Page 2 of To Wed a Laird (English Brides and Highland Vows #1)

CHAPTER ONE

The carriage driver urged the horses into a canter, and they clattered over the drawbridge and disappeared into the fog and rain, breaking the last thread that tied Rose to her old life.

Now she was alone with no one to lean on, and no one to support her but herself.

She felt as if all strength and hope had been drained from her, but she knew she would have to find it again, and quickly.

Then she reminded herself that she had been able to stand up for herself before. She could do it again.

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and began to walk towards the figure standing on the stairs.

His gaze seemed to bore into her, affecting her so much that her knees began to feel weak.

Briefly, Rose wondered what he was thinking.

Was he regretting his decision to employ an Englishwoman?

However, there was no time to think about it any more. A few more steps brought her face-to-face with Cormac MacTavish, and she curtsied politely and gave him a faint smile, which was not returned.

Now Rose could see the dark bristles on his cheeks and appreciate the sheer size of him. She began to tremble inwardly and forced herself to tilt her head back so that she could see him properly, then became captivated by the intense blue of his eyes. He certainly was a fine-looking man.

This close, she could see his well-defined features; high cheekbones, firm square jaw, a long, aquiline nose and perfectly shaped, full lips.

There was a dimple in the centre of his chin, into which Rose was tempted to put the tip of her forefinger just to see what it felt like.

Then she gave herself a mental shake and forced herself to focus again.

For a moment she hesitated, then lowered her gaze to the ground for a few seconds. “My Laird,” she said, trying to sound confident and unafraid. “I am Rosemary Tewsbury. I believe you are expecting me.”

MacTavish nodded to her in acknowledgement, then beckoned her to follow him. He strode along so fast that Rose had to break into a trot to keep up with him, but he did not slow down, even though he could see that she was struggling.

Rose was angry and breathless, but was determined not to let him see her discomfort.

They stopped a hundred feet inside the castle where a pleasant-faced elderly woman stood, apparently waiting for them.

She was not tall, but she had a firm, upright posture, and looked as though she would stand no nonsense from anyone.

She had a head of thick white hair and her blue-grey eyes were smiling at Rose kindly, despite her no-nonsense appearance.

There was something motherly about her, and Rose liked her at first sight, knowing somehow that they would be friends.

The woman stepped forward and held her hand out. “I am Mrs Brodie,” she said as she grasped Rose’s hand. “But ye can call me Nell. Everybody else does.”

Rose smiled. “I am Rosemary Tewsbury.” She heard her voice trembling a little, still nervous. “Call me Rose, please. I am so pleased to meet you.”

Nell gave Rose’s hand a reassuring squeeze, then they both turned to the Laird as he began to speak. His voice was a low-pitched rumble and seemed to come from somewhere deep inside his broad chest.

“Let me tell you about your duties,” he began.

He squared his shoulders and folded his arms, then took a deep breath.

“You will look after my daughter, Elspeth, and she needs a very firm hand. She has had half-a-dozen governesses already, but each one has been driven away by her wild behaviour. I have told her I will not tolerate this anymore. I have employed you because you are an Englishwoman like her mother, so I think you may succeed where others have failed.”

He paused and looked down at her for a moment, and Rose fancied that she saw a softening in his expression, but it was fleeting, and a few seconds later, he said, “I will supply anything you need to take care of her, but be warned, she does not submit to discipline easily. I was told by your father that you have two younger sisters, so you have some experience and understanding of dealing with young lasses. Is that right?”

“It is, My Laird,” Rose replied. She had crossed her hands behind her back so that he would not see them trembling, and now she tried to smile at him, although Cormac MacTavish’s grim expression did not change.

“If you have any other needs, please ask Nell,” he ordered. “She has my authority to give you all the help and advice you need.”

He gave her a brief nod before turning to Nell. “Come and see me in my study after the evening meal tonight, Nell. I need to talk over a few things with you.”

“Yes, M’Laird,” Nell replied.

“Any other questions?” he asked, pinning his gaze on Rose again.

Rose shook her head. “No, My Laird,” she answered. “Thank you.”

The Laird’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, and Rose felt that she was being examined as if she were an animal being sold at a marketplace before he gave her a brief nod and turned away.

Rose let out a long, quivering sigh of relief and her body sagged with the release of tension as she watched the Laird mount a staircase two steps at a time and disappear from her sight.

Nell watched her and saw Rose’s obvious distress. “I know how ye feel, lass,” she said gently, her voice loaded with sympathy. “He has that effect on most folk that meet him for the first time, but he isnae as fierce as he looks, hen. He has been through a lot. Dae ye know much about him?”

“Very little,” Rose admitted. “I know he is a widower, and his wife was killed in an attack of some sort.” She sighed again and rubbed her hand across her forehead.

“Are ye a’ right, hen?” Nell was concerned, and looked into Rose’s dark eyes with sympathy. “Ye dinnae look well at a’.”

“I have a headache,” Rose replied. “I think it was all the shaking about in the carriage. It is not a comfortable way to travel at all.”

“Indeed it isnae,” Nell agreed, frowning. “But somethin’ else is wrong, is it no’?”

“I have a splitting headache,” Rose told her. “Too much shaking about in the carriage, and I am very hungry.”

“We can dae somethin’ about that!” Nell smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. “I will bring ye some food fae the kitchen, an’ some willow bark tea. The cook has some on hand for the guards who drink too much ale after their shifts!”

Rose had no idea about guards, and shifts were the garments she wore underneath her dress. Clearly, she had a lot to learn about life in a castle!

“Tell me what ‘shifts’ are, please, Nell,” she asked. “Guards work in shifts? You mean… petticoats?”

For a moment, Nell stared at her in disbelief, and Rose blushed with embarrassment.

“Petticoats?” Nell asked, and there was a pause before light dawned.

“Oh, I see! No, hen. Shifts are the hours a guard works before he goes tae rest. Some work fae morning tae night, some work fae night tae mornin’, but I can see how ye were mixed up.

” Then she laughed. “I will never be able tae look at them in the same way now, though. A’ they big men dressed in frilly shifts! ”

Rose laughed at the hilarious image, realising that there were so many new words, habits, and customs that she would have to become accustomed to. “I have so much to learn,” she observed, shaking her head.

Nell looked at Rose’s profile, thinking what a beautiful young woman she was, with her bright chestnut-coloured hair and deep brown eyes.

She had already seen some of the guards eyeing her with appreciation, and knew that she would have to warn them off.

Nothing must distract Rose from taking care of her charge because this task was simply too important, as the welfare of the Laird’s daughter depended upon it.

She led Rose to a side passage, which in turn led to a narrow stairwell, and they climbed what felt like a hundred stairs to a corridor in the attic.

It was dark and freezing cold in the windowless space, and she shivered as she looked around her.

A row of doors ran along each side of it, and Rose guessed that this was the servants’ quarters.

She had never been in this part of her own house, and had no idea what she would find inside the chamber to which she had been assigned, but she had a feeling that it would be tiny, cramped, and dull.

Nell opened the door to a room near the stairs and led Rose inside, and she was pleasantly surprised to find that it was not at all what she had expected.

It was, of course, much smaller than her own bedroom at home, but it was warm, due to the cheerful fire that was already burning.

The window was not big, which was just as well, because this part of the castle bore the brunt of the wind and storms that blew in from the sea.

The bed looked comfortable, and was covered in a thick, brightly patterned quilt. Beside it was a small table and chair, and there was a chest of drawers for her clothes. All in all, she thought, it looked neat and cosy, and best of all, private.

She moved to the window. There was not much to look at, since she was facing the other towers of the castle, but she reasoned that the small chamber was the best she could hope for under the circumstances.

She looked around and smiled at Nell. “Well, this is very pleasant,” she said, trying to sound genuinely pleased.

Nell was not fooled, but she returned the smile.

She felt infinitely sorry for this young woman who had arrived in a strange country, knowing no one, and being thrust into a whole world about which she knew nothing.

But Nell would be her teacher and guide, the one who would show her the way and correct her mistakes.

“I am glad ye like it, hen,” Nell said fondly.

“Why do you keep calling me ‘hen?’” Rose asked, frowning in puzzlement.

Nell laughed softly. “I forgot… There are many words ye willnae know, Rose. That is just somethin’ ye say tae a woman or a girl. It is just a way tae talk tae her. I cannae explain it any better than that.”

“I see,” Rose said thoughtfully, then sighed. “I really do have a lot to learn, don’t I?” She sighed.

Nell took Rose’s boots off and put them by the fire to dry, then helped her to strip off her damp clothes. Having done that, she turned back the blankets and helped Rose into bed before tucking her in, in a manner that reminded her of her mother.

“Rest for a wee while,” Nell told her. “When I come back, I will bring ye somethin’ tae eat an’ we can go an’ see Elspeth. Ye’ve had a long day.”

“Thank you, Nell,” Rose replied.

Nell smiled and left, closing the door softly behind her. Rose’s eyes drifted shut as the clean linen sheets wrapped her in warmth and softness. Gone was the jolting rattle of the carriage and the discomfort of her cold, damp clothes, and the feeling of peace that stole over her was blissful.

Her headache had thankfully dulled, and although she was still hungry, it was not bad enough to keep her awake. She sank into a dreamless sleep.

Meanwhile, Nell had made her way down to the Laird’s office, since he had asked to see her after she had made Rose comfortable. Nell had been with him and with his father before him, for as long as he could remember, and he trusted her implicitly.

In his view, there was no better judge of character than Nell. Her opinion was the only one he sought in this situation, since she never failed to give him anything less than the truth, even if it was sometimes brutal.

She entered his study and sat down opposite him, facing him across the desk and looking at him with narrowed eyes. “Ye look tired, M’Laird,” she observed.

“It has been a very busy day,” he replied, yawning.

“One of those days when nothing seems to go right.” He poured out two glasses of ale from the pitcher on his desk and handed one to her.

“But I have not asked you here to talk about me. I want to know what you think of the new governess. Do you think this one will be better than the others?”

Nell took a sip of her ale and smiled. “M’Laird, dae ye ever meet somebody an’ like them straight away?”

“Like love at first sight?” he asked.

Nell laughed. “No’ quite like that, M’Laird.

But ye know, I had a good feelin’ about that lassie as soon as I laid eyes on her.

She looks kind, an’ there is somethin’ strong about her.

I feel it. I think she is the best of a’ the women who have applied for the position so far, an’ there is somethin’ about her that I think Elspeth will like.

An’ she is English, like Lady Catherine. ”

Cormac nodded slowly. “You know that I place great faith in your judgement, Nell,” he said, smiling at her. “So I hope you are right because my daughter needs a steady hand.”

Nell finished her ale and stood up. “I think this one is the right one, M’Laird. You wait an’ see.”

Cormac watched her as she walked out, then laid his head on his folded hands on the desk. He felt utterly wrung out and exhausted, and the day was only halfway through.