed to have changed overnight. She was quieter, less feisty, and entirely likeable. One of the things Arran loved most about Blaire was that not everyone found her likeable. But he couldn’t like her more.
Even her voice was different. She said words that had no meaning and mispronounced others that he’d heard her say correctly many times before. She looked at every meal as if she was afraid to eat it, and she’d never seen such fare in front of her before.
But all of those things were nothing compared to what really bothered him about her behavior lately. He knew he’d broken her heart the morning of the wedding. He saw it in her eyes the moment it happened, and he’d felt her pain through every inch of his own heart.
Her behavior was not that of someone who’d just suffered heartbreak. It was the opposite entirely. She smiled and laughed and asked questions like someone who is just at the thrilling beginning of a newfound love.
Perhaps it was all an act. It must be, Arran was sure of it. For, how could she have healed so quickly from the pain that still rendered him senseless? Perhaps she thought to build Eoin’s hopes, only to hurt him as some form of revenge for the hurt that he himself had caused her.
If that was the case, Arran would not let his brother be hurt by the pain he’d caused. Whatever was going on with Blaire, he intended to find out as quickly as possible.
* * *
We made our way to a corner of the castle I’d yet to see in my few weeks here. He stopped at a small door and reached for a lantern before opening the door and moving us into a small winding stairwell.
It was totally dark except for the small flame that flickered each time we moved up the steps together. Eoin didn’t let go of my hand as we moved, and with each step upward our bodies would touch, spreading delicious shocks over my skin.
I couldn’t see the top landing, so when Eoin stopped and faced me I continued to try and walk up the next step. As I rose, I bumped our chests together and whacked the top of my head hard against the bottom of his chin. I yelped at the impact and nearly teetered off the top landing, but was gathered in close by Eoin’s quick hands.
“Ach, lass. Ye’ve got a hard head. Do ye see any of my teeth lying around? I think ye might have rattled some loose.”
He removed his left hand from my lower back and reached up to rub his chin. I laughed and bent my head in shame, my forehead delicately touching his chest. He surprised me by pulling me closer to him
and wrapping both arms around me. He gently kissed the top of my head, right on the spot I’d whacked against his chin.
“But, I’m sure my chin wasna so pleasant a feeling on the top of yer head, now was it? Come, lass. Crawl out onto the wall with me.”
He raised a wooden panel at the top of the landing, revealing a small window-like space through which he crawled. Once on the other side, he reached his hand through the opening to assist me. I grabbed his hand and, with my free one, hiked up the back of my dress and rather ungracefully made my way out onto the wall.
“Come and sit out on the ledge, I willna let ye fall.” I watched as he made his way over to the edge of the wall that surrounded the back side of the castle. Deftly, he jumped up onto the stone wall and sat, letting his legs hang freely off the edge.
Seeing that his eyes were turned away as he stared out at the ocean, I quickly hiked up the bottom of my dress so that I could leap up onto the edge, and sit down beside him before he turned back to see how unladylike I really was.
“Well, I’d meant for ye to see the stars, lass, but as ye can see, there’s no so much to look at tonight. Looks like a storm’s headed this way.”
The sky was black, and there were storm clouds rolling, as if following the waves that crashed up onto the shore below us.
The wind was blowing hard, and the sound of the wind mixed with the harsh sound of water smashing against the rocks was oddly beautiful.
We sat there silently for some time. The wind chilled me so that I shivered beneath the thick dress that covered all of my body, but I was unwilling to say anything, not wanting to shatter the moment. A closeness between us hung heavy as we shared the long silence, listening to the water crash on the rocks and the distant sound of thunder over the horizon. I felt as if I’d known him for a long time, rather than the few short weeks I’d spent here at the castle.