Sacrificing his Highland Heart by Kenna Kendrick
Chapter Eight
“Susan,” Rose said as soon as they’d escaped the library, “Is there a room where I might write to my family? A private parlor?”
“Of course, my Lady! Forgive me again, we have nae yet gotten tae the part of the castle. There is a beautiful room, used by the old Lady of the Castle, and it has a lovely view of the sea. Come, I shall show ye.”
“Thank you.” Together they walked in silence, and Rose let her mind wander. Who was this man she had married? He was brutish in the way he filled a room and spoke boldly and roughly. And yet, she couldn’t deny it. There had been kindness in his eyes when he spoke to Susan. He did not yell or ask what they were doing in the library, for that was what she had expected. He talked of his mother with such a tender tone that Rose’s heart had ached, and she’d almost burst into tears. It made the longing for her own mother rise up again with a vengeance.
They shared that sorrow, indeed. And the fact that he had such a beautiful library that he used was another mystery. Surely a Scottish laird was far too busy to fill his time with reading.
Well, I do not know precisely what a Scottish laird does, but I should think they would be terribly busy. Not unlike an English lord. Her own father had been busy with those living on his land, and sometimes, he hardly had a moment’s rest. But sometimes, she thought that was merely the kindness of her father, who gave of himself, even more so especially since her mother passed.
“Here we are.” Susan broke into her thought and pushed open another wooden door. Rose looked around. They had traveled to the far end of the castle. “Ye shall never be disturbed here, my Lady. It is all for ye.”
She grinned again, aware that she was giving pleasure. To be alone was another of Rose’s great solaces. As she stepped into the private parlor, she felt herself slowly unfurl and the tension release from her muscles. “Why, I do not quite know what to say.” Straight ahead of her were expansive windows that provided an unparalleled view of the sea. She put her hand to her mouth and stepped forward to open one of the glass panes. The sound of waves crashing upon the shore filled the room.
She turned back to Susan, who was watching her closely. “Susan, this is the most beautiful view I have ever seen. What an excellent place for a parlor.”
Her eyes moved around the rest of the room. There was a long wooden desk with ornate carvings on the legs. Paper and ink were on it, and there were two comfortable chairs and a small table on the other side of the room sitting in front of a small hearth. “Och, I shall light that for ye whenever ye like. It is just that we havenae had a lady of the castle for so long now.”
Rose nodded. There were two large wooden bookshelves as well, covered in volumes. “Again, a very loved room. Thank you, Susan.”
“Donnae thank me,” she laughed. “Ye must thank yer husband. Before ye arrived, he had this cleaned. It had been years since anyone had stepped inside. I think it was too difficult for his father and then for him.”
Rose nodded. “I understand.” She slid a hand over the chair behind the desk, feeling the fabric underneath her skin. This was hers now, all hers.
Clapping her hands, Susan moved to the door. “Well, I shall leave ye tae do yer work. Ye may give the letters tae me, and I will send them with the messenger. And I shall bring ye wine if ye like? Or if ye would prefer a meal?”
She had already eaten a small breakfast in her room after Susan had arrived that morning, and she was not quite yet ready for another meal. “No, I am well. Wine will be just fine, thank you.”
And then she was gone. With reverence, Rose sat down on her desk and slid her hands over the wood, freshly shined. Her fingertips moved to the paper, feeling its roughness. “A desk of my very own,” she breathed, her heart fluttering in her chest. It was the same feeling she had when behind the desk at her father’s house, and yet it was so much more. There, while her brother and father had been away, she oversaw the whole estate, and the desk had given her that power and that freedom, but it had still been her father’s desk. He was always waiting to come back and claim it.
But now, this was a desk of her very own which no one would take from her. She chided herself for her rather silly thoughts, but deep down, she was filled with joy. Marriage was many things, she realized, even though it was only her first day, but for a woman, there was a great sense of freedom in it. Here was her own private space where she could do as she pleased.
She closed her eyes and took a breath. The scent of the sea was in the air, as well as the scent of leather and wood. She would gather herbs to burn, fill the room with a fresh scent, and make it her own. After a few more seconds of reveling in her newfound space, she took up the pen, dipped it in ink, and began to write her first letter to her brother.
* * *
Euan’s plan of thinking in the library had gone terribly awry. He’d sat down with a sigh in front of the hearth, as was his wont, but his thoughts became even more tangled. Rose lingered in his mind as well as the sound of her laughter. He knew that it was she who laughed, for when he turned the corner to find her and Susan, Rose was the one smiling. He had seen it from an angle, but it made her one hundred times lovelier than she already was. At his arrival, the smile had quickly disappeared, and he had felt a pang of disappointment.
He was used to people not smiling in his presence but not women, generally. Susan was a perfect example of that, all dimples and parted lips, beaming cheeks. To have a woman look at him with such disdain was another matter entirely. He battled with himself for a while, feeling the great urge to kiss her again. She must realize that he was wanted by many women and that she should feel grateful for being chosen by him. Whispers were that many women had been interested in his hand. A few families on his land had offered their daughters, but he’d rejected every one of them.
He had not been ready for marriage, and even now, he wasn’t prepared, but it was merely a necessity. He was certain that there might be some backlash at his having married an Englishwoman, but the clan would understand when they found out why he had done so. After an unsuccessful time of relaxation and thought in the library, he walked to the stable where Seamus had informed the groom.
His horse, Sgiathan, was waiting for him. “Good lad,” he said to the young groom before jumping into the saddle, taking the reins, and racing off to the farthest hill from the castle. It was called Laird’s Hill, for the lairds would always ride to the top to look out over their land and spy enemies or watch the villagers at their work. Or so his father had told him.
He did the same every few days, but it was mostly to get away for a while, exercise the horse, and remind himself that he was the laird and doing the right thing by his people. Once he reached the top, he took a deep breath, slowing down the horse. He leaned forward and patting Sgiathan’s neck. He had kept up his father’s legacy. Every house on his land had an occupation, whether farming or smithing or shopkeeping. It didn’t matter. There was no one without food or a place to go. The small village closest to his castle was one he frequented often. The ale and wine for the castle were made there, and he and his men would often frequent the taverns.
He wondered for a moment if Rose should like to go there, but he ignored it, inwardly reprimanding himself for thinking too much about his wife. There was so much to do now that he was returned for good from the war. The returning men would be seen to. Their widows had been cared for e during their absence. Injuries would have to be dealt with, for it was not uncommon that men lost an arm or a leg or more, and their lives were completely changed. Their burdens were now his.
He took one more look at the farmland and the forests below the hill and turned Sgiathan toward the sea. The sound of hooves on the solid earth revitalized him, and he knew he had made an excellent choice to come riding. He would be back to his usual self as soon as he returned to the castle. He would be able to focus on his duties; he was sure of it. When Sgiathan reached the sand, they rode a little, but then Euan stopped and jumped down. Sgiathan was well-trained, and he would not leave. He stood facing the sea, the salty air filling his lungs, breathing new life into him with each gust.
The castle was at his back, like a watchman observing him, watching over him. He would come to no harm, not that there would be danger in the region for some time. After war always came a time of peace, however brief. France might be interested in invading soon enough, but he wouldn’t think about that now. All he wanted now was an escape. He began to remove his clothing, piece by piece. First, he removed his woolen jacket and then his shirt and trousers until he stood naked in front of the ocean, the icy water curling about his ankles. Many in the clan didn’t know how to swim and had a deadly fear of the sea, but his father had taught him to enjoy its power, to give into it.
Before his body refused to continue on because of the cold, he hurried to the frigid water and dove in, every vessel in his body screaming into life. When he surfaced, a smile was on his face. This was true freedom. He was in the hands of the waves now. He enjoyed their steady flow over him as he trod water.
“I wonder if my new English wife can swim or if she has ever even seen the sea.” He knew her estate was near Carlisle, far from the coast, but he had no knowledge of her past. Had she traveled much?
Instinctively, he turned his eyes to the castle. It looked slightly smaller now, less towering now that he was far away in the water. After a few minutes, he found his way back on the beach, rivulets of icy water rolling down his skin. He wiped a hand over his face and beard and through his hair, droplets flying in a frenzy around him. The April wind nearly chilled him to the bone, but he felt invigorated. As he walked towards Sgiathan and to his pile of dry clothes, he looked up at the castle, and there he saw a young woman leaning out of a window, looking at him. That young woman was none other than the newly married Lady Rede.
