Fated Hearts 02 - Highland Echoes (12 page)

By Wednesday evening, Grace had completed almost five ells of the intricate ribbon. She couldn’t have done it without fine weather and Teasag who stayed at the cottage now every day until none. The lass worked her own weaving while Kristen napped. But Thursday dawned gray and rainy. The gloomy day meant Grace had to use candlelight in order to see well enough to do the intricate work. Even then it was a strain. By the time Kristen had awoken from her nap, Grace had barely finished half an ell.

“Teasag, sweetling, I have to stop for a while. Working in the poor light is causing my head to ache. How about if Kristen and I walk ye home?”

“But it’s raining. Ye needn’t go with me.”

“I want to. I need the break and it looks as if the rain has slowed to a heavy mist.”

“All right. If ye want to.”

They covered their heads and headed out into the mist. When they reached the castle gates, Donal was on the watch. “And where are the three of ye braw lassies headed on such a damp day?”

Grace knew what Donal was really asking and it annoyed her. “Just walking Teasag home, Donal.” Grace snapped.

He smiled knowingly. “Ah, ye found out. I didn’t figure ye’d take it very well.”

She looked down and pressed two fingers into the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry, Donal. It’s not yer fault. There’s no rule about me going to the village is there?”

“Nay, lass.” He grinned at her. “Enjoy the fine weather.”

When they reached Teasag’s home, the rain had picked up again. Una fussed, ushered them inside, and gave them a warm tisane. “Grace, ye needn’t have come with her. Now ye and Kristen have to walk back in the rain.”

“Aye, but it isn’t a terribly cold rain.”

“She needed the walk, Mama, she has a headache,” said Teasag.

“Ah, well, it doesn’t surprise me. Ye have been working yerself too hard. An afternoon with a bit of leisure is just what ye need.”

After a warm drink and a nice chat, Grace did feel better. Kristen too enjoyed playing with Una’s children. “Thank ye, Una. It has been a lovely break but it’s growing late and I still have to do some more weaving. Kristen and I should be heading back now.”

The rain hadn’t let up. If anything it had become heavier. Grace carried Kristen so she could cover both of them with her plaid and move as quickly as possible. They hadn’t gone far when men on horseback rode through the village, approaching from behind her. As they drew near, she heard Bram’s voice. “Grace? What in the name of all that’s holy are ye doing out in this weather?” He was off Goliath and at her side in an instant.

This was the absolute last thing she needed. “I don’t see how it is any concern of yers.”

“It concerns me, Grace, because I care about ye. Let me help ye up on Goliath and ye can ride with me the rest of the way.”

“I’ve had just about enough of yer concern.” Grace walked faster.

“Mama, I wanna wide Gowiaff.”

“Not now, Kristen.”

“But I wanna ask him.”

“What to ye want to ask me, pet?” Bram said, taking Kristen from Grace and covering the child with his own plaid.

“Why we couldn’t cwimb the hiww.”

His eyebrow shot up. “That’s what this is about, Grace?” She glared at him. “We’ll discuss it later.” He handed Kristen to a guardsman who, like Bram had done, covered Kristen with his plaid.”

“But I wanted to wide Gowiaff.”

“And ye shall, but let’s get Mama up there first.” Turning back to Grace, he lifted her onto Goliath’s back before she could protest. Then he put Kristen on her lap and swung up behind them both.

It was pointless to argue with him, but nevertheless it fueled her ire. He pulled her close and wrapped his plaid around them before urging Goliath into a trot.

Even as irritated as she was, it had been a long time since a man had held her so close. She liked his touch. He felt so warm and strong.

They hadn’t gone far when a rider approached from the castle. Because Bram’s plaid partially covered her head and face, she couldn’t immediately see who it was.

“Good afternoon, Michael, where are ye headed in this foul weather?”

“Back to the castle now. I just learned that Grace had walked Teasag home earlier when the rain had all but stopped. I didn’t want her to have to walk home in this.”

“It’s just a summer rain,” said Grace in exasperation.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t chill ye to the bone if ye are out in it long enough,” said Bram. “It was good of ye to come for her, Michael. Ye have my thanks.”

“Ye know me. I live to serve,” said Michael, drawing chuckles from the men around them. He turned his horse and cantered back to the castle ahead of them.

With the mix of irritation and attraction that flooded her already aching head, Grace decided silence was her best option. The less she said, the better.

They were riding through the outer curtain wall in no time. The men riding with them stopped when they reached the stables, but Bram kept going until he reached Innes’ cottage. He dismounted, lifted Kristen out of Grace’s lap, and set her down in the doorway, under the eaves and out of the rain. Then he lifted Grace down.

“Thank ye,” muttered Grace, opening the door for Kristen.

“I’ll return when I’ve seen to Goliath.”

“There’s no need. We’re safe within the castle walls now.”

“Ye’re obviously angry so we have things to discuss. I’ll be back.” He mounted Goliath and rode back towards the stables.

She stepped inside, shaking her head. Somehow this was all a little beyond belief. She shut the door. Damp and bedraggled, Kristen stood in the middle of the room. “I’m a widdle cold.”

“Me too,” said Grace. She stoked the fire to life then redressed Kristen in warm dry clothes before putting on dry things herself. At the midday meal, Innes had sent someone with a fresh loaf and a small iron pot filled with soup. Grace hung the half-full pot over the fire to rewarm it. Perhaps after an early supper, she could put Kristen to bed a little early too and try to work a bit more on the ribbon by candlelight.

More than enough time had elapsed for Bram to tend Goliath and he hadn’t returned. Grace accepted that as a blessing from the God who of late, seemed to have abandoned her. Kristen sat at the table eating her bread and soup and Grace had just set her own on the table beside Kristen’s when someone knocked on the door.

She looked towards heaven. “Aye, I suppose it was too much to hope ye’d started listening.”

She opened the door to Bram, who appeared to have washed and changed clothes himself. Handsome didn’t begin to describe him.

“Sir Bwam,” exclaimed Kristen.

“Good evening, Kristen. Grace, may I come in?”

Still piqued from earlier she answered, “Would it do any good to say nay?”

He chuckled. “Probably not.”

“Then of course, come in. Make yerself comfortable. Would ye care for a bowl of soup?”

He ignored her mocking tone. “Thank ye. Aye, I’d love a bowl of soup.” He sat at the table across from Kristen.

Grace dished up another bowlful, cut a slice of bread, and placed both in front of Bram.

He made the sign of the cross and bowed his head. “Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord. Amen.” He made the sign of the cross again before breaking off a bite of bread, dipping it in the soup, and eating it.

She stared at him. Her father, and then her husband, had always asked a blessing. When she lost them, she couldn’t bring herself to say the words, doing so reminded her poignantly of her loss. But listening to him pray the familiar words didn’t reinforce her grief—just the opposite. She felt…connected.

“Eat, Grace.”

At a complete loss, Grace didn’t understand the effect he had on her. She frowned and took a spoonful of her own soup.

Kristen didn’t seem to be similarly bothered. “Sir Bwam, why couldn’t I pick fwowers on the hiww? Mama said to ask ye.”

“Ah, that’s right, ye mentioned that in the village.”

Grace could feel his eyes on her, but she felt off-balance and refused to look at him.

“Well, Kristen, I worry about ye and yer mama. I like to know that ye’re safe and I think it might be dangerous for just ye and yer mama to climb the hill alone. I want to be with ye when ye climb it so I can make sure ye are safe.”

Grace thought that was ridiculous.

Kristen said, “Oh,” as if it made perfect sense to her.

“Do ye remember I was looking for yer mama the morning I left?”

“Aye. Ye said I was to teww her, ye were sowwy ye missed her, and I did.”

“That’s right. I wanted to see her before I left so I could ask her not to walk up the hill with ye until I got back.

“Ye didn’t teww me that.”

“Nay, I didn’t. It was so important that I worried, being such a wee lass, ye might forget. So, I told the guardsmen to tell yer mama.

“I wanted to pick fwowers and mama needed a bwake fwom the wibbon.”

Bram looked bewildered. “A break from the ribbon? Grace, what does she mean?”

“I mean a bwake fwom the wibbon. The wibbon mama’s making for Wady Suverwand.” At his continued confusion, Kristen said, “I’ww show ye.” She started to climb down from the table.

Grace stopped her. “Nay, Kristen. Ye mustn’t touch the loom. Even when ye are a big girl and are allowed to touch the loom, ye must never put it on a table with food—ye never want to risk spilling something on the ribbon. Besides, ye need to finish eating yer supper.”

“Did I understand her correctly? Ye are making ribbon? For my mother?”

“For Wady Suverwand,” said Kristen as if Bram had misunderstood her.

“Lady Sutherland is Sir Bram’s mother, Kristen. Please eat yer supper.”

“Is that what she wanted to speak to ye about the morning I left? Can ye make ribbon?”

If the prayer moments ago had made her feel connected, talking about the ribbon she was making for his betrothed had quite the opposite effect. “Aye, it is why she summoned me and yes I can make ribbon. It’s just another kind of weaving. My ribbon loom was small enough to bring with me from Lewis.”

“How did my mother know ye could weave ribbon?”

Grace did not want to talk about this. “I don’t know. I expect someone told her. A few women have bought ribbon from me.”

“And ye are weaving ribbon for her.”

“She had silk thread that she wanted woven into ribbon.”

“Teasag hewps.”

Bram gave Grace another questioning look. “Teasag helps? How does Teasag help ye weave ribbon?”

“She pways wiff me while mama weaves.”

“Kristen, sweetling, I want yer mama to answer me.”

“Teasag plays with Kristen while I weave.” Grace repeated exactly what Kristen had said.

Bram was beginning to look frustrated. “I understood that much. What I want to understand is why? Teasag is awfully young herself. Why do ye need her to mind Kristen?”

“Because mama has a wot of wibbon to weave for yur twoved.”

Grace really didn’t want to explain this. “Kristen, Sir Bram asked me to answer. Finish eating yer supper, please.” To Bram she said, “yer mother asked me to make ten ells of blue ribbon and she wanted it fairly quickly. For the last couple of days, Teasag has come to play with Kristen, while I weave. And, aye, Teasag is young, but she isn’t left alone with Kristen. She is just here to help occupy Kristen so I can focus. We walked her home today. We were on our way back when ye came upon us.”

“Ye walked her home in the rain? A guardsman would have done that.”

Maybe it was her aching head, or how befuddled she felt around Bram. Maybe it was spending hours every day constantly reminded that the man she felt attracted to, whose company she usually enjoyed, was marrying someone else. And maybe it had been building up for days, but Grace was overcome by a wave of anger. She banged both fists on the table. “Honestly, Bram, ye are behaving as if ye think I am a witless child. I’m a grown woman. I have been alone,” her voice broke. She swallowed hard. “I have been alone for a long time and managed quite well without someone telling me where I can and cannot walk, or what I must or must not do. The rain had practically stopped—when we left the castle, it was just a mist. Aye, it started up again, but it’s a
summer rain
and it was just a walk from the village. There was no fear of us freezing.” Grace stood and walked from the table. She was so upset her whole body trembled. She spun around to face him again. “And, for that matter, I am nothing to ye. I am the cook’s granddaughter! By everything that’s holy, can ye please tell me why ye feel the need to interfere in my life?”

Her eyes fell on Kristen who looked at her with a very concerned expression. She simply said, “Mama, what matters most?”

Grace’s shoulder’s sagged. It was the question her mother had asked her when she was little and she in turn asked Kristen. It was a simple tradition to help remind a child of what was truly important, especially in a stressful situation when remembering was hard. If Kristen had been cross and angry, Grace would have asked it of her. “Kindness matters most, Kristen. Thank ye for reminding me of that.”