Page 12 of To Wed a Witch (Reluctant Brides #3)

T he gates of Ferguson Keep creaked open as their small caravan rolled into the bailey.

Sìne felt Bhaltair's tension increase. She'd already caught her first glimpse of his ancestral home from the ridge above, and while the sight had been sobering, it hadn't dampened her spirits as he'd clearly feared it might.

The Keep was indeed a shadow of what it must once have been.

Crumbling towers rose against the grey sky, their stones darkened with age and weather-worn.

Scaffolding clung to the eastern wall where men had clearly been laboring to shore up sagging sections, and she could see gaps where mortar had fallen away from between the massive blocks.

The roof showed patches of newer slate among the weathered original, evidence of ongoing repairs.

But rather than disappointment, Sìne felt something closer to eagerness stirring in her chest. Here was a place she could put her skills to good use. Purpose.

She caught Bhaltair watching her with wary eyes, clearly bracing himself for her reaction. Instead of the dismay he expected, she smiled.

"'Tis a mighty stronghold," she said. "Look at those walls. They've stood for centuries, have they not? Built to endure."

The relief that flickered across his weathered features was almost heartbreaking. "The roof of the Great Hall let in rain through most of last winter," he admitted roughly. "And the north tower stands empty until we can shore up its foundation."

"Then ye'll see it restored when the time is right," Sìne replied matter-of-factly, adjusting Aidyn in her arms as the child babbled at all the new sights and sounds. "All things have their season."

Before Bhaltair could respond, the bailey erupted with activity as his clan members emerged from doorways and gathered around the courtyard. Word of their laird's return had spread quickly, and the crowd that assembled was substantial despite their much-reduced circumstances.

"Laird!" someone called out, and the cry was taken up by others. "Welcome home!"

Bhaltair dismounted and moved to help Sìne down from the cart, his hands lingering at her waist. The crowd pressed closer, eager to catch sight of their new lady and the mysterious child she carried in her arms.

"Is it true, laird?" called out a burly man with a blacksmith's scarred hands. "Will we finally have coin for the repairs?"

"Aye, Kenneth," Bhaltair replied, his voice carrying clearly across the courtyard. "Our fortunes have improved."

A cheer went up from the assembled crowd, and Sìne felt some of the wariness in the air ease. These people had clearly suffered through lean years, and the promise of better days ahead was written on their faces.

But not every face showed welcome. She caught glimpses of narrowed eyes and heard the whispered conversations that followed in their wake as Bhaltair escorted her toward the Keep's main entrance.

"Is that really her?" someone murmured. "The MacKay Witch?"

"They say she can call the dead back to life with her dark arts."

"Cursed, that's what she is. Mark my words, no good will come of this."

"How dare she bring her bastard here..."

The whispers carried clearly in the crisp air. Sìne felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment, but before she could react, a sharp voice cut through the murmurs.

"That's quite enough of yer insults!" Bhaltair said with a stormy expression on his face as he glared at those murmuring.

"My wife is a blessing to us all. Anyone who thinks otherwise is welcome to challenge me for the lairdship or leave the clan, for I will not abide by another word spoken against her or our daughter! "

There were audible gasps and shock from some and murmurs from others.

Bhaltair stood his ground with his hand to the pommel of his sword, waiting for anyone to openly challenge him.

He was making it clear where his loyalties lay, and they were with his new family.

The whispers died instantly. Several people had the grace to look ashamed, while others simply melted back into the crowd.

At that moment, an elderly woman emerged from the Keep's main door. Her steel-grey hair was pulled back beneath a white coif, and her dark eyes blazed with indignation as she surveyed the crowd.

"Have ye forgotten yer manners entirely?

" she snapped at the clansfolk. "Welcome yer new mistress, then get back to yer duties.

Stop gawking and standing about or ye'll scare the wee one!

" Several clansfolk took that opportunity to step forward and introduce themselves.

Others smiled and greeted Sìne and Aidyn with genuine warmth.

Bhaltair's relief was visible as he ushered her forward. "Sìne, may I present Ada MacKinnon, my housekeeper and the woman who's kept this place in order through all our troubles. Ada, this is my wife, Lady Sìne Ferguson, and our daughter Aidyn."

Sìne noticed Bhaltair did not flinch when he referred to Aidyn as 'our daughter'. Well, if that did not make her heart skip a little.

Ada's stern expression softened immediately as she approached.

"Welcome to Ferguson Keep, my lady," she said warmly, dropping into a respectful curtsy. "I hope ye'll forgive the state of things. We've been doing what we might with what we have, but much remains wanting."

"Thank ye. One cannot ask for anything more," Sìne replied.

"Ye're very kind. And this precious babe..." Ada reached out tentatively to stroke Aidyn's cheek, earning a delighted giggle from the child. "She's a bonnie lass. Look at those striking eyes."

"She's taken to traveling remarkably well," Sìne replied, unable to keep the pride from her voice. "Though I suspect she'll be glad to rest in a proper bed this night."

From somewhere in the crowd, she heard renewed whispers.

"Whose child might she be, then?"

"She has the look of a Ferguson about her, does she not?"

Bhaltair's carefully woven tale was taking root, just as he'd intended. He turned to Sìne and said, "Ada will see that ye and Paisley are settled in while I see to the men and any matters that need my attention. I'll join ye in the evening."

Sìne nodded before they were interrupted by a clansman with an urgent matter requiring Bhaltair's full attention.

"Come," Ada said briskly, clearly eager to see her new mistress settled in. "Let me show ye to yer chambers. I've had the fires lit and fresh linens put on the bed, though I'm afraid..." She hesitated, glancing apologetically.

"Afraid of what?" Sìne asked gently.

"Well, the roof's been troubling us. We've done what we might to patch it, but if the rains come tonight, ye may hear some dripping."

Sìne laughed. "After sleeping in a cart for several days, I think I can bear a few drops."

She turned back to wave at Bhaltair, but he was deep in discussion with several clansmen, and they all wore dark expressions.

Sìne wondered if it had to do with the mercenaries from the road.

As Ada continued walking at a brisk pace, she decided whatever it was, it would have to wait until the evening. She would ask Bhaltair then.

***

T HE GREAT HALL OF FERGUSON Keep showed the same mixture of faded grandeur that marked the rest of the stronghold.

Massive stone walls rose to a vaulted ceiling where banners hung, their colors dim with age.

The long tables that filled the space had been scrubbed clean, but she could see the wear in their scarred surfaces.

As they climbed the winding stone steps to the upper levels, Sìne noticed the repairs that had been made wherever possible.

Fresh mortar filled cracks in the walls, and someone had clearly spent considerable time scrubbing soot from the stones.

It might not be prosperous, but it was clean and well-kept within the means available.

"Here we are," Ada announced, pushing open a heavy oak door. "The laird's chambers."

Sìne stepped into the room and had to suppress a smile.

The space was large and well-appointed, with a massive stone fireplace dominating one wall and tall windows that would provide good light during the day.

But there were indeed buckets placed about the room, catching the steady drip of water from above.

"We've got men working on the roof," Ada said apologetically, following her gaze. "But with winter drawing near, 'tis slow going. At least the worst of it is contained."

"'Tis well enough," Sìne replied, and she meant it. The room had solid walls, good furnishings, and would do nicely. The leaking roof was simply another matter that Bhaltair would address when the time and means allowed.

She handed Aidyn to Paisley, then walked to the windows and looked out over the bailey below, where clan members continued about their daily tasks.

From this height, she could see the full scope of the Keep and its grounds.

Fields that showed promise, outbuildings that wanted repair but were sound at heart.

A clan that had endured lean years but hadn't lost hope.

"Ada," she asked, "is there a place where I might arrange my healing supplies? I brought herbs and remedies from my cottage. If there are folk who have need."

The older woman's face brightened considerably.

"Ye're a healer, my lady? Oh, that would be a great blessing indeed.

We haven't had anyone with proper knowledge since old Nan passed two winters ago.

There's a small stone building near the kitchens that might serve ye well.

'Twas used for storing grain, but it's stood empty since.

.. well, since we've had little grain to store. "

Sìne nodded, already envisioning the space. "If the laird grants permission, I'd be happy to set up a healer cottage there."

"I'm certain he would welcome having a healer among us again," Ada replied warmly. "There's always someone with an ache or a wound that wants tending. And with winter coming..." She shook her head. "Well, 'tis when we lose the most folk to fever and lung rot."