Betrothed to the Beast

by Elina Emerald

  “Morag the healer?”

  “Aye. She believes my da to be a Norseman though she never met him and my ma was most likely a slave from far off land where the skin is darker than most.”

  “That would explain your slight accent tis subtle but still there. Do you remember any of your kin when you were a bairn?”

  “Most of it was a blur but I remember sitting atop the shoulders of a gigantic man with long golden hair and he spoke a language I used to know but have forgotten now. I still hope that someday my kin will return for me, but I know this cannot be. They obviously did not want me to begin with, why would they want me now?”

  Amelia noticed Orla staring into the distance out the window, a look of longing upon her face. Amelia understood the feeling well, although she was fortunate, she had her mother and knew who her father was, that yearning to find a place to belong was a void difficult to fill. She spoke before she thought better of it.”

  “I lost my ma when I was fifteen summers, before she died, she told me I had kin here in the Highlands. I hope someday I will find them. It is as if something has been missing, not knowing who they are.”

  Orla nodded in understanding.

  “Orla would you like to be my lady’s maid?”

  “I would love it above anything else …”

  “Then tis done.”

  “Where do you stay? in the castle?”

  “I stay in the cottages in the wood with Morag I help her when I can.”

  “Morag lives in the woods?”

  “Aye mistress she prefers it that way to commune with nature.”

  “I think it is time I went to meet her for I have missed the woods a great deal, will you take me to her after breakfast.”

  “Of course.”

  After breakfast in the Great Hall, Amelia sat with her mother-in-law Jonet and a very silent Sorcha. Both women smiled, then continued eating quietly. Amelia could not help but grimace at Jonet’s porridge. It looked terrible and had an unpleasant odour. She made a mental note to find out if there was any way she could improve Jonet’s diet, for it did not look like it tasted any better.

  Amelia noticed Beiste had not appeared, but then a lot of his men were also missing. She was to find out later that the men had already broken their fast as they had an early ride out to a neighbouring clan for trade. It embarrassed Amelia that she had to learn of her husband’s movements from everyone else except the brute in question.

  Donning a decent dress for the first time in her life, she fashioned a head scarf and was out the door with Orla sleeves rolled up ready to start her day.

  ***

  Amelia meets the Oracle

  Amelia followed Orla to her grandmother’s cottage. Orla chatted the whole way, pointed out things around the village as they entered the entry to the woods.

  Amelia noticed there was a guard not far off who started following her. His name was Alasdair she’d met him before and knew he was on duty to make sure she did not get into any mischief or run away. Huh, as if she had any inclination to. As they made to enter the woods, Alasdair said, “Mistress I would advise against going too far from the Keep, where is it you wish to venture?”

  “She is going with me to see Morag…”

  “You go to see the Oracle?”

  “Aye.”

  Alasdair stared for a while at both women and nodded his head, but this time he walked in front of them with a hand to his sword scouting out the territory and they trailed behind.

  Amelia was even more intrigued, but she followed behind while she and Orla chatted quietly on. It amazed her at how much knowledge Orla possessed about almost everything. They had said she was usually silent, but Amelia had always observed the quietest ones were usually the most observant. Yes, she was even more certain that she had chosen well, making Orla her lady's maid. The woman was knowledgeable, informative but also knew when to be quiet and just observe. Amelia grew to like her nature even more. It was usually the people who lived on the edges of society who would glean the most information. And Orla showed no reluctance in sharing as much with Amelia as she could.

  It took only a brief walk over a crest and they could see a small cottage with smoke coming from the chimney. Amelia saw it and thought it looked quaint. Although she felt a chilled wind rake the back of her neck, which had her shivering for a moment, then she shook it off and continued to walk. To her surprise, the door opened, and Amelia could see inside an older woman sitting at a table. Alasdair stepped through first, looked around, greeted the old woman then ventured outside and ushered Amelia and Orla inside whilst still looking around the woods. Amelia smiled and greeted the old woman expecting someone to be behind the door, but there was no one. She shivered slightly again but deferred to Orla to make the introductions. Before anything else could be said the old woman stood up with a wizened voice that seemed much younger and smoother than her years…

  “Hello child, you are late.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I had expected you a lot sooner.”

  “Well, I only just learned you were Orla’s grandmother this morning and I…”

  “Ah but I have known of you a verra long time my dear.”

  “I suppose so. I would like to thank you for the rose honey.”

  “No need to thank me, child. I kenned you would have need of it, eventually.”

  “But how did you know it would be me and not my sister who would marry the Chieftain?”

  “Sometimes I just see what I’ see and I act on it.”

  Orla walked towards Morag and kissed her cheek. She bade Amelia to sit down while she got busy brewing tea.

  “Come now Ma, my new mistress visits with you stop speaking in riddles or you’ll chase her away,”

  The old woman clucked her teeth at her adoptive daughter, but Amelia could see it was done affectionately. There was a lot of love between them.

  “Vera well. I am glad you have made my girl your maid. You’ll find her knowledgeable of the ways of the Keep and the people in it, she’ll become a greater asset to you than you will ever ken.”

  “But how did you ken I only met her this morn?”

  “Och child, pay attention and you too will ken things before others do.”

  “Ma you are doing it again.” Orla said and rolled her eyes.

  “Och, go on with you and stop harassing an old woman.”

  Amelia sat and chatted more, she already felt at home in this little cottage and with the warm brew starting to warm her belly she relaxed. They talked of many things when Morag suddenly gripped Amelia’s arm and spoke with an otherworldly voice, “Your kin will come for you, keep watch for evil has already arrived.” She let go of Amelia’s hand and continued chatting as if nothing had happened. Amelia just froze not quite knowing what to make it. Why would the Dunbar’s come for her? She leaned back and resumed her calm composure she was starting to wonder if Morag really was, a witch.

  ***

  Chapter 13

  Rules of engagement

  For several days Beiste continued to treat Amelia with a distance and a coldness during the day she still could not understand. However, they still shared the same chamber at night. She had tried to sleep in her own bed to give him his own space, but Beiste just carried her back to their bed. That was the strange thing. For all the distance and coldness, he displayed towards her during the day, the nights were the complete opposite. She knew at some point they would need to talk about it, until then she would go on undeterred.

  It was a beautiful day and Amelia and Orla headed out to an abandoned cottage not too far from the Keep but also close enough to the woods where she could forage. Dalziel had mentioned to her the cottage was available if she wanted to move some of her herbs and seedlings there, and she had been grateful for his thoughtfulness. Beiste had also taken to sending two men with her everywhere she went so they could guard and assist if she needed any help. She had Donald and Fergus guarding her this day.

  Amelia was busy plan
ting her herbs while Orla sat close, sharing all the Keep gossip and fashioning a bow out of sinews for her steel head arrows. Amelia had discovered that Orla was quite a skilled bowyer. She had apprenticed with the local bowyer and was fashioning a bow for Amelia.

  Amelia with the help of Donald had already cordoned off sections of the garden for distinct types of plants. Fergus would not have a bar of it. He kept watch and did not budge from his post.

  While Amelia was digging, she saw Sorcha standing nearby watching.

  “Come, you are always welcome here sister. Do not be afraid.”

  Sorcha nodded, then gently made her way to her. Amelia could see she was still uncomfortable around her but rather than push she kept talking and continued planting flowered seeds, taking them out of the small containers she had fashioned out of bracken.

  “Now this plant here is Herb Robert, we use it for sickness and helps control bleeding. And over there are stinging nettles, when they are dried and mixed with other plants they make a soothing tea that can help ease pain. And here is yarrow, it helps bleeding on the inside.”

  Sorcha looked as if an unknown world opened for her as she stared at the array of plants and seeds.

  “Would you like to help me?” Sorcha’s face immediately lit up, and she nodded profusely with an even bigger smile, eager to learn. Soon Sorcha was planting and digging alongside Amelia.

  “Sorcha can I ask you has anyone tried to communicate with you beyond hand gestures.”

  Sorcha shook her head. “Would you like me to teach you a way?” Amelia whispered quietly to her. Sorcha nodded. “All right but it must be our secret.”

  That afternoon, in the guise of gardening, Amelia taught Sorcha how to read and write. Starting with letters in the dirt. Amelia had yet to tell Beiste of her skill, but in time she would.

  ***

  Beiste and Brodie stood atop the hill on horseback, staring down at the cottage. Beiste did this several times a day, just seeking her out, making sure she was all right and safe. Seeing her with his sister made his heart feel light. That she would take the time with Sorcha when others had no patience. His decision to wed her seemed a good one.

  Brodie broke his reverie, “She is good with her.”

  “Aye she is.”

  “You are a lucky man to find a kind wife, she has a gentleness about her that Sorcha responds to, even Jonet seeks her out whenever she is around.”

  “She has been a boon for both of them.”

  “I dare say she has been a boon for you too.”

  Beiste said nothing. He did not want to admit out loud how glad he was that he had married her instead of her Mary.

  “So why don’t you just go say hello instead of stalking her from afar?”

  “I do not stalk me wife.”

  Brodie chuckled, “Whatever you say …”

  “I do not!”

  “Then why do you insist we ride up here every day at the same time and do nothing else but stare at that patch of dirt she calls a garden?”

  Beiste scowled, ‘Shut up you idiot, I never asked you to come with me.’

  “Aye you do” Brodie mimicked Beiste’s deep gruff voice “Brodie we need to ride to the ridge so I can stalk my bonnie wife imagining all the different ways I can lick her sweet–” He didn’t finish that sentence because without warning Beiste knocked him off his horse, Brodie hit the grass with a loud thud and howled with laughter.

  Beiste rode passed him and muttered, “Fucking prick.”

  Brodie chuckled, picked himself up, dusted himself off then walked towards his horse. When he had mounted, his eyes were drawn back to the scene below and in particular to Orla.

  Orla the Orphan, the bane of Brodie’s existence. She was a beauty. It was such a pity she detested him so much. He wondered what it would be like for her to look at him with something other than derision. Brodie shook his head, why the devil did he care, she was a nobody, a no one. He told that lie to himself daily.

  ***

  It was at the Evening meal that night in the Great Hall, when Amelia noticed something interesting about Ranalf. He kept staring at Orla like he was ravenous and she a succulent piece of venison. The intensity was there. Amelia also noticed Deidre trying hard to get his attention wearing a low-cut gown, making sure her bosoms would brush across his arm as she served wine to the guards and retainers. Ranalf seemed oblivious. Never taking his gaze off Orla.

  So, that was why Deidre did not like Orla because Deidre wanted Ranalf and he wanted Orla.

  Amelia wondered whether Orla had feelings for Ranalf? She was still staring when Beiste turned her head and planted a searing kiss on her lips, “Stop looking at Ranalf or so help me I will run him through, you are mine.” His eyes were blazing.

  “I was not staring.” she retorted outraged, and he turned away and ignored her, speaking to Dalziel instead.

  Honestly, Amelia was getting a sore neck from his constant mood swings.

  Beiste sat quietly listening to Dalziel, yet he was aware of everything regarding his wife. He was not jealous, he never got jealous of a woman, but if she looked at Ranalf one more time, he would throw her over his shoulder and march her back up to their chambers.

  Amelia continued to watch Orla and saw Ranalf finally make his move to sit next to her. Orla smiled up at him and they both started a conversation. Amelia heard a cup slam down hard onto the table from opposite side. It was Brodie glaring at Orla. He did not look happy at all. What was that about?

  Brodie stood and moved towards Orla and Ranalf he gave some command and Ranalf did not look happy, but he turned to Orla said something to her and then walked out of the Hall. Brodie then walked back to the dais, not saying a word. Orla just watched him with confusion, then looked at Amelia.

  What was wrong with the absurd men in this Keep?

  ***

  Alone again

  It was difficult to understand what had changed between them since the wedding but in the first month of their marriage something had transpired between the Chieftain and his new wife and people were noticing a distance growing between them which was becoming the talk of the Keep. It saddened Amelia that once again she felt destined to belong nowhere. Beiste seemed to behave even more detached. If they passed each other in the Keep, he would barely even acknowledge her. His ardour for her at night remained strong, in fact they had not spent a single night apart but even that was wearing thin. Maybe men were different, they could separate the physical from the emotional, Amelia was discovering she could not. She had become less responsive to his touches, and she feared in time they would not even share their nights. Beiste, she had to admit, had the ability to hurt her deeply, and she knew not how to protect herself from the pain.

  And so, it was one morning after Beiste had left their bed after nary a word that Orla had tried to explain some of what she knew of the Beiste.

  “Do not worry overmuch Amelia, from what I see he is very much enamoured with you. Tis just the way of men. They are often idiots of the first order.”

  “It still hurts though. I just wish I knew how to break through whatever this need is he has for distance? I do not mean to be a clingy wife, but we could achieve so much more if we agreed.”

  “I know tis not my place but tis rumoured he still mourns his first wife. Mayhap tis what plays on his mind? Most people ken he became a lot harsher after that. Tis why he never let the thing with Elora go any further.”

  “Elora?”

  “Oh, mistress forgive me I did not mean to bring that up it just slipped… it went nowhere.”

  “Please tell me Orla, what of him and Elora? I know she always gives me dagger eyes whenever she sees me.”

  “I tell you this so you know not to trust some women here. A year after the old mistress passed, the Beiste kept to himself never dallied though many women tried. Tis rumoured he must have missed his wife something fierce. Then one night he caved and took Elora as his lover. She waited for him in his bed naked to entice him out of his celib
acy.”

  Amelia did not like the thought of that, she wanted to scratch the woman’s eyes out.

  Orla continued, “But the affair was short lived, and he never returned to her bed or anyone else’s again. Elora believes she still has a hold over him but from what I’ve seen mistress there is no way, definitely not since he took you as his wife.”

  Amelia felt bereft, and she did not know why. She a daughter of a Leman should have prepared for something like this, but it still stung being the woman who was the wife and had no real claim to her husband. She had to compete with a dead wife he still loved and a past lover who still hovered about the place like a bad smell. Amelia knew things had to change between them she would confront this matter head on.

  That night when Beiste quietly came to her Amelia made sure she was sitting by the fire. She wanted to talk to him and lay some ground rules of what she needed. Not this coldness between them. Suffice to say it did not go well.

  “Husband we need to talk, please.”

  “I would prefer we do things other than talk.”

  “I need to know why the cool indifference towards me?”

  When Beiste realised, he would not get his way so easily, he lashed out.

  “Because wife, If I had my choice I would not marry at all so soon after losing a wife.” She flinched at the accusatory tone. “My hand was forced, and I admit so was yours.” Beiste tried to remain calm, he could not think properly, he had had a bad day and just wanted to lose himself inside his wife. It was the only peace he found. “I think though if you tamed your tongue and curved your temper, we could get on well with mutual respect for the purpose of producing my heirs.” He bit out.

  “What am I to expect from you in return when you want nothing to do with me during the day?”

  “I will protect and provide for you as my wife and I expect us to couple often but beyond the bed chamber we would not have to spend too much time together. You will respect me in public and in front of my men and I will do the same.”

  “Those are your rules?”

  “Aye they are. Follow those boundaries and we will get on well. Otherwise I answer to no one, I do as I please.”