Page 30 of Bride takes a Scot

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. Hemade 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 walkoff. 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 thehearth’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 Ialwayssupport 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.