Page 9

Merryn

Three days after she moved into Duart Castle, Merryn sat at a table in the middle of the great hall, watching the bairns play amid the large arrangement of furs near the hearth.

“They’re fine,” Broc said as he joined her, glancing back over his shoulder at the grouping. Tora and Sylvi were busy playing mother and father to Shealee and Sandor.

“They are. She adjusted quite quickly,” Merryn said with a smile before returning her attention to the handsome man in front of her. “I love seeing her playing with the others. She’s so happy. Fortunately, I don’t think she recalls any of what happened.”

Broc said, “That’s probably best, don’t you think?”

“Aye. Though I wish she would remember Nara. I’ll make sure she knows all there is to know about her mother.”

“You will be a wonderful aunt to Shealee.”

“I hope so. All that I know to do is love her.”

“Talk to Dyna. She’s raised three.”

“I will. She seems so well-adjusted.” Merryn’s gaze drifted to everyone around her.

Living at Duart Castle had turned out to be something entirely different from either of her previous lives.

When her parents had been alive, she’d learned to cook and sew, helping her mother with all the household chores.

She’d helped Nara with the bairn when Kelvan was gone, which was most of the time.

On Mull, she and Olivia and Euna had worked together to make a life for them, cooking and washing, working in the garden, tending to Shealee’s many needs, while the men worked to build the tower and the wall for protection. It was a slow process.

Here at Duart Castle, everything was different.

She’d learned that there were two lairds here—Maitland Menzie and Dyna Grant Corbett.

Eli and her husband Alaric were in charge of the guards.

“Is it usual for a woman to be a chieftain of a clan?” Merryn brought her gaze back to Broc, keeping her voice low so as not to disrupt the bairns and their play. “Are there many others?”

“Diana of Drummond was chieftain of her clan before her sons took over. But most times, they are men.”

Merryn thought for a moment, then said, “That surprises me. I couldn’t imagine being in charge of so much.

” She lifted her gaze, while Broc fussed over what he had in front of him.

She could stare at Broc all day. His blue eyes mesmerized her, the silver flecks that danced letting her know when he was serious or when he was jesting about something.

He loved to jest. He had a small imperfection on his cheek, but she hardly noticed it because his looks were far more appealing than any other man she’d ever met.

He grinned, catching her off guard. “You’re staring, lass. I think that’s a good thing. Is there a bug crawling across my face that you wish to crush with a slap?”

She laughed, so glad that he hadn’t tried to embarrass her but instead resorted to humor.

“Nay, no bug. It’s just that … Life is so different here.

I’ve never been around so many people, and mostly, not this close to a man.

” She had the undeniable urge to touch him, so she reached out. “Do you mind?”

“Nay.” Broc’s smile disappeared and he had a look of uncertainty about him.

“Your beard. I’ve never been so close to a man’s face, other than my father. Mayhap my brother when we were younger. I just wish to touch it. Is it rough or soft?”

His smile returned and he waggled his brow. “You tell me.” He leaned forward for her.

She cupped his cheek and brushed his beard a wee bit. His hair had strands of red in the sun, but inside it was darker. His beard carried more red in it than his long locks. She was fascinated by all the colors. She ran her hand across the rough plane and pulled back quickly.

“Ow! That is quite stiff. More than I expected.” She blushed a deep shade of red, the same that she always did when she was close to someone she didn’t know well. “Forgive me. That was rude.”

He shook his head and said, “Your touch would never be rude, Merryn. Your skin is as soft as a bairn’s. Men and women are different. It is the way of it.”

“Sylvi, don’t be so rough with your brother.” Dyna entered the hall, but she barely noticed them, giving them a quick wave.

“Everyone works hard here. You all have your assigned chores,” Merryn said.

“We do. Only the elders get to sit, but they create their own chores. Gwyneth loves to sew leggings, and Logan is trying to create his own special brew like Sloan’s.

I wish my parents were here so you could meet them.

Mama loves to watch over the bairns, and Da is always observing the lists or brushing down a horse or two. Mayhap someday soon.”

“I would love to meet them.”

He changed his position. “As much as I enjoy chatting with you, I must move on because I’m expected in the lists for training later.

” Broc brought her attention to the parchment in front of him.

“So, here is a list of all the letters in the alphabet. Once you learn their names and how you say them, then we can put them together and you can begin to learn words.”

“What about writing? I’d like to learn to write too.” She’d always had the dream of learning how to read when she’d seen her male cousins learning in the castle. Reading was a skill not offered to most females.

“First you learn how to read, then write.” Broc smiled and her belly did this odd flip whenever he looked at her like that. “Though you could certainly try to copy the ones here. I can bring the materials for you the next time.”

“Do you all know how to read?”

Broc nodded. “Grandmama insisted on teaching all of us. My mother loves to read and teaches bairns when they turn around six or seven summers. If you were in the clan, you learned to read. My mother took over much of the teaching as Grandmama stepped away. She used picture books to tell stories, but then she progressed to reading and writing.”

Broc continued, pronouncing each letter as he pointed to it, waiting for her to repeat him. It was the best activity because it gave her time to study him, this man who brought such strong feelings to the surface. They confused her, but she found them pleasing and, oddly, something to cherish.

Instead of visions of her sister dying, she forced herself to think of Broc.

He had such a strong jawline under the wee beard on his face. His hair waved in different directions all the time. How she wished her own hair could look like that instead of messy on a wind-blown day. But what drew her in were his eyes.

They were the loveliest shade of blue she’d ever seen. She and Nara once found a nest full of birds’ eggs, and Broc’s eyes were the same color, with flecks of darker blue and silver everywhere. And when he looked at her, she had the urgent need to sigh, but she contained herself.

What was happening to her?

Merryn cautioned herself to stay true to her goals.

Since Kelvan’s visit, she’d had the incredible drive to end his torture of the people of Mull.

She had no idea he had stolen the sweet bairns away, but now that she knew, she was possessed with the need to get rid of him.

It didn’t matter where or what he did; he just had to leave.

To gaol, over the water to the east, or back to England where he came from.

Every night she lay in her bed thinking of all the atrocities he had committed. He didn’t deserve to live, to continue his rampage. But what was one lass to do about him? Nothing.

Yet she would someday. She vowed to find a way to rid Shealee of his intrusion into their lives. Nara would want it that way. It was Merryn’s charge to see it through. She would learn to read and learn archery. Those were her two immediate objectives.

Her long-term goal? Until Kelvan Mortimer was gone, she didn’t have time to devote to any man. Even Broc.

The door opened, pulling her from her thoughts. A group of people entered, all chattering as if they were the best of friends.

Broc set his implements down and said, “Mama? Da?” He broke into a wide grin, then looked at her and said, “My apologies, but my parents have arrived from the mainland. Could we work again on the morrow?”

“Of course,” she said, putting everything back into a small crate and setting it on a side table where it had been before. Merryn moved over to the hearth, standing in front to warm herself as she observed the happy group.

A tall woman with hair a shade darker than Broc’s stepped inside first, laughing and setting down the sacks in her arms. “Broc, get over here. I’ve missed you terribly.”

The man behind her had hair mostly gray with shocks of red still visible. He was tall and bubbly, his laughter contagious as everyone behind him laughed along. The three bairns ran over to greet the newcomers while Dyna came flying out of the kitchens.

“You’re here! And you’ve brought food! I can smell the boar meat!”

“Greetings, Auntie Kyla,” Sylvi said as she hugged her aunt. “And Uncle Finlay too. Did you bring any toys?”

Kyla winked at Sylvi and said, “I might just have a new set of blocks all carved out for you. It’s like a puzzle. But you must wait, lassie. It’s packed in a bag somewhere. Will you help me carry our things to our chamber?”

Merryn sat in a chair as Maeve and Maitland came in, carrying Grant.

Broc’s mother reacted instantly, her voice full of joy. “Give me that sweet bairn. I’ve missed him. Look how he has grown!”

To Merryn’s surprise, after Lady MacNicol picked up Grant, Broc came over, took Merryn’s hand, and brought her over to his parents.

“Mama, this is Merryn. She’s from the MacLean holding in Mull. We’ve had some trouble with the bairns of late, as you’ve probably heard, so we brought Merryn and her daughter Shealee here. Merryn, these are my parents.”

“Greetings to you, my lady,” Merryn said with a brief curtsy. “Shealee is playing with Sandor and Tora.”

Kyla stared at Merryn and handed Grant back to his mother without taking her eyes away from Merryn. “Merryn, is your husband here too?”

“I’m not married yet.” She looked at Shealee and blushed. “It’s complicated.” Afraid of what the woman would think of her, she leaned forward and whispered, “She’s actually my niece. We’re hiding her from the girl’s father.”

Kyla took both of Merryn’s hands in hers and said, “My, but you are a beauty with that golden-red hair. You remind me of my husband’s family.”

Merryn blushed and Broc said, “Mama, stop staring at her. You’re making her uncomfortable. She just arrived and doesn’t know anyone here.”

Kyla dropped her hands and stepped back. “Please call me Kyla. No reason for formality here. We aren’t like that. There’s too many of us. If anyone called out ‘my lady,’ ten people would answer.”

Merryn moved back over to the chair, picked up a toy, and handed it to Shealee, who had grabbed ahold of her skirt, hiding in the fold. “This is Shealee.”

“Merryn,” Kyla said. “She’s lovely. May I ask you an odd question?”

Merryn nodded. What else could she possibly say? Broc was busy speaking with his father and the two were heading up the staircase with the bags behind Dyna.

“What think you of Broc’s scar?”

Merryn was totally confused, not knowing how to answer the odd question, so she answered with complete honesty.

“What scar, my lady?”

Kyla grinned and hugged her.