Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“ A lright. Show me.”
Bane sat comfortably on a chair near the fireplace, arms crossed over his chest and gaze glued to Fia, who was trying to balance a book on her head while walking. Trying, it seemed to her, was the key word in her situation. She couldn’t take a single step without the book falling off her head, and every time she moved even imperceptibly, she felt it slide off and had to steady it with her hands, frantically keeping it in place.
“Dae ye truly think this is the right way tae learn how tae walk?” she asked, exasperated by the multiple failed efforts she had already made. With a huff, she tossed the book to the side and began to pace back and forth, shoulders hunched and head hanging low.
“This is what I’ve heard some lasses dae,” said Bane with a small shrug. “I’m as new tae all this as ye are. It’s nae as though I was raised in a castle!”
That was true, Fia thought. Perhaps it would be more helpful to be coached by someone who had spent their entire life in a castle like this, either among nobles or as a noble themselves, but where could she find such a person? She didn’t want to ask any of the maids or servants, and she certainly didn’t want to ask Effie, as she hardly knew her. What other choice did she have than to turn to Bane, who could at least watch and critique her as she tried to act like a proper lady?
Their training had hardly even begun, though, and Fia was already frustrated beyond her limits. Holding a book on her head as she walked seemed not only foolish, but also useless and impossible. Were there truly women out there who could do this, she wondered? Was it some sort of test all noble girls had to pass?
“All ye have tae dae is keep yer shoulders back an’ yer head up,” said Bane as he observed her closely. “Which I suppose is the exact opposite o’ what ye’re doin’ now.”
Fia hardly had the energy to even glare at him. It was more of a hassle than she could have ever predicted, and for a moment, she started to think that perhaps she had made a mistake to think she could win the laird’s affections.
Nay, I cannae think like this. If I think I cannae dae it, then I certainly willnae succeed.
She had to believe in herself. She had already made it so far and could not backing out now, otherwise she would spend the rest of her life wondering if she could, in fact, have charmed Laird Stewart, but had not even tried.
“What if ye simply act the opposite of how ye usually act?” Bane suggested, and though his suggestion seemed entirely genuine, Fia couldn’t help but take offence in it.
“What dae ye mean?” she demanded. “Am I nae good enough the way I am?”
“Ye’re the one who claims that!” Bane pointed out, throwing his hands up in the air. “Ye’re the one who said ye must learn how tae act like a lady, so just… dinnae be yerself!”
“I’m a lady!” Fia said, though it sounded weak even to her ears. “I can be a lady if I so wish.”
“Can ye?” Bane asked and Fia didn’t like his mocking tone one bit. “Show me a curtsy, then.”
Fia couldn’t help but glare at him. They both knew very well that curtsies were her weak spot, the one thing she had never learned to do well.
With trembling legs, Fia took the fabric of her tunic gingerly between her fingers and gave Bane a curtsy—the most unsteady, ungraceful curtsy she had ever had the misfortune of giving. There was something about the act she couldn’t quite grasp—the delicate movements, the grace that seemed to come effortlessly to noble women. Was it something innate, Fia wondered? Was it something noble women were born with, something she would never manage?
Surely, that couldn’t be the case. No one was born knowing such things, Fia reasoned, and so she could learn how to do it too. She would simply have to work harder, since she had had no one to teach when she was a child.
“Excellent,” Bane said flatly, clearly unimpressed by her efforts. “Is this how ye plan tae impress the laird?”
“Why cannae I simply bow tae him?” Fia asked with a sigh as she threw herself in the nearest chair, sinking into it and curling into herself. “It is so much easier tae bow. Curtsies are foolish! Foolish, I tell ye!”
“An’ yet so many other lasses manage tae dae it,” Bane pointed out, entirely unaffected by her outburst. It wasn’t the first, after all—far from it, in fact. “Come, Fia, ye ken ye can dae this. Ye only have tae keep on practicing until it comes naturally, like everythin’ else.”
There was both logic and merit to what Bane was saying, but Fia hadn’t tried to pick up a new skill in years. Aside from healing. Everything she learned regarding that came naturally to her. She had been doing it for so long and she had a solid foundation of skills. But when it came to learning something new, at first, it seemed almost impossible. There was no instant gratification, no signs of quick improvement, though she was well aware she should not be expecting them from her first try.
“I’m useless,” Fia said, waving a hand dismissively. “What dae I ken about bein’ a lady? I’m a peasant lass, Bane. Everyone kens that. Maybe Callum was right…”
Would acting like a lady even help her? Sure, the laird liked refined women, but in the end, she would still be a peasant girl, regardless of the way she presented herself.
“Ye’re nae useless,” Bane said as he stood and approached her, slamming his hand on the top of her head with such force that her neck almost caved in. “Keep tryin’ the curtsies an’ the walk. And let us see if ye can eat like a lady. They say that’s the most important part.”
“How does a lady eat?” Fia asked as Bane dragged her to the small dining table in the kitchen area. He pushed her into one of the chairs and then proceeded to put some dried meat, cheese, and stew on the table before taking his seat across from her.
“Nae with her hands,” Bane said as Fia reached for a piece of dried meat with her bare hand. Quickly, she snatched it back, but then just stared at the spread before her dubiously.
“It’s dried meat,” she said. “Why would I eat it with a fork?”
“Because that is what ladies dae,” Bane pointed out. “In the village, ye can eat anythin’ ye want with yer hands, but here I’m certain everyone uses forks an’ knives fer all kinds of food, Fia.”
Forks fer dried mea… how dae they even manage that?
Reluctantly, Fia grabbed the knife and the fork and immediately realized that she probably looked even less than refined because of the way she was gripping the utensils. Bane chuckled as she tried to adjust her grip, forcing her fingers to curl around the utensils elegantly. That only served to make her grip unsteady.
“Go on, then,” Bane encouraged her. “Eat.”
I’ve been usin’ a fork an’ a knife me whole life! I can dae this.
It was soon revealed to Fia that eating dried meat with a fork and a knife was, in fact, much more difficult than she could have ever anticipated. It was a tough cut, the fork and the knife slipping against the plate, and by the time she had managed to cut off a piece, she had all but worked up a sweat. Across from her, Bane watched with an amused smile on his face, but Fia knew for certain he wouldn’t be doing much better if he was the one trying to eat that way.
“I give up!” she declared, tossing the cutlery on the table with a weary sigh. “I give up! I cannae dae this anymore.”
“Will ye truly give up?” Bane asked, knowing well that Fia’s response would be negative. She simply didn’t have it in her to give up. No matter how much she complained and whined about a task being difficult, she always saw it through.
Pressing her lips into a firm line, she reached for the cutlery once more, sitting up a little straighter.
“An’ this is a… marriage proposal.”
Knox glared at Magnus from across his desk. The two of them were in his study, though it was already late and they should have both been resting. The letters that had come in that very day had remained unsorted due to more pressing matters to be dealt with. Now, though, with a cup of wine in his hand and the fire crackling in the fireplace, he had decided he could take a few moments to go through the most important documents before retiring for the night.
He hadn’t expected a marriage proposal in the pile of letters.
“A marriage proposal?” he asked. “Are ye serious?”
“Och aye,” said Magnus. “Well, a request fer a meetin’, at least. They are very interested in an alliance.”
“Everyone is,” said Knox with a sigh, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. The mere topic of marriage was enough to bring forth a pounding headache, even if he knew his council was eager for him to wed. They had made their desires explicitly known, pestering him day after day whenever they had no other important issues to discuss. Now that they all feared an attack was imminent, they had stopped mentioning it, with this offer, they would surely bring it up again.
If it was a particularly good offer, from a clan that could help them both financially and with their forces, the council would consider it very seriously, Knox knew.
“I’ve had enough o’ these noble lasses presented tae me like prized cattle by their families,” he said. He brought the cup to his lips and took a sip, then another, before finally making the decision to drain it fully. There was not enough wine in the world to help him deal with this. “An’ those lasses… all so concerned with… with appearances!”
“What else would they be concerned with?” Magnus asked, blinking at him in confusion. “That is what they are meant tae dae, is it nae? They’re meant tae find a good husband an’ secure a good alliance fer their clans. How else would they dae that if they were nae concerned with appearances?”
It was a valid question, but not one Knox wanted to consider. He didn’t care about appearances. All he cared about was forging a natural and personal connection with a woman, to find someone who would love him for who he was instead of going after his title and an alliance for another clan.
Of course, that was nothing but wishful thinking. Love had little to do with marriage, he had come to find out. Some lairds and ladies were lucky enough to fall in love after they were wedded, but for most, a marriage was only a matter of business and convenience.
Would he be one of the lucky ones, he wondered? Or would he be doomed to spend a lifetime with a woman he didn't love?
“I can almost hear ye thinkin’,” Magnus teased, tossing the letter into the pile of documents that would be inspected the following day. Knox was thankful for it; he didn’t want to have to make a decision about this in the middle of the night, when he was already not thinking straight. Most mornings, he was not as resistant to the idea of marriage. It was only at night, late, with a drink in his hand and no one around but Magnus to judge him, that he resented the very idea of it and wished that things were different.
Sometimes, the life o’ a peasant is simpler.
“Ye ken what I think about marriage,” Knox said.
“I ken,” said Magnus, running a hand through his hair to push the strands back. “An’ ye ken what I think about marriage.”
“Ye were lucky tae find a lass ye love an’ who loves ye,” Knox pointed out. He didn’t know if he had ever seen two people more in love than Magnus and Effie, and though he was happy that they had found each other, he doubted it was a common thing. Love didn’t often occur like that, not in real life. “I dinnae ken if I will be so lucky.”
“It’s late, Knox,” said Magnus, as he placed his cup on the table and stood. “Go tae sleep. We can discuss this on the morrow.”
His friend knew him better than anyone. Sleep sounded like a good idea; if nothing else, he would get to rest and maybe feel a little better about the entire situation the following morning.
“Alright,” he said, pushing himself off the chair and following Magnus out of the study. Just as he crossed the door, the image of Fia there, in this room, popped into his mind. He remembered the way she had choked on the whisky and then proceeded to laugh along with him. He remembered the warmth and sincerity of her gratitude, the way she seemed so effortlessly beautiful and kind.
That was the kind of woman he wanted—someone who was not pretending, someone who was not wearing a mask. But such women were hard to find.