Authors: Suzan Tisdale
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Scottish, #Historical Fiction, #Historical Romance
“Did ye hear me, Rowan?” Frederick asked as he
stood before Rowan’s desk.
“Aye,” Rowan answered sharply. “Ye have no new
information. The same as yesterday and the day before.”
Frederick and Daniel looked at one another each
man thinking along the same path: Rowan was growing frustrated.
“Rowan, I may not have learned who tainted the
ale, but I am growing quite concerned about Lady Arline.” Daniel said.
Rowan finally looked up at him. “What of Lady
Arline?”
“Well, it seems she’s gaining a reputation around
the keep as being…well, difficult.”
Rowan looked at each man for a moment as he worked
his jaw back and forth. “Difficult? How do ye mean?”
Neither man wanted to tell Rowan the gossip they
were hearing as it pertained to Lady Arline. Neither man believed what they
were hearing, but still, it was quite disturbing.
Frederick knew he had to tell Rowan about the
gossip floating around the keep. “Someone is spreadin’ rumors about her Rowan.
They say she refuses to eat, to leave her room, that we’re all beneath her.
They say she cries all the time. There be another rumor that she wants to go
back to Ireland, to her da and that ye are refusin’ to allow it.” There was
more, much more that he had heard and he did not relish telling his chief, but
knew he must. “They be referrin’ to her as Blackthorn’s whore.”
Rowan shot to his feet his eyes filled with anger
as well as surprise. “Blackthorn’s whore?” He was astounded. He could not
imagine his people saying such things.
“Aye,” Daniel said reluctantly. “I do no’ believe
the rumors, Rowan. Ye ken how I feel about Lady Arline. She’s a fine woman, but
somethin’ is afoot here.”
Rowan had had enough. He hadn’t seen the woman in
days, now he learns that his clansmen are using disparaging remarks against
her. Aye, Daniel was correct. Something
was
wrong and he was going to
find out what it was.
Arline had made her way down the stairs and into
the hallway outside the gathering room. A very large young man was walking in
her direction. She stopped him and asked where she might find Rowan.
“Down the hall,” he said, with a nod over his
shoulder. “Second door on the right. He’s in his library.”
Arline thanked him. “And be he drunk this night?”
she asked tersely.
The man looked at her as if she were insane. “Drunk?
Nay, me lady.”
“He is quite sober then?” she asked, only for
clarification sake.
“Aye, me lady,” the man answered politely.
She thanked him again, lifted her cloak and skirts
in both hands and rushed off to find him.
Her anger had reached a boiling point by the time
she had stopped the man in the hallway. When she learned he was finally sober,
she felt some of that anger ebb. At least now she could have an intelligent
conversation with the man.
She rushed down the hallway and found the second
door on the right. She paused only long enough to take a deep breath to steady
her nerves. Without knocking, she flung the door open.
Rowan didn’t know at first just what had hit him
in the front of his skull. He had just reached the door to his library when it
flew open. The edge of it hit him squarely between his eyes. It had opened with
such force that it caused the air to stir and papers on his desk went floating
to the floor.
The shock of being banged in the head with the
edge of the door made him take a few steps back. Frederick and Daniel flew to
his side to catch him in case he fell. They stood on either side of Rowan,
holding his arms, with mouths agape.
“Rowan!” Daniel exclaimed.
Rowan shook his head which only made it hurt
worse. “What the bloody hell?” he stammered, as he tried to focus his eyes.
Lady Arline stood in the doorway. She’d gone as
pale as a sheet, her fingers touching her lips as if she were trying very hard
not to scream.
“Och! Rowan, I be so terribly sorry!” she said
from behind her fingers.
He shook his head again and shrugged Daniel and
Frederick away. “Damn it, woman!”
Tears instantly welled in her eyes. She looked
positively terrified. Even through his slightly blurred vision he could see
that she was upset and afraid. He immediately felt bad for having cursed and
yelled at her.
“I be sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “Ye
caught me unaware and, bloody hell, that hurt!” He rubbed his forehead with his
fingers. “I be sorry fer yellin’ at ye.”
“I’m sorry fer hittin’ ye with the door,” she
murmured.
He took another step back and bade her to enter
with a wave of his arm. “Please, come in.”
Arline hesitated a moment, took a deep breath,
threw her shoulders back as if she were steeling herself for something. Lifting
her cloak and skirts, she finally entered the library.
She noticed the papers scattered around the floor
in front of his desk. Rowan noticed them too.
They bent at the same time to pick them up.
Her forehead collided with Rowan’s as they bent to
retrieve them.
“Och!” Arline exclaimed as she took a step back
and stared at him. He looked to be in a good deal of distress, rubbing his
forehead, holding his breath. She nearly lost control of her bladder at that
point.
She’d come to fight it out with him, not assault
him.
“Rowan, I--” she didn’t know what to say. She took
a step toward him.
“Nay!” Rowan snapped. “Stop before ye kill me!”
Her eyes grew wide with horror as she stood as
still as a statue.
Oh, lord, help me.
Rowan let out an exasperated breath, took her hand
and sat her in the chair in front of his desk. He remained quiet as he rubbed
his forehead and tried to gather his thoughts.
They sat in tense silence for quite some time
before Rowan finally spoke.
“Lady Arline,” he said as calmly as he was able.
“I take it ye have somethin’ ye need to discuss?”
Arline swallowed hard as she tried to dislodge her
voice from her throat. She was studying him closely. For a drunkard, he
certainly looked quite healthy. She had expected to see the remnants of a
four-day drunk, red and bloodshot eyes, an unshaved face and trembling hands.
Instead, she saw the same handsome, strong and well kempt man she had seen days
ago. It made no sense, no sense at all.
“Well?” Rowan asked after a considerable amount of
silence passed between them.
Arline shook her head slightly. “Yes?”
“Why are ye here?” he asked. She seemed quite
distracted.
“Och! That!” she said, scooting closer to his
desk. “Yes, I did in fact wish to see ye, Rowan.”
Rowan glanced at Daniel and Frederick. They looked
just as confused as Rowan felt. She was acting quite odd.
Arline spotted the remnants of a tray of fruits,
cheeses, meats and breads on the corner of Rowan’s desk. Just sitting there.
How could they let food go to waste like that when their larder was lacking?
They could at the very least give it to the poor children!
“Lady Arline?” Rowan asked, breaking her train of
thought.
“Yes?” she said, glancing back at the tray.
Rowan finally noticed that she was indeed quite
focused on the tray of food. More than once she licked her lips and swallowed
hard.
“Lady Arline,” he repeated as he took the tray and
slid it in front of her. “Would ye like somethin’ to eat?”
She licked her lips again with a look of longing
in her eyes. “Nay, thank ye. Mayhap ye should give it to the children.”
Rowan thought it an odd request, but then she was
acting out of sorts. “Me lady, please, tell me what it is that ye needed to
discuss with me.”
With tremendous will, Arline pushed the images of
the food from her mind, took a deep breath and proceeded to tell Rowan Graham
just what was on her mind.
“While I do appreciate yer kind offer of a
position here, among yer people, I am afraid that I canna continue on like
this, me laird. I do no’ ken what I did that angered ye so, or made ye turn to
drink. Whatever it was, I will apologize fer it, here and now. But, I’m afraid
I canna go on like this. While I am glad fer a roof over me head, and the
pallet ye provided and the fur, it is no’ quite enough to keep the cold out. A
few pieces of wood at night would have been sufficient. And to say ye want me
here as Lily’s governess, then to forbid me to see her, well, that just doesna
make any sense, me laird, no sense at all.”
Rowan tried to ask her what the bloody hell she
was going on about, but she did not give him time to ask. She went on,
occasionally distracted by the food on the desk.
“I am no’ sayin’ that ye need to drape me in the
finest fabrics, but to deny me even the use of a bone needle to repair me
dress? I would think even prisoners get to repair torn clothes! And to call me
the things ye’ve been callin’ me? I canna abide that either me laird. I simply
canna remain silent. All that I ask of ye is an escort to Inverness. I realize
now, that ye dunna want me here, and that is all well and good, though it does
perplex me why ye asked to begin with. And I still dunna ken why ye hate me so
much! I be no spy. And I’m no’ a witch either!” She took a deep breath, licked
her lips again, and went on. “And the porridge! Och, I hate the bloody
porridge! But I eat it, just to keep me strength up mind ye. I mean, I canna
eat bread just twice a day and expect to survive!” She took another deep breath
and wiped an errant tear from her cheek.
The last thing she wanted was for Rowan Graham to
think he’d broken her spirit. She’d be damned if she would allow it to happen
or allow him to know it.
“I ken there be a good man in ye, somewhere, me
laird. I’ve seen him, I have. With me own eyes. Please, I will beg ye if I
must, but please, at least give me a horse!” The memory of the night Garrick
threw her out of his keep sent shivers down her spine. She sent a silent prayer
up to heaven that Rowan would at the very least, allow her a horse when he
tossed her out.
Her emotions were getting the better of her. She
took deep breaths to steady her nerves. Her hands trembled and she began to
feel light headed. She sat in silence, waiting for Rowan to respond.
“Me lady, I have absolutely no idea what yer goin’
on about,” he said as he leaned forward in his chair.
Arline rolled her eyes at him. Was it possible
that he’d been so drunk that he could not remember any of his directives or
orders? “I am wantin’ to ken why ye are so angry that ye won’t let me mend me
dress, why ye took the firewood and brazier away, why ye refuse to let me see
Lily, why ye only give me bloody porridge and stale bread twice a day! And why
the bloody hell you keep callin’ me Blackthorn’s whore!”
He sat there in silence, as astonished as he was
confused. His voice cracked ever so slightly when he finally spoke again.
“Arline, I never did any of those things to ye.”
The tears fell, one by one, down her cheeks. “Nay,
ye had others do it fer ye.”
The accusations appalled him. He started to stand,
changed his mind, and sat back in his chair.
“Has the healer, mayhap, given ye somethin’ that
might make ye a little daft?”
It was Arline’s turn to be confused. “Healer? I’ve
no’ seen the healer, me laird.”
He tilted his head ever so slightly. “Did she not
give ye something to help yer ribs when ye first arrived?”
“Nay. I tell ye, I’ve no’ seen the healer at all.”
Worry began to settle in the pit of his stomach.
“And why have ye no’ joined us fer any of the meals?”
She scrunched her brows together. The man was
daft. “Me laird, I was told I could no’ join ye at the meals. I was told to stay
out of yer way because ye were so angry with me.”
Rowan remained silent, the anger boiling up inside
him.
He studied her closely. She seemed perfectly lucid
and sincere. He detected no lies, nothing disingenuous on her part. She truly
believed everything she was telling him. He noticed then that she was wearing
her cloak. It had not been washed for it still bore the mud and berry stains
from her fall down the side of the ravine.
“Lady Arline, why are ye wearin’ yer cloak?”
“To stay warm,” she sounded somber and
embarrassed. “And to cover me dress. Ye’d no’ allow me to wash it or mend it.”
“Show me.”
Was the man truly insane? Had he drunk himself to
insanity? Fine, if he wanted proof, she’d show him. She scooted the chair back
and stood before him. She undid the ties of her cloak and pulled it open.
The torn bodice hung limply at her waist. He could
see where she had tried to remove the berry stains on her chemise for they were
faded somewhat.
Feeling as though she were some oddity on display,
she burned crimson. She pulled her cloak closed and hugged herself with it and
sat back down.
Rowan saw her look at the tray of food again.
“When was the last time you ate something other than porridge and bread?”
“The cheese and apples ye gave me when we were
comin’ here.”
“And yer last good meal?” His jaw was beginning to
ache from grinding his teeth.
“Me last good meal? I suppose it was right before
I married Garrick,” she said trying to add some levity to the room. She failed
miserably.
Rowan shot to his feet and gave Daniel and
Frederick a few orders. “Go now, to the kitchen. Find her some food, anything
but bread and cheese!” He came around the desk and stood next to Arline. “And I
want every last person in this keep assembled and in the gathering room
now.”
Daniel and Frederick left to do his bidding. Rowan
gently took Arline by the arm and guided her to the chair next to the
fireplace.
“Lady Arline, I most humbly and sincerely
apologize fer the way ye’ve been mistreated.” He went to the desk, grabbed the
tray and brought it back to her.
Rowan sat down on the stool in front of her and
held the tray out for her and urged her to eat.