The Highlander's Bride (22 page)

Aileen listened again to her friend’s criticism of her laird and heard the torment in her voice. “He is not ashamed, and I think it unfair for you to say so. And he loves you a great deal, from what I have seen,” she said, reaching out trying to comfort her friend. “It takes a long time for people, especially men, to change their minds. Be patient.”

“She’s right, milady,” Brighid added from across the room. “Men are most stubborn about such things as traditions and what they consider their responsibilities.” The misery in her voice was unmistakable.

“Why, Brighid, you sound as though you are having troubles with a man yourself!” Both Aileen and Laurel turned towards the young woman, who was on the brink of tears.

“Aye. My man, Donald, feels that he is of a lower station than myself since I have become your maid and escort. He says I should find someone nearer to my status. It matters little to him that I don’t care, that I want to be a soldier’s wife. Still, he refuses to listen.”

“Oh, Brighid. I had no idea. What a ridiculous notion! Whatever are we to do with such men as ours?” Laurel threw up her hands in exasperation.

“I don’t know, Lady Laurel, but I hope you discover the answer soon,” Brighid said despairingly.

Hands on hips, Laurel started to denounce whoever was denying her friend happiness. “Who is this man, Brighid? He should realize how fortunate he is to have your love and quickly seize it while he has the chance. Your status versus his is so unimportant in the bigger scheme of things.”

Aileen shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was healing well, but had torn a little during the birth. It was still difficult for her to move around. “The same could be said to you,” she chided Laurel. “You should take the love that is handed to you. While your problems seem large, they will shrink with time. You will see. Marry Conor and be happy.”

Laurel thought on those words the rest of the evening. When it was time to leave, Laurel and Brighid returned to the castle the same way as they had the previous nights. They used the east side castle door that led straight into the Warden’s Tower. From there, Laurel had access to the walkway on top of the curtain walls. She went directly to the Star Tower, climbing up to the battlements. Then she descended the tower’s stairs to her chambers.

She knew that Conor waited for her return every night. Before he would retire, he would always open the door to her chambers and watch her feigning sleep. After a while, he would leave, closing the door behind him. Once he had gone, she would cry herself to sleep.

Tonight was no different. He stared at her for the longest while and then said, “Good night, love. Tomorrow, Father Lanaghly arrives. Our games will be over and you and I will be married.” After he left, her tears started falling. Aileen was wrong, she cried to herself. They loved each other, but it didn’t change anything at all.

Early the next morning, Laurel rose and went down to the kitchen to find Brighid.

“Hello, Fiona. Has Brighid arrived?”

“Aye. She’s in the back cleaning a pot I need. One of me girls isn’t feeling well. You can’t be expecting me to feed an army with no help.” Fiona was as surly as ever in her domain, but she was still an excellent cook.

“I am sorry to hear about that. Please see Glynis for someone to assist you today. I realize that cooking for so many is difficult without the proper help.”

“Brighid?” Laurel called aloud.

“Coming, milady! Here, Fiona,” Brighid said, handing the cook the clean pot.

“Fiona, please tell whoever should ask that we will gone until late. I am riding out to visit the midwife and see if she has a treatment for Aileen. She is not healing as quickly as I had hoped, and I am praying that the midwife has something to ease the pain.”

Fiona nodded in acknowledgment, keeping her attention on the potatoes she was peeling. “You be sure to get me the help you promised.”

After sending Glynis to her favorite cook, Laurel and Brighid headed towards the stables. As Clyde was getting their mounts, Laurel grabbed her bow and dagger, repeating her plans to Neal about visiting the midwife.

They rode for several hours into higher country. It was much colder and rockier, making it slower for the horses to climb. Brighid was fair on a horse, but not nearly as skilled as Laurel, and the trip took longer than Laurel had anticipated.

“There it is,” Brighid waved at a stone house surrounded by tall pines on top of a crest.

As they rode up, a large robust woman opened the door and strode out. She had wild red hair that refused to stay in its pins. She wore a crimson chemise. Over that was a McTiernay plaid arisaid reaching from her neck to her ankles. It was plaited all around, secured at the waist with a large leather belt similar to the one Conor wore.

“Who are you?” she directed towards Laurel in a harsh tone.

“I’m Laurel Cordell,” she said, sliding off the horse. “Are you the McTiernay midwife?”

“Aye,” the surly woman responded, refusing to offer anything more.

The midwife’s hostility gave Laurel the feeling that not only did she not like visitors, she especially disliked non highlander visitors.

“I guess you have heard of me,” replied Laurel, who, after a long cold ride, was not in the mood for sniping women.

“I know you are English and are marrying the laird.”

“Umm. Well, that is yet to be seen,” Laurel replied, tying Borrail to the nearest tree.

“You aren’t marrying him?” The red eyebrows creased noticeably.

Ahh, it seemed the midwife who knew everything did not know about her and Conor’s latest feud. “I do not wish to do so, no.”

“You too good for our laird?” asked the midwife, trying to assess the proud, regal beauty she had heard so much about.

“Not at all. I just won’t change for him, or any man. I love your laird, but I refuse to pretend I am unskilled in things he thinks I shouldn’t be. And I will apply my knowledge when I can. Until he accepts this, we will not be wed.”

The older woman nodded as if approving. It seemed that she had passed some test. “Come on in, then. You, too, Brighid. I see you hovering back there. Get yourself in where it is warm.” The large woman turned and entered her cottage, leaving the visitors to fend for themselves.

Brighid and Laurel entered the stone cottage and went and stood by the fire to warm. Laurel could feel the midwife’s eyes on her, studying her. Mayhap she had only passed the first of many tests.

“So, I understand that you helped deliver Aileen’s babe.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact. The churlish redhead may live far away, but her knowledge of clan activities was apparently fairly current.

“Yes, I had hoped that you would arrive in time to help. I had no idea what I was doing.” She rubbed her hands bringing them back to life and took a look around. The cottage was essentially one very large room with the hearth situated in the middle.

“You did fine.”

“You weren’t there,” countered Laurel. “I am afraid it was sheer luck that all went well. I am much better with scrapes and cuts. Much simpler.”

“I was there. You did fine.” The news surprised her. She had sent Brighid to get the midwife, but when she didn’t arrive Laurel had assumed Brighid had been unsuccessful. Why had the midwife not come in to help?

“I’m sorry, milady. Hagatha promised me to silence,” pleaded Brighid, looking like she wanted to dissolve into nothingness.

“You were there?” Laurel asked, still not comprehending.

“Aye. Wanted to see what you were made of. I thought Aileen a fool to trust an English, but seems she understood more than I.”

“Well, umm, Hagatha, Aileen needs your help again.”

“Midwife,” corrected the redhead.

“Excuse me?”

“Call me midwife, English.” The nickname she called Laurel wasn’t exactly said derogatively, but it certainly was not a compliment, either. It was more like a statement of fact, not leaning one way or the other.

But loyal Brighid was not so easygoing. “Hagatha, you know you should refer to her as my lady, Lady Laurel or soon as Lady McTiernay.”

“Over me dead body will I call her by another term other than English.”

Laurel tried to defuse the situation. “It’s all right, Brighid. It is actually refreshing to hear someone call me something without a title.”

Brighid knew that her lady did not care much for titles and the respect they conveyed. But Brighid honored and loved Laurel, and proper deference was required. “But, Lady Laurel, you are just as much a Scot as you are English.”

“Is that right now?” said a surprised Hagatha. “Well, in that case I can’t be callin’ you English. Would insult the Scottish half of ye. Depending on me mood, I might call you Laurel.” Laurel was beginning to really like Hagatha. She was a character who kept her own code of ethics.

“So, midwife, I came here for Aileen,” she reminded Hagatha. “She tore while delivering, and she is still in quite a bit of pain.”

“Must have torn quite a bit then.”

“Yes. I thought to stitch her, but she was not open to the suggestion.”

“Hmm. Probably should have. Next time do. Tearing isn’t uncommon with bigger babes. Well, it’s too late to stitch now.” She went over to a cabinet and opened the doors. The shelves were filled with various ointments and herbs.

“You have an excellent collection,” Laurel spoke her thoughts aloud as she came closer to take a look.

“You know some of these, do you?”

“Only the ones used for fever and for wounds. I sometimes was allowed to help my mother tend to the soldiers, but I was very young.” She looked at the shelves, pointing to the pots with alder, centaury, common rue, and ground ivy.

“I hear you have been doing the same for the warriors after practice.”

“For a while, but the herbs are now all gone. In the spring, I was going to collect more and dry them.”

Hagatha reached up and grabbed a jar of ointment.

“Here. Have her use this twice a day and make a tea out of these,” she said, handing over a bag of dried herbs.

“What are these?”

“That,” she said, pointing at the jar, “will help with the healing. Those cloves will help with the pain. It’s safe for the baby too.” Hagatha started walking to the door, indicating the visit was over.

“Hagatha? Do you live here alone?”

“Ever since me man died. Don’t like company none nor socializing in the castle. The laird’s all right, though. A lot like his father.”

As they got on their horses to return, Hagatha reached up and grabbed a hold of Laurel’s hand. “I’m glad you came, Laurel. The laird’s a lucky man, or will be once he realizes what he’ll lose if he don’t let you be. Me man tried to change me once. Didn’t work out so well. Tried to change him, too. Finally, we struck a bargain to let each other be. Was happy ever since. You try it with the laird. You’ll see. You’ll be happy, too. It’s the only way, I tell you. Let the other be.” She turned and disappeared back inside in the cottage. Laurel looked forward to the next time she would get to visit with this special, shrewd woman.

The ride back to the castle took even longer with Brighid who was unused to riding far distances. Although they had left early and did not stay at Hagatha’s for any length of time, darkness overcame them long before they were near the castle walls.

Laurel could see fairly well in the moonlight and tried to lead Brighid along, keeping an eye out for danger. Thankfully, none came as they reached the plateau of rolling hills and cottages. In the distance, the castle walls could be seen. Silhouetted against the night were dozens of guards lining the walls, obviously searching for someone.

Me,
Laurel thought.
Oh, Lord, he really is going to lock me up forever.
She stopped their horses before entering the soldiers’ view. Reaching into her sporran, she handed Brighid the ointment and herbs. “Give them to Aileen in the morning with Hagatha’s instructions.”

Brighid tried to persuade Laurel to let her come and help explain the reason for their delay, but Laurel could not be swayed.

“Look up there, Brighid. Those men are looking for us right now. I have no idea how Laird McTiernay is going to respond to this, but I am pretty sure he is in a quarrelsome mood right now. I don’t want you to get caught in the middle of an argument. So I want you to ride directly home. I will see myself the rest of the way. It will be best if I face his fury alone.”

“But you told him where you were going. Everyone knows the distance to the midwife’s,” Brighid said naively.

“Yes, well, I don’t think that is going to matter, and, if you think on it, neither do you.”

“What will happen to you?”

Laurel tried to give a nonchalant hug. “He won’t hurt me, if that is your concern. I just doubt I will be let to leave the keep any time soon, even to visit Aileen and the baby.”

“Oh, milady! But you were doing it to help. Surely, that will make all the difference.”

“Unfortunately, the idea of me helping will only make things worse.”

She nudged Borrail forward and started to ride towards the castle gates. Just as she had guessed, she was immediately spotted by several of the guards lining the walls. She was surprised when she entered the keep and Conor did not come to greet her. She handed her reins to a stable boy and headed for her chambers.

“You must be Lady Laurel,” came a voice from the chapel doors. Laurel pivoted to see the most kind-looking priest she had ever seen. He had a white beard that matched his hair. His eyes were a deep brown and surrounded with wrinkles from years of smiling.

“I am…Father Lanaghly?”

“You surmise correctly. Conor will be glad you have returned safely.”

“Ummm, yes, I’m sure he will be. Is he here?”

“No. I believe that you have arrived before he and his men have returned.”

“Returned? But didn’t Neal or Fiona tell him where I went?”

“I believe so. He seemed to think you wouldn’t survive a trip that far out without guardsmen to assist you. Seems he was wrong.”

“Oh, Lord, he is going to be furious. I had absolutely no idea it would take so long. And, God as my witness, Brighid is the
slowest
rider,” she said absently, her eyes suddenly growing large as she realized what she had just uttered in front of the priest.