‘But I do.’ Bridie said. ‘I thought she’d jut got rid of me, hadn’t wanted me,’ Bridie said, ‘but I do understand the dark place she was in…’
She did.
‘I would never leave Gracie.’ Fiercely she held her daughter to her chest. ‘I would have done anything to keep her yet, when the vapours came, I almost did.’
Yes, she could understand now her mother.
‘I came and helped raise Donalda.’ May explained. ‘Be patient with Donalda, for her mother might just as well have left her behind too that day. We’d never have known about you, but the Glenbarach warrior was ranting when he returned from battle. He said that Lady Glenbarach was being held captive at the McClelland castle, Laird Peter thought he had a fever, but he didnae.’ She took Bridie’s face in her hands. ‘You are a lady born, Lady Bridgette…’
‘Bridgette?’
‘You’d never have been named Bridie.’ She looked over to little Gracie. ‘And whoever came up with the name Gracie…’
‘The Laird did.’ Bridie said, remembering fondly the day Gracie was born, the Laird holding her tiny bairn in his strong arms. ‘I told him she was my saving grace,’ Bridie said. ‘And she was.’
May picked up Gracie and smiled as she looked into china blue eyes and a small piece of her heart was taken. ‘Well whatever they called you,’ she said to a beaming Gracie, ‘you came at the right time.’ May looked over to Bridie. ‘The laird was beside himself, Bridgette. Our traps were empty, the crops had been terrible, things were tough our side of the burn.’ She turned back to wee Gracie. ‘And then you were born and the McClelland Laird was offering hunting rights to Glenbarach and our people were no longer hungry.’ She handed Gracie back to Bridie, but not for long, she told her. ‘We’ve a lot of work to do, but we’re going to do it. You’ll return for the McClelland ball next week and we’ll show them…’
‘No!’ Bridie begged, ‘I cannae sit and watch as the Laird chooses his lady.’
‘You shall.’ May said. ‘People are to see that you’re a proper lady as soon as possible, or there’ll be word getting around that we’re housing a wild animal here in the castle.’ She was back to being stern. ‘And dinnae go getting fancy ideas that the Laird will choose you – you heard the hate in his voice when he told you to leave and it’s bigger than us all.
‘You’re a Glenbarach.’
Chapter Thirteen
If they thought she had suffered as a maid they were wrong, for Bridie suffered far more as they tried to turn her rapidly into a lady.
She was up before the sun and not in bed till long after it set and in the hours between she was taught to walk, to curtsey, to dance, even to eat, for May was shocked when she watched her.
There was so little time though
‘You’re not to speak.’ May shuddered at the prospect. ‘Apart from ‘good evening, Laird,’ which we’ve practiced, you’re not to speak and when you sit…’ May rapped her knees and then her ankles. ‘Och you’re too used to running wild with hardly a thread on your back.’
‘I can’t do it,’ Bridie begged, for she knew full well how foolish she would look at the ball. ‘I can’t dance.’
‘I know that.’ May sighed, for she had seen Bridie’s efforts.
‘She’s going to make a show of us,’ Donalda stood watching.
‘Away, Donalda,’ May said. ‘Dinnae mind her,’ May said. ‘She’ll come around.’
‘She hates me,’ Bridie said.
‘For now,’ May said. ‘She’s not the only lady and…’ She looked at Bridie and sighed, but didn’t elaborate. ‘’Come on…’ May stood. ‘Let’s go again.’
And they danced over and over, around the Grand Room in the Glenbarach Castle. Bridie was twirled till she was dizzy and each and every time she fell down, or went the wrong way, or her ankles would knot and she’d lose her balance.
‘It’s one dance you have to do with the laird.’ May hauled her back to her feet. ‘Surely you can manage one!’
‘He might not ask me.’ It was Bridie’s only hope, but May shook her head.
‘He’d be killed in his sleep for the insult if he didnae.’
Hamish and his men rode alongside the carriage that returned Bridie to McClelland. They were to arrive late afternoon to give them time to prepare and the chosen family could, at the laird’s request, stay overnight, though there was no need to pack for that, Peter had said. Hamish and his men would wait to return them to Glenbarach.
As she saw her beloved McClelland come into view Bridie’s heart leapt in her throat like the salmon in the burn. It was not just nerves that had her jumping in her seat. Nor was it just that she would be seeing the laird - she was desperate to see Mrs Moffat too and Mary, for she hadn’t even been allowed to say goodbye.
‘Slowly.’ May warned as she went to leap down from the carriage and it was a tortuously prolonged walk they took into the castle with Peter, May and Donalda.
They were greeted by the servants for the Laird must not glimpse the ladies afore the ball.
‘Lady Bridgette.’ Mary curtsied and led them to their rooms, all the guests were to be housed in the turrets and they were shown there to prepare. Bridie was led to the room the laird had let her stay in when the vapours had hit and she was so pleased to finally be alone with Mary.
‘Where’s Mrs Moffat?’
‘Preparing for the ball,’ Mary said.
‘Tell her I’m here…’ Bridie begged, but Mary said nothing, she wouldn’t even look at Bridie, in fact, she turned to go. ‘Mary, where are you going?’
‘I’ve got a lot of work to do.’
‘Mary, please!’ Bridie caught her hand. ‘I’m still the same. We can be friends like before.’
‘No we can’t,’ Marry shouted. ‘I want it to be like before but it never can be again- you’re a lady now and a Glenbarach…’ And then it all caught up with Mary and she started to cry, but she wriggled away when Bridie tried to give her a cuddle. ‘Oh Bridie, I miss you so much, Mrs Moffat is in tears every night…’ they stood and wept and Bridie told her she wanted her simple life back, wanted her days to be spent here in McClelland when the highlight of her day was her morning with the laird.
‘Would you want to be taking in breakfast to the laird and Lady Helena…’
‘Is it to be her?’ Bridie asked.
‘So I’ve heard. They’ve lots of land and their clans are strong. Her father’s been here…’ And Mary understood the devastation on Bridie’s face, for her heart was broken also. ‘Angus is to wed soon too.’ Mary’s voice was bleak. ‘He told me this morning. I asked him if he was upset that he couldn’t consider me as his bride.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He laughed.’
‘Oh Mary.’
‘He laughed.’ Mary said again and Bridie went to hug her friend but again Mary moved away. ‘You mind your fine dress.’
There was a rap of the door and Bridie’s prayed it was Mrs Moffat, but it was just Donalda.
‘Have you been crying?’ Donalda frowned, seeing her new sister’s moist eyes.
‘No.’
‘Are you missing Gracie?’ She asked and even if her voice was not gentle her words were very kind. ‘Is it your first night apart?’
Bridie nodded and opening the door further she let Donalda in.
‘I’m sure she’s fine.’ Donalda said. ‘Is it strange to be back?’
‘It is.’ Bridie admitted. ‘And I’m nervous of making a fool of myself tonight.’
‘Och!’ So harsh was her voice that for a second Bridie thought Donalda was waving her fears away. ‘You don’t know what nervous is – I’m always making a fool of myself. You should hear the other ladies having a laugh at me and I’m petrified to dance with Laird McClelland, I know he’s only doing it to be polite.’ Donalda’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I hate these balls. I hate that I’m never chosen.’
And she couldn’t give Mary a cuddle but she gave Donalda one and then Bridie sat on
the bed with her sister and for the first time the two women spoke properly. ‘May’s always telling me to keep my voice down,’ Donalda explained. ‘And that I take too much food.’ And Bridie found out that even if you’d been raised as one, it was hard being a lady at times. ‘She’s always telling me that I laugh too loud, that’s it not pleasing for a man’s ears…’
‘I’ve never heard you laugh.’ Bridie said and then thought for a moment. ‘Maybe you just need a laird that’s a bit hard of hearing.’ And realising that perhaps her honesty was not so welcome amongst the Glenbarachs she went to apologise, except Donalda was laughing and for the first time Bridie heard her. It was as if the bagpipes were in attack and about to settle into playing state but not quite there yet and all Bridie could do was laugh with her. ‘You’ll be fine tonight.’ Bridie said as they wiped their tears and May came to fetch Donalda to prepare. ‘Laird Alasdair is a nice man.’
He was.
Alone for a moment, back in McClelland, Bridie looked out and across the hills, could hear the chi chi churee call of the snow buntings and they were back for the coming winter.
She’d survived the last winter, Bridie realised.
And would survive the next – she’d make sure of it.
No matter how awful tonight, she’d made it through the bleakest of times. She thought of her mother, searching the glens and the loch, running through the mist, still searching perhaps.
‘You can rest now Ma,’ Bridie said.
For her daughter was safe and well.
Bridie looked to the land that she loved and it was time to move on, to put grief, pain and fear forever aside, and look at her life with love. She had so very much to be happy about - a daughter she loved, a family now too and she was a lady. But far more than that she had her time with the laird, a night in his arms, and forever she would remember it.
She just had to get through tonight.
A maid brought with them from Glenbarach sorted her make up and hair and then the door knocked and it was Donalda and May.
‘You look beautiful,’ Bridie said to Donalda, for her dress was lovely, even if it did not much for her figure and her heavy hair was wrapped in a smooth coil but the poor thing was clearly nervous.
‘Time for your dress, Bridie.’
‘Why do we all wear white?’ Bridie asked.
‘So the McClelland plaid will stand out.’ May said as she unwrapped a sheet. ‘The bride will wear have a lovely coloured gown on her wedding day, but for tonight it’s white.’
‘Which is why I’ve never been chosen,’ Donalda said.
Yes, she had a point, for white was not the most flattering of colours with the palest of skins and Bridie slipped hers on still way more used to harsh linen than the feel of pure European silk sliding over her skin.
‘It’s like being under a waterfall,’ Bridie sighed as it slivered down, and then another layer was added and the maid tightened the white velvet bodice at the front and, for the first time ever, Bridie was brought a looking glass.
She’d only seen herself a couple of times – once she’d picked up Lady McClelland’s looking glass but Mrs Moffat had told her to put it down and to not touch the dead’s things and she’d seen her reflection in the loch of course, but she did not recognise it now.
Her hair fell long and gleaming but it had been braided throughout too, and the once knotty curls were sleek and rounded and her eyes seemed huge, her lips did too, for they were painted.
‘If I looked like you,’ Donalda said as they waited for Peter. ‘I wouldn’t be nervous.’
‘If you danced like Bridie,’ May said. ‘You’d be sobbing in your bed.’ She looked to her two nieces, two sisters, both with the same eyes, the same colouring, both similar, yet different and she was fond of them both.
Worried for them too.
And the longer they waited for Peter, the more nervous May got and the more cutting she was as, over and over, she gave her instructions.
‘Bridie, you’re to say as little as possible tonight. If the Laird asks a question, you’re to just give one-word answers. Donalda,’ May said. ‘You’re to keep your voice down and I dinnae want to hear you laughing.’ She stopped delivering instructions for there was a maid at the door, finally telling them it was time to go down. ‘Laird Peter is waiting to present both of you.’
She and Donalda took Laird Peter’s arms and walked into the Grand Room that Bridie herself had helped to prepare for this night. It was lit now by the huge white candles she had so willingly lifted and there were flowers - thistles and heather just as Mrs Moffat had described. There were also small posies of forget-me-knots dotted all around the room and Bridie swallowed down threatening tears, for never would she forget.
And nor would the Laird.
Alasdair stood in his chambers and stared out to the night. Dressed in McClelland tartan, for once clean-shaven his hair was brushed back and gleaming.
He could hear the music and the pipes preparing and it was time to choose his bride.
He walked down the castle steps, past the lanterns and portraits and stepped into the Grand Room and the people bowed and curtsied as he entered.
His eyes did not seek out Bridie, for he had much he must concentrate and get through tonight.
‘Lady Catherine of Donoch.’ The Laird bowed as she curtsied and he took her hand and from the corer of his eye he could see a blaze of red hair that belonged entwined in his fingers. He kept his gaze ahead, focused instead on the lady beside him and the dance ahead, for the reels were long and complicated and it was not Lady Catherine’s fault that he did not want to dance.
And so he was kind to her.
They crossed hands and swooped down the line and under the swords to the claps and cheers as lady after lady danced into his arms and he danced too with Lady Helena and her company was pleasant and she was light on her feet, yet his heart ached for Bridie, or Bridgette as she was now to be called.
For Bridie it was agony, the longest night of her life.
Not once did he look in her direction. She watched him dance and the usually stern Laird was tonight at his charming best, for he smiled as he danced in turn with each lady. Bridie tried to keep her head held high, but it was hard to, especially as whispers reached her ears.
‘She’s so common, did you see the way she lifted her skirt…’ Lady Helena was Bridie’s harshest critic. ‘Clearly he’s putting dancing with her off.’
‘Don’t listen to them.’ Donalda said.
‘I thought ladies were ladies.’ Bridie said.
‘Och no.’ Donalda said. ‘You wait and hear what they say when it’s my turn to dance.’
It was agony. She could hear the harp and the pipes and was struggling not to cry. Worse, the Laird was walking towards her and still not even gracing Bridie with a glance. He bowed to Lady Donalda and she was the next to dance.
Yes, Lady Helena was savage.
Bridie was tempted to take her creamy throat beneath her fingers and silence her as unkind words were said, but May told her to sit up straight and keep looking ahead.
‘A lady never shows emotion.’ May warned as Bridie’s lips snarled, but then softened as she watched for the Laird made Donalda blush and smile, just as he did with each lady he danced with.
He just did not dance with Bridie.
In truth the Laird was worried for her. The dances were intricate, and learned through childhood and so he was waiting for a more simple tune, a reel where he could hold her and finally there was one.
‘Lady Bridgette of Glenbarach…’
For the first time he allowed himself the luxury of properly looking at her and Bridie looked stunning, there were jewels in her ears and at her throat, there was rouge on her lips and cheeks and her huge green eyes could not meet his.
‘Good evening, Laird.’ Bridie said and curtsied, wishing that she was greeting him in the morn, wishing she was walking into his room carrying a tray and not about to dance with Laird and everyone watching.<
br />
Everyone, for even Mary and Mrs Moffat were peeking in.
She felt his hand on her waist and she twirled, and so many times she tripped and he steadied her
‘You’re doing fine.’ He was incredibly patient.
‘I’m not,’ Bridie said to his ear as she passed him.
‘Cross your hands at the wrist and I’ll take them.’
He did everything he could to help her, but there was no such thing as a lady in a week and Bridie knew it. They thundered through the swords and she went to turn to the left, but instead she turned to the right and she was facing him again and it was a whole new dance, for the Laird took her back through the swords to make up for her mistake. She felt his strong hands closed around hers and heart started to thump as the music took to her soul and she was back in the lairds skilled hands, for she was no longer nervous, except it was ending, the music was fading and his duty dance was done.
‘How are things…’ he asked as he escorted her back to her Aunt.
‘Grand.’ She said but one word but then turned to him, turned to the man she had loved, even when she hadn’t known that she did and Bridie could not stay silent as instructed. ‘I’ve been having lessons on how to walk, how to talk, how to stand, how to sit.’
‘It shows.’
And then she met his eyes for the first time that night and, for just a tiny slice of time, it was as if they were lovers again. ‘Though I couldn’t sit down for a full two days, after the skelping you gave me…’
Always she made him smile and it was his first genuine one of the night and there was a swallow in his throat as he remembered that morn, remembered her passionate in his arms.
Bedded by the Laird (Highland Warriors) Page 8