Page 10 of Bride takes a Scot (Highland Vows & Vengeance #1)

I sabella would never get used to the cold or the cold-hearted clansmen and women of Clan MacKendrick. She missed Declan but tried her best to fit in and find a way to sway the clan to like her. It all seemed futile because most of the people gave her looks of disdain and wouldn’t speak to her. And Declan’s family still avoided her, even though she tried to be amiable. For nearly a sennight, she ate alone and spent time walking about the walls in reflection of how she found herself so far from home and isolated.

On her morning walk to Marian’s, she stopped and picked up a loaf of bread for the aged woman. She’d done so each day for the past sennight in hopes of winning her favor. At least Marian appreciated the kindness and thanked her even if the bread remained uneaten. Isabella suspected Marian wouldn’t dare eat anything given to her from a Sassenach , as Marian had put it. She knocked on the door to Declan’s grandmother’s cottage and waited.

“She is not there, Milady,” a soldier said as he passed by.

Isabella called after him, “Do you know where she is?”

“Aye, by the loch.”

She opened the door to the cottage and set the loaf of bread on the table next to the other uneaten loaves. After she left, she headed toward the loch, and on her approach, she saw Noah trying to yank his arm from his grandmother’s hold. He was being an imp, as usual, and she almost smiled.

“Ye needs a bath, lad,” Marian said and tried to pull him toward the water, but the lad dug in his heels. He tried to thwart her, but the old woman wasn’t having it. “Ye are as filthy as a pig in mud. How long has it been since ye bathed?” Her question went unanswered.

Isabella hurried forward and knelt on the sandy bank in front of Noah. “Cease now.”

Noah straightened up and stopped trying to yank his arm from his grandmother’s hold.

“I vow he is as hard to bathe as a wily cat. I cannot get him in the water.”

“I shall try. Go on and return to your cottage and I’ll bring him after I get him to bathe.”

Marian snickered. “I doubt ye can, lass. Och, I shall go.” She headed back to the trail by the tree line and left them.

Isabella continued to kneel before Noah and took hold of his chin so he would look at her. Fear showed in his gaze, and she was saddened that such an emotion troubled him. What was worse, though, was that Noah couldn’t put voice to his troubles. She mouthed her words slowly in hopes that he would understand what she was saying. “There…is…no… reason…to…fear.”

Noah bobbed his head and pointed at the water. After what Declan had told her about his wife’s death and that the lad had been scarred by the event, she grasped why he feared to be there and why he wouldn’t bathe in the loch. Somehow, however, she had to convince him the water wouldn’t hurt him.

She pulled him to sit with her on the bank and they faced the water. After a moment, she bade him to look at her again by turning his chin. “Let me get you clean. You won’t have to go in the water if you don’t want to.” Isabella held up her hand to show she promised.

He nodded and Isabella found the bucket Marian must have brought. Inside she discovered a lump of soap, and a larger cloth with which to dry his body, along with some clean, folded clothing. She took a cloth and soap from it and set it by the water’s edge. Then she helped Noah to undress. After, she wet the cloth and soaped up his body hastily. He stood silent, watching the water as if it would somehow get him. When she finished washing him, she used the bucket and gently poured water over his head and skin to remove the soap until he was finally clean. How innocent he appeared. Even though he was seven in years, he appeared much more tender of an age.

After, she helped to dry and dress him. When he was fully clothed, she ran her fingers through the long locks of his hair and tickled him. Her playfulness gained a smile from him. If she could find a pair of shears, she would trim his hair, but she would have to ask Marian if she had any. Smiling, she helped him wrap the thin tartan layer over his body and secured it with a small length of rope.

When she finished, she gathered the bathing items into the bucket. Isabella held out her hand and hoped he would take it. Instead, he turned and fled. The lad ran fast and even though she tried to catch up to him, he was nowhere to be seen when she left the tree line that surrounded the loch. Where had he run off to and why so fast?

Isabella muttered to herself, “Well, at least I bathed him, and he’s now clean.”

She continued onward on the lane and reached Marian’s cottage. The door was open, so she stepped inside. Setting the bucket by the door, she approached the woman who sat in an uncomfortable-looking chair by the window. “I was able to bathe Noah, but he fled after.”

Marian pointed to the corner. “He came but a moment ago.”

“There you are, Noah!” He sat on the floor and played with the string and rocks.

She approached and squatted down to his level and smiled. He didn’t look at her. Instead, he shimmied away.

Isabella had hoped he would be used to her by now. For five days, she had come each morning and tried to persuade him to join her outside. She wanted to spend time with him, but the lad was wary, and with good reason she supposed. Each night she tried to think of fun games to play with him, but he never allowed her to entertain him.

She stood then and noticed Marian had dozed off in her chair. Isabella said nothing as she went about tidying up the cottage. She made their beds, folded clothing, piled the unclean garments by the door, and straightened up the kitchen area, ending the tasks by setting the small kettle on the fire to heat. The whole time, Noah continued to play by himself in the corner.

Her work done, she knelt next to him and hummed a tune she’d learned when she was little. The lad watched her intently with a frown. Isabella placed his small hand on her throat so he could feel the vibration of her voice. Soon, she bellowed the song and Noah’s eyes widened and his smile grew.

Marian briefly opened her eyes and scowled at them for their antics before closing them once more.

As the old woman’s snores filled the cottage, Isabella finished the song, took hold of his hand, and squeezed it. He smiled at her and for the first time since she arrived, Isabella felt as though she’d made a difference in his life. Since Marian continued to slumber, Isabella took Noah outside. The day had warmed, and it was the perfect time of day to find something fun to do. With the sun overhead, most of the children played outside.

She ambled along the lane toward the merchants and saw Silas, Declan’s stepbrother, speaking to one of the soldiers. He made her uncomfortable with his leering smiles, so Isabella turned to avoid him. He called after her. She stopped and turned back because even though he made her skin crawl, she couldn’t be rude to her husband’s brother. After all, it could just be her imagination that he was looking at her in a less-than-brotherly way. Her primary focus had to be getting along with Declan’s family. Silas stepped to them and frowned down at Noah. Isabella felt the tenseness in the little boy’s hold before he pulled away and made a strange sound in his throat. With that, Noah sprinted away to race back into his grandmother’s cottage. Isabella wanted to go after Noah, but Silas blocked her path and wouldn’t let her pass.

“Milady Isabella, you should not encourage the lad. He’s naught but a simpleton. Ye have better things to do with your time,” he said in a harsh tone. “…like walk with me by yonder loch.”

Isabella couldn’t help but scowl at the man. “Noah is not a simpleton. You should refrain from speaking so about your laird’s son.”

Instead of appearing mollified by her scolding, Silas stepped toward her and smiled. “My apologies, Milady. The lad sometimes makes a nuisance of himself, and I detest the thought that ye are spending misguided time with the lad.”

Isabella took a step back. “He is now my son, and I will spend every moment of the day with him if that is what I wish. Do you not have training or something with which to occupy yourself?” She hoped her words reminded him that he had duties and walking by the loch wasn’t one of them. “Don’t you care for your nephew?”

“Aye, I care, mayhap a wee bit more than I should,” he declared, but with an indifferent tone. He shrugged and gave a slight, almost mocking bow. “I will leave ye then.” He didn’t walk off. Instead, he stayed where he was, too close for her comfort and blocking her ability to walk on.

“Good day,” Isabella said and turned her back to him. Declan’s stepbrother annoyed her. She didn’t want to be accusatory toward him, but she read people well. Beneath his overly cordial manner, there was something amiss about him. He wasn’t mean toward her like the rest of the family. Instead, he watched her with his startling eyes and their mocking expression.

She’d suspected the moment she’d met him that he was untrustworthy, and she wondered if Declan thought so too. Isabella decided that she would ask him, albeit discretely, what he thought of Silas. She didn’t want to insult Declan by declaring her distrust of his stepbrother if he harbored good will toward him. Her instincts were typically correct and she knew a snake when she spotted one, at the same time, she was in a new place with people who lived very differently than where she’d been raised. It was possible she was wrong in her assumption of Silas, just as she’d been wrong about Declan.

Isabella returned to the family cottage and changed her garments. She’d become soddened from bathing Noah and dirty from cleaning Marian’s cottage. Now in dry, clean clothes, she entered the main living area and spotted Rhona sitting in a chair by the hearth. It was the perfect time to approach the lass because they were alone, and no others seemed to be inside.

Her sister-in-law appeared pretty in a dark-blue frock and with her blond hair arranged in a bun. There was a stitching of small flowers that bordered the bodice of her dress. Isabella wondered if she’d sewn them.

“Rhona, good day. May I sit with you?” Isabella waited for her sister-in-law to nod, then took the chair closest to her. She placed her hands in her lap and enjoyed the warmth of the hearth’s fire for a moment, before she asked, “So, tell me about this Willeli. Have you always known him?”

The lass set aside her sewing. She stared at her with eyes very similar to Declan’s. Her golden-brown eyes were almost as light as honey, and yet, not as alluring as her husband’s. Rhona shifted forward in her chair. “It is none of your concern.”

Isabella lowered her chin, saddened the lass wouldn’t speak to her. But she wouldn’t give up trying. “I only ask because you seemed upset the other eve when you asked Declan for a decision. You wish to marry this man?”

“It matters not, because my brother will never allow it. There is no sense speaking about it now or ever.” Rhona stood and pressed back the long strand of her blond hair that had become loose from the bun.

“Why won’t Declan allow it?” Isabella asked and stood to block her from leaving.

“He deems Willeli too lowly for me to marry but he is one of our clan’s devoted soldiers.” Her shoulders appeared to sag then as she stared at the floor. “My brother refuses to give a proper reason for his disapproval.” Her voice trembled.

“Would it help if I spoke to Declan for you? I can try to convince him to accept your choice.” She hoped by offering her support, the lass would become more amiable toward her. It was the only way to win her friendship.

Rhona lifted her face to Isabella’s, and she scoffed, “Why would ye do that? I am nothing to ye and ye’re nothing to him. He doesn’t care about ye, or any of us. All he cares about is his precious feud with the Campbells and seeking war with other clans.”

“I don’t believe that to be true, Rhona.” Isabella reached out to set her hand on the lass’s shoulder, but the girl backed away. She let her arm fall by her side. “Since I married your brother, I consider you to be my sister, and I always support my family members.”

Rhona tossed her head and her eyes flashed, though Isabella thought it might be tears causing the effect, and not anger. “I do not want or need your support. My brother will either give his consent or not. He has made up his mind and there is no changing it.” She brushed past her and left the room, her sewing abandoned on her chair.

Isabella stood by the hearth defeated, knowing it would take much more than a short conversation to win over Declan’s sister. But she had to keep trying. Isabella had always wished she had a sister. At home, she had been forbidden to play with the lasses from the village. Her mother had proclaimed they would be an inappropriate influence on her and that she was destined to be a lady and marry a great lord or a man of her station. How wrong her mother had been.

She wanted to be accepted by Declan’s clan, but she continued to feel like an outsider. As she was about to leave and return to her bedchamber, Helena strolled into the room, carrying a large pot.

“Ye need to keep your nose out of other people’s concerns. I heard ye speaking to Rhona. She’s a meek lass with simple ideas in her head. Her laird knows what’s best for her. Ye have no right to interfere in his matters that do not concern ye and I mean to tell Declan so when he returns,” Helena scorned as she passed by.

Isabella shook her head in disbelief at the woman’s words. “I don’t deem that to be true, Lady MacKendrick. Declan values my input.” Though she was unsure if that was true, she wouldn’t let her husband’s stepmother believe otherwise. “Rhona is an intelligent lass, and she should have a say in who she marries and her future. I certainly didn’t.”

“Och, well, I suppose your parents were pleased to be rid of ye since you are past the marriage age. Your king did ye a service and ye are fortunate to be married to Declan. ’Tis much like ye are not married at all for the amount of time he spends here. Declan did not want to marry, and now, he is saddled with the likes of ye. Ye are free, lass, to do as ye please. Perhaps ye should take a lover akin to Silas and find yourself some pleasure because ye shall likely get none from my stepson.”

She tried to follow along with the woman’s harsh ramble and heavy accent. What was she telling her? As if she would be unfaithful to Declan. And with Silas? Why in the world would Helena make such an insinuation? Perhaps Isabella wasn’t so off with her assessment of the man.

Either way, Isabella didn’t agree with her view at all. She missed Declan and hoped he returned home soon. Even though her husband hadn’t wanted or planned to marry her, Isabella was certain he was happy now that the deed was done. He’d practically told her so when they were last together.

“Whilst your husband is gone, I suggest ye make yourself busy if ye do not deem to take a lover. There is much that needs doing here, and I suppose ye will be as good as a scullery maid.”

Since she’d been young enough to attend to chores, her mother had insisted that she learn how to properly clean and tend to household matters to better understand how a home was cared for. Performing such tasks didn’t bother Isabella because it had kept her busy and she was able to be around the younger maids.

The woman’s haughtiness, though, bothered her. Instead of rebuking her for calling her a scullery maid, she took a deep breath and squeezed her hands closed. “I would be pleased to help in any way you deem so, My Lady.”

“See Edith and she shall put ye to work for I am busy enough with my own chores.”

Dismissed, Isabella couldn’t escape fast enough. She hurried out the back of the cottage and crossed the path to the kitchen and servant quarters. With a knock, she then opened the door and found Edith humming over a large pot, hanging over the fire. She startled as the door opened.

Isabella reached out a comforting hand. “Good day, Edith. Lady MacKendrick said you needed help and bade me to offer my aid to you. I’m here to lend a hand.”

Edith gasped and blinked with surprise. “She did? Why in heaven’s name would that wretched woman send me help? She never did so afore—and ye are our laird’s wife. Ye should not be doing common chores. Oh, that horrid woman is scheming, is she not? Come, rest yourself, we shall enjoy a warm drink of mead, and ye can tell me all about yourself.”

A sense of comfort settled over Isabella like a blanket, for it appeared that finally, she’d found a friend. Edith had the softest voice, without a hint of an accent. Her eyes were kind and her smile sure, not at all like most of the women she’d encountered so far in the Highlands. Though the woman had to be at least two score in age, she had no gray hairs mixed in the strands of her light-brown hair that was tied back behind her shoulders. Close enough now to discern, Isabella peered at her ash-brown eyes and smiled at the pleasant woman.

She sat on the stool at the worktable and took the offered cup. The mead tasted sweet and it made her feel as though she was wrapped in the coziness of the kitchen. The maid’s kind words also warmed her, bringing tears to her eyes that she hastily blinked away. “There is not much to tell.”

“Anse said that the king commanded ye to wed our laird. Is that so?” Edith leaned forward in anticipation. There were deep crinkles in the corners of her sparkling dark eyes; this was a woman who smiled often and enjoyed a good story, Isabella could tell.

She nodded. “It was, but I was fortunate Declan selected me. He was the only man who interested me and now I hardly see him. He keeps to himself, and I wish…” It seemed like ages ago since she had her first conversation with Declan. She should refrain from speaking about him to the maid, but she needed to talk to someone about her feelings and the maid seemed caring.

“Aye, ye might not think so now, but give Declan time and he shall grow on ye.”

“He already has. I find him kind—”

Edith chuckled. “He was a much different man when his da and ma were living. Aye, always smiling, always helpful to all. Now he separates himself from everyone except from Anse, but they have been friends since birth. Your marriage is new and ye will love him eventually.”

Isabella snorted at that. “I am fond of him, but I doubt I shall ever love him. Love is for fools. I don’t mean to sound shrewish, and I will respect him, but shall never be so misguided.”

“If ye say so, Milady. Sometimes, lass, a woman has no choice but to give her heart to her man, especially when he needs it.” Edith took an instrument from the table and began to beat a heaping piece of meat that had sat on the worktable. She whacked it so hard the table shook and a bowl which held fruit wobbled. “I understand your notion well, for I was married once a very long time ago to a man by the border. I did not love him. Tell me, do ye come from a large family?”

Edith had lived by the border. Isabella had wondered why she spoke English well and why her accent wasn’t as thick as most of the MacKendricks. Isabella appeased the woman and spoke of her home and family. Just speaking of them made her miss her parents even more. How wrong she had been to want to escape them. At least her family admired her and appreciated her banter and reprimands. Even her mother—though difficult and disapproving—was fond of her, and Isabella even missed her daily lectures. What she wouldn’t give to hear her mother’s reproach now.

Edith set the tool she used down on the table and sat on a stool near Isabella. She handed her a knife and a loaf of bread. “Ye can help but cutting this bread.” She then took another loaf and began to slice it. “Ye were blessed and shall be so again. Give our laird time, lass, and ye shall see. Declan has been brokenhearted and suffered a great deal of pain when his late wife died. Then shortly after, his da passed. He has been in mourning, but alas, ’tis time for him to shake off the cobwebs and rejoin the living. I deem ye shall do well to enliven him.” She smiled and clasped Isabella’s hand. “How could ye not when you are so bonny and spirited.”

“What do you mean spirited?” Isabella hoped she didn’t present a wayward manner.

Edith finished slicing the bread and took an apple from the fruit bowl and began cutting it up. “For the pies I’ll bake later.” She handed her an apple.

Isabella cut up the apple similarly to the way Edith did and placed the pieces in a bowl. They finished the task and she peered about to see what else she could do to help the woman.

“’Tis not wicked to be spirited. I see the liveliness in your eyes, lass. You seek adventure and merriment. Aye, we should all be young and winsome.”

“You are kind, Edith, to say so.”

“Go on, lass, supper is ready and I’ll bring it in shortly.”

Isabella got up from the table and was about to leave when Noah ran through the doorway with tears in his eyes. He rushed to her and sniffled. Isabella noticed the reason for his tears. Noah had a scraped knee, and a thin stream of blood ran down his leg. Isabella lifted him and set him on the stool she had vacated. Edith handed her a cloth which she set over his knee and bade him to hold it by placing his hand there.

With her fingers, she raised his chin and spoke slowly, “Stay here. I will be back.” Isabella then asked Edith to watch him whilst she stepped out. She hurried to her bedchamber, retrieved her medicinal pouch from her satchel, and returned to the kitchen. Noah was still on the stool, looking as hurt as ever with fresh tears running down his cheeks.

She knelt near enough to him and gently wiped the blood from his wound. Soon enough, she had the wound tended to with a soothing salve and a thin bandage covering his knee. He appeared gleeful that he wore the proof of his injury, a badge of honor.

“There,” she said slowly, watching his face for understanding. “You are all better now.” Isabella put the items she’d pulled from her medicinal satchel back inside and pulled the strap over her shoulder.

Edith clasped her hands and raised them to her chest. “Milady, I didn’t know ye were knowledgeable about healing matters. That’s wonderful because our healer, Lillith, lives afar and we sometimes have to wait for her to come and tend to someone.”

“If anyone needs aid, please send for me. I’ve been trained by an old healer and have done so since I was very young. I’d be happy to help anyone in need.”

The maidservant nodded enthusiastically. “I shall, Milady.”

Noah hopped off the stool and wrapped his arms around her body. Isabella was taken aback by his show of affection, but her heart felt ready to burst with happiness. Perhaps there was a chance at winning him over after all. Now if only the rest of the clan followed suit, she might find warmhearted happiness there in the freezing cold Highlands.