The Witch of Black Isle by Keira Montclair
Chapter Seven
Ethan did exactly as he was told. He nocked the first arrow, and it flew wide of the target. He’d been about to admit that Gavin had worked with him a bit, but after that failure, he quickly changed his mind.
“That was your first one, Ethan. Do not despair. You held onto it, and though you missed, you were not far off,” Gwyneth said, standing to his side. “Try it again.”
He did what she suggested and nocked another one. This time he caught just the top of the target. It bounced off, but it was a hit, nonetheless.
“Good job. You must have tried this already.”
“I did shoot a couple with Gavin when he was teaching several of us, but ’twas most difficult because of the number of us shooting. May I shoot again?”
“You can shoot as many as you like. You must find all your arrows and return them to the basket, as long as they are not broken. We keep the fletchings, so if you break any, please return the goose feathers to the fletchings basket.” Gwyneth crossed her arms and observed his next two shots.
“Turn your stance, Ethan.” Rather than touch him, she showed him with her own body, which he appreciated. “Stand like this and have your arm up like this. Your grip could improve.” She opened her palm and pointed to the creases down the middle of her hand. “See these lines? This is where you want to grip the bow. It’s much easier.”
Ethan was impressed with her teaching. Her instructions were specific, much more than Gavin had been. He guessed this came from her experience. He preferred specific steps to general comments and was good at emulating a skilled teacher. He did as she instructed, mimicking her stance, settling the grip the way she suggested. Then he let one fire.
“Great job, Ethan! You hit the target. Not the center yet, but you hit the target square. Keep practicing. I’m going back to the keep, but please stay as long as you can. The light will give out on you in another hour but do what you are comfortable with. I think you could be an excellent archer.”
He tried his best not to blush from this praise, but he was pleased and said, “My thanks to you.”
He wasn’t there for long before two other men came along, one with a lad of about seven years old. The older of the two men approached him quickly. “We have not seen you before on Ramsay land. Your name?”
The other man stared at him, his gaze narrowing. “Did we not see you at the wedding? Are you related to Marcas Matheson?”
“I am his brother, and I came along with Jennet.” He wasn’t going to give any more information out other than what he was asked. He didn’t know these men, either. “And you are?”
“I am Bethia’s husband, Donnan. This is our son Drystan, and Molly’s husband, Tormod. You are familiar with Jennet’s family then, I presume. Bethia is her eldest sister. Lily is a half-sister. Molly is her cousin.”
“Greetings to you all. I am here to learn and practice archery while Jennet works to find out the cause of her sire’s illness.”
Drystan innocently asked his father, “Is this the man you said was different, Papa? The man who was smart like Jennet?”
Donnan hushed his son, then glanced at Ethan. “My apologies for my son. He’s only seven winters.”
“No offense taken. I am aware of how others see me. I see you all as different, but I’m familiar with the terms others have used for me. I’ll not bother you and continue my practice, if you don’t mind.” He didn’t need to converse with these people he’d probably never see again once he left Ramsay land.
Donnan turned to Tormod and said, “Work with Drystan for a few moments, would you? I’d like to speak with Ethan alone.”
Tormod took Drystan over to a different area where they wouldn’t interfere with their conversation. “Have I done something wrong, Donnan?” Ethan asked. He’d only done what Gwyneth had suggested.
“Nay, I just wished to chat, if you don’t mind. While Bethia and Jennet adore their half-sister, their bond is verra strong, so I wish to get to know the man who thinks he is good enough for our dearest Jennet.”
Ethan set his bow down to give his full attention to Donnan. “May I ask why you doubt me?”
Donnan crossed his arms, furrowed his brow, then said, “I am sure you’re aware of how bright Jennet is, but—”
“I am fully aware of her intelligence and her abilities. We have much in common in that sense. I consider myself intelligent too. Those and other reasons helped me to decide to pursue Jennet.”
“It should not be the only reason. Have you met Bethia?”
“Aye, briefly, at the wedding on Black Isle.” He did recall the beautiful woman because Jennet was drawn to her. He could also see the resemblance between the two. Their facial bones were about the same, but their coloring was different. Jennet carried the same brown eyes but had more gold in her hair than Bethia.
“Bethia is as bright as Jennet, but she focuses her talents on animals. You’ll never meet another woman as kind and brilliant as my wife. Jennet has the potential to be the same, but she’s young. I would worry about a man who pursues Jennet just for her mind because there is so much more to her.”
“What other reasons would there be?” Ethan was more confused than ever. He was not impressed by appearances, as many men were, and he certainly did not judge a lass based on her curves, a comment he often heard from other warriors.
“You don’t care how she looks?” Donnan broke into a small grin with his question.
“Jennet’s looks are pleasing enough.”
“I’ve reconsidered. You may be exactly what she needs, Ethan. So please tell me how you wish to pursue her. What exactly are your plans in following her to her homeland? Are you planning to steal a bride?”
Ethan was taken aback by this suggestion. “Nay, I’d not do such a thing. My brother told me if I was interested in Jennet, which I am, then I need to spend more time with her. ’Tis what I’m doing.”
Donnan stared at him for a long time, then said, “I believe you could make a good match. But please be careful with her tender feelings, Ethan, or I will come after you.”
“Jennet does not have tender feelings.”
Donnan paced in a small circle, chuckling a wee bit, something Ethan wasn’t able to interpret. “You’re wrong. She does have tender feelings. Just like you do.”
“Nay, I do not.”
Donnan stopped in front of him. “You don’t miss your parents?”
He’d said the one thing Ethan couldn’t argue with. But everyone would miss their parents. It wasn’t indicative of feelings. “That means naught to me.”
“Your parents’ death?”
“Nay, I meant that missing my parents doesn’t mean I have feelings.”
Donnan scuffed his boots into the dirt, studying it for a moment. “Aye, it does, Ethan. You have feelings, and Jennet does too. For some reason, the two of you have learned how to hide your feelings. That quality may not always serve you well. You have tender feelings, and so does Jennet. She is verra upset about her sire’s illness, and if she cannot help fix him, she will be inconsolable. Do you understand that, Ethan? Can you think how you could help her if that happens? Because if you can figure that out, I believe the two of you might suit each other well.”
He didn’t know. Had no idea, in fact. Nothing could bring one’s parents back, so how could he help at all? “I don’t know.”
“Let me suggest a few things, then I’ll not bother you any longer.” He stepped closer and asked, “Will you consider my words?”
“Aye, I’ll listen and consider your advice, though I would consider it better if you were one of my brothers.”
“Fair enough,” Donnan answered. “Here is what I would suggest, because it works well with her sister, something your brothers wouldn’t know. You can listen to her when she’s upset, listen to her and try to reason through the illness, but most of all, there’s one thing that will help her more than anything else.”
“What?”
“Hold her. If you hold a woman and allow her to cry, she’ll ease her burden much faster than any other way.”
Ethan swallowed hard, not liking that at all. He could listen to Jennet quite easily. He was taken with her strong mind and her ability to reason. But holding and touching her was something entirely different. Of course, Donnan didn’t know how he felt, didn’t know that Ethan was uncomfortable touching others, women in particular.
“You’ll do fine, Ethan, if you remember that and help her when she needs it.” Donnan smiled and walked away, then offered over his shoulder, “And don’t be afraid to hold her.”
Ethan felt doomed to fail simply because he was afraid to hold her. It was something he wasn’t prepared to do and may never be able to do. The task before him seemed insurmountable, and he feared that he was going to let Jennet slip away from him.
Perhaps it was time for him to take his leave. Pursuing Jennet had proven to be more complicated and demanding than he’d realized. Donnan had spelled it out quite clearly, and he was married to Jennet’s sister, after all. He would know exactly what Jennet needed.
He couldn’t hold her, and she would need it if she lost her sire.
He needed to rethink his plan. Jennet had much to do and did not have much time to spend with him. She’d spend her time with her family, and especially with her sire. He’d be no help at all, and in fact, would probably be in the way.
And there was just no way he could hold her when she began to cry.
He’d practice a few more arrows, sleep in the stables overnight, then take his leave on the morrow. When Jennet returned to Black Isle, then he’d consider pursuing her again.
No matter what happened, he’d learned something he couldn’t deny. If there were such a thing as love, he guessed it was how he felt for her. The more he was around her, the more he admired her. Everything about her was sweet to him—her scent, her mind, her soft heart as a healer. But he’d need time to prepare himself to be all she needed him to be.
Talking with Donnan had helped him determine an important fact. He had to prepare himself for this journey with Jennet.
This was a fine plan. He’d pursue her back on Black Isle when he was better prepared.