"Come with me," he grumbled, beginning to walk away without even checking if she was following. She ran to catch up with his long strides, needing to hold up her skirts so that she did not trip.
"Where are we going?" she asked as he walked ahead swiftly, leading them.
"To get a carriage, or would ye suggest we walk?" he asked with more sarcasm than was necessary.
She stayed quiet, following him to the stables where he ordered an open carriage for them. As the stable boy got busy, he came to stand beside her with his arms folded over his chest.
"I'm only doin' this because William asked me to," he said.
She said nothing in response and stayed quiet even as they rode out of the castle grounds. She had no idea where they were going, but she was not going to ask him. Although they sat side by side, it felt like there was a brick wall between them.
He was focused on driving the carriage and did not seem keen to break the silence. With that, she chose to ignore him and instead enjoy the scenery. Despite his offhanded treatment, it appeared he was still considerate of her as he had brought an open carriage, which allowed her to see everything they passed. She was grateful for his decision, although she wasn’t sure if he had done it for her, or if it was just a coincidence. Everything looked like a painting. The sky was the bluest she had ever seen, and the green plains stretched as far as she could see to join the mountains and entangle with the clouds.
She leaned back against her seat with her head facing the side. The Highlands were beautiful, like a fairy tale. She could almost see fairies dancing in the grass.
So this is my new home. It's not so bad.
England was far behind her now, she realized. Somehow she did not feel homesick even when she thought back to her life before she came to the Highlands. She did not have anything she missed. Most of her time had been spent sitting beside her window in her father's manor reading and looking out the window at the peach tree in the garden.
She had no friends that she would miss. She was too stubborn, right from her childhood — a trait her father said she inherited from her mother who had died in childbirth. She knew many young Ladies and Lords but befriended none. None of the Ladies had enough fight in them, and the Lords were all entitled and spoiled little boys who grew up to become the same as young men.
Although she did not have anything she wanted out of life in particular and had accepted that she would do as her father asked, she did not glorify her situation the way that other Ladies did. She always stood up to the Lords, even when they were young and the boys tried to bully her. She was always clever with words and had sent them running away crying several times while the other girls had simply cowed to whatever the boys wanted.
As they got older, the Ladies prided themselves in being called on by a young Lord to go out for a ride. A few of them had tried it with her, but she had been unimpressed. Somehow she found no romance in a man ordering her to go out with him. She had been told that she would find no one to marry her after rejecting a particularly whiny young Lord. Perhaps it was true since her father had sent her out of England to find a husband.
She wondered if the fact that she thought herself better than the other Ladies made her hypocritical. She did not see why they were so malleable, falling to the will of everyone with the slightest authority over them, including their brothers. And yet they spoke so haughtily at tea parties and balls, bragging about their lives as though they had something to be proud of.
Her father said she had taken after her mother many times, although he was always grumbling when he said so. She wished that she had been able to meet her mother, maybe then she would understand herself better. She wondered if her mother would have been happy to send her away from England, especially since it was evident that she would never be accepted.
If she was honest, her lot wasn’t bad. Although she had been sent away from home to a land where people hated her just because she was English, the man she was marrying was handsome, responsible, and kind. He was also a Laird, which would make her a Lady once they were married.
The only person that she was leaving behind was her father, and he was barely home in the first place. Not having anything to look back at or miss meant that she could easily accept the change. She was no coward and would make the best of what she had been given.
“You can put that stubbornness of yours to good use now and make the best of your new home,” her father had said before she left. He knew her quite well, and that was why he was able to give her away to William. He knew that she would quickly adapt.
As they continued to ride, she began to notice the scenery changing. It looked like they were arriving at a village. She realized that she had been lost in her thoughts for a long time and turned to Alastair in question, but he said nothing. She looked around as they entered the village. It was midday, so the village was bustling with people. Alastair stopped the carriage at an inn, and they alighted.
He paid the innkeeper, and their carriage was taken away. She figured that he wanted her to walk around in the village with him, so when he motioned that she should follow, she did so.
The people walked around them, busy and unbothered by their presence. Women carried baskets of fish against their hips with their children trailing after them and playing with each other. Those who were not on the streets were in front of their homes, washing clothes or drying meat. Young men were out as well, most of them in nothing but their kilts toiling under the sun as they built different structures.
Why are they building so much? Are there not enough houses?
She glanced over at Alastair, wondering if she should ask him. They passed two soldiers, and the men saluted Alastair, only briefly glancing at her with a hint of curiosity before moving on. It seemed, as the right-hand man to the Laird, he was familiar with the clan's soldiers.
As they continued to stroll through the village, Jane took notice of her surroundings. There were no horses in the streets as in her village back in England. Even the soldiers were on foot. It seemed all the horses were in the stables, and as such, the village was somewhat cleaner. It was not a very large village, so it made more sense to walk than to ride, especially since there were so many children on the road.
The second thing she noted was that the deeper they walked into the village, the more destroyed buildings she saw. It looked like there had been a fire that had spread to most of the buildings. She then understood why so many young men were about trying to build new ones.
The last thing she noted was that there weren't many men old enough to be fathers and husbands. The oldest men looked to be in their late twenties at most. She wondered what calamity the people here had faced. They were healing; anyone who visited them could see it as clear as day. The wound seemed to be very old, but it must have been significant, since the people had not yet recovered. She glanced at Alastair again, wondering if she should ask, but he was already looking at her.
He looked away when she caught his gaze and picked up the pace, heading away from the crowds and the buildings to the plains beside the village where a small hill loomed. She frowned to herself, thinking about what a terrible job he was doing of showing her around. Usually, guides were chatty, explaining everything. They climbed the hill, and when he sat, she followed suit, lowering herself tentatively to sit beside him on the grass. She hugged her knees to her chest, placing her chin on them.
They could see most of the village from their perch, and she imagined growing up in a village like that. She just knew that the hill would have been her favorite place, far away from everyone else, yet close enough that she could see them.
"Dae ye have any questions about the village?" Alastair asked, surprising her with his sudden question.
Oh, so he was going to try to be a proper guide? It did not seem like it from the expression he was wearing. She stammered for a moment before getting her words out.
"Oh, um, yes. Did a fire occur in this village? There are so many burnt down buildings.
Also, why does the village not have any older men? Where are the women's husbands?" she asked.
For once, he was not looking at her with anger, but somehow it was worse, as his expression was blank, and his eyes were without emotion.
"Well, at least ye are observant," he muttered as though he had not expected her to notice anything. Jane frowned but she said nothing in response, waiting for him to answer her questions
"This village was one of those in the clan that was hit the hardest by the Jacobite rebellion," he said, his voice dull.
Jane blinked. She knew a little about the war from her father. The Scots had been drawn into an English war and had borne the brunt of it.
"Many men died in the war, and those who didnae were pursued back to the village and murdered by vengeful enemies. English enemies," he looked directly into her eyes as he spoke.
"Fire was set to the village, and even now, after ten years, the people are still rebuildin'. The damage has been done, however. Several women were made widows and children left without faithers."
Jane swallowed with some difficulty and looked back at the village. She understood William at that moment. She could imagine why the people would not be very keen on an English woman marrying their Laird.
She felt sad for all they had faced but at the same time deeply respected them. In the face of everything they had gone through, they picked themselves up and went on with life.
"The people are strong, stronger with William leadin' them. It was nae easy puttin' the village back together again, especially since after it happened, all that was left of the village was ashes, and women and children, but William never gave up. He was but a lad himself at the time, but his faither had given him the task of helpin' the villages. Even now, he continues to work hard so that all his people are well," Alastair praised.
Jane saw the passion in his eyes as he spoke. It was evident that he was loyal to his people and William.
"I understand why you hate me now. I'm sorry for judging you and all I have said to you so far," she conceded quietly.
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Shona Thompson is an American based author of Historical Scottish Romance. She spent her student years in the majestic city of Edinburgh, where she fell in love with the history, the legends and the people of Scotland.
Her own Highlander husband was the one who inspired her and awoke her passion of writing. He became her muse, and all her love stories are dedicated to him.
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Highlander’s Veiled Bride: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance (Highland Seductresses Book 2) Page 29