Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“ T his is me home.”
They were right outside of the cottage, and at Fia’s words, Laird Stuart brought the horse to a sudden halt by the fence. Naturally, it looked exactly the same as when she and Bane had left it, but even though it had only been a few days since then, it felt like a much longer time. Too many things had happened in the short time she had been in Castle Stuart, making the days stretch out and lengthen, and it suddenly felt as though she was returning to a place she hadn’t seen in years, a sudden wave of nostalgia crashing over her.
When that had subsided, though, all that was left was the fear that Laird Stuart would mock her for having lived in such a house, just like Callum had. She remembered his piercing words, the sting that came with them which spread all over her chest, making her feel worthless.
Why did I tell him? I should’ve said naethin’!
“Shall we go inside?” Laird Stuart asked and before Fia could protest, he was already dismounting the horse. The sudden movement jostled her and for a moment, every other concern disappeared from her mind as she desperately clutched onto the saddle to keep herself upright, but she soon realized there was no need for such worry. The moment Laird Stuart’s feet were on the ground, he reached for her, steadying her with a hand on the small of her back.
Hesitantly, Fia let him help her off the horse and the two of them made their way inside the cottage. It was a gloomy day, thick, grey clouds gathering over Duror, so the first thing Fia did once they were inside was to light up a few candles before she examined her surroundings.
Everything was just as she and Bane had left it. There had never been much in the cottage, but now it seemed even emptier than before, as they had taken most of the things they owned with them. All that remained the furniture and the kitchen and cleaning supplies, things they knew they wouldn’t need in the castle. There was a thin layer of dust on the surfaces now that there was no one to sweep and dust daily.
Now more than ever, Fia regretted pointing out the house to the laird. This was no place for a man like him. Seeing this, he would realize Fia was nothing but a peasant girl and then surely, he would have no interest in her anymore. If her true self wasn’t enough for Callum, how could it be for a laird?
“Such a cozy home,” Laird Stuart said, so quietly that it was as though he was talking to himself. Fia’s head snapped up from where she was lighting some more candles, surprised by the comment.
“Cozy?” she asked, blinking a few times.
Laird Stuart glanced around, taking in the worn furniture, the wooden beams on the roof, the old cups that were arranged by the stove. Then, he dragged his gaze over to Fia with a smile, tilting his head to the side.
“Aye,” he said. “Dinnae ye think so?”
There was nothing in Laird Stuart’s voice or manner to suggest he was mocking her. He sounded entirely sincere and for a moment, Fia managed to see herself and her previous home from his eyes—it was all foreign to him, surely, but he truly enjoyed what he saw. Perhaps it was the novelty of it or perhaps it was the fact that compared to his large keep, whose corridors were usually dimly lit and empty, cold in a way that a cottage could never be, he truly did find this place cozy and comfortable.
“I’m glad ye think so,” she said, instead of giving him a straight answer. “Would ye like tae sit? I can make some tea.”
She knew there was some left in the house, and so as Laird Stuart took a seat by the window, pulling a rickety chair there, Fia busied herself with getting a pot of water from the neighbors and lighting a fire in the hearth.
People were bound to flock to the cottage now that she had revealed her presence, but she didn’t mind. She only hoped the laird wouldn’t find it tiresome, being surrounded by half the village.
“How was it, growin’ up here?” the laird asked. “This is the Grahams’ cottage, is it nae?”
“It is,” Fia confirmed. “Ach, I couldnae complain. Bane an’ Tav were always kind tae me. Without them, I wouldnae have survived.”
She knew that in her bones. Had Tav not taken her in when her father abandoned her, she would have met her end all alone, in the streets. He and Bane were the only reason why she was still alive and the only reason why she had managed to do so well for herself.
“Tav?” Laird Stuart asked with a frown. “Is that another… brother?”
“Aye,” said Fia, forcing herself to swallow around the knot that suddenly formed in her throat. No matter her successes, no matter how happy her life became, she would never get over Tav’s disappearance. Neither she nor Bane had lost hope yet, but with every passing day, it was increasingly difficult to believe Tav would return. “He… he was taken in a raid. Bane an’ I have been lookin’ fer him ever since.”
“I’m sorry tae hear that,” said Laird Stuart, his voice filled with sympathy. “Has it been a long time?”
“A little over a year,” said Fia, once again busying herself with the tea, just so she would have something to do with her hands, something that would distract her from the matter at hand. She brought the two trembling cups over to the window, dragging another chair close to it so she could sit by the laird. “Sometimes it feels much longer.”
For a while, they sat there in silence. Fia was used to people not knowing what to say in response to this and so she often avoided the subject entirely, but with Laird Stuart, a part of her felt comfortable enough to mention Tav, no matter how painful it was to think of him. She was the first to break the silence, looking up from the depths of her cup to see Laird Stuart staring out of the window into the small garden and beyond, to the neighboring homes, which were just as small and dilapidated as hers.
“I’m sure this place looks very strange tae ye.”
Fia was aware it was her insecurity speaking once more, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted Laird Stuart to either confirm her suspicions that he thought less of her now that he had seen the cottage or to reassure her there was nothing wrong with it. Either outcome was welcome, as long as she got a definitive answer, one to which she could cling for the rest of the day.
“It reminds me o’ me chambers when I was a wee bairn,” said Laird Stuart, much to Fia’s surprise. He must have noticed the shocked look on her face, as then he chuckled and shook his head a little, saying, “Well, they werenae quite like this. But they were cozy like this, so it’s close enough in me mind. I used tae spend most o’ me time with me governess but I remember that me maither would come tae me chambers every night tae put me tae sleep.”
Fia couldn’t help but smile at that. She didn’t have many memories from her childhood—it was all a blur, weeks, months, even years bleeding together into a fog of memories that she could never place in a timeline. She was certain about one thing, though; her mother had never put her to sleep. Before meeting Tav and Bane, Fia had spent most of her days alone, with her parents giving her what she needed to survive but providing no warmth or affection. Growing up, she had often wondered why they had even had her when it was so obvious that they never wanted her. She had stopped questioning her parents’ behavior after a while, she had stopped thinking about them altogether, pushing what few memories she had to the back of her mind, into hidden crevices.
“She would always tell me a story,” Laird Stuart continued, his gaze growing distant as he stared out of the window once more. “She was a great storyteller, me maither, just like ye, Miss MacKenzie. Me faither was a practical man, but me maither loved her stories. She would never let me sleep without hearin’ one o’ them an’ I would always ask her fer more an’ more.”
Fia didn’t know what had happened to Laird Stuart’s parents, but she did know they were dead. Hearing him talk so fondly about his mother and his memories of her made her chest tighten with grief, her fingers curling tightly around the handle of her chipped cup. She had never experienced anything like that with her mother, but she could tell just how much it pained Laird Stuart to have lost his; how much he cherished those memories.
“How did she die?” Fia asked before she could stop herself, hoping the question wasn’t insensitive.
“They were killed,” said Laird Stuart. “Both o’ them.”
He said nothing more on the matter and Fia didn’t ask. It was not her place, nor did she want to dig up those painful memories for him.
Before she could find something to say to change the subject, there was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal several of her neighbors, who had apparently already noticed her arrival in Duror. There was a chorus of greetings, all of them rushing into the house to ask about her and her new life—at least until they noticed Laird Stuart sitting there, watching them with a pleasant smile on his face.
Fia didn’t know how many of them recognized him, but there was one thing for certain; they all knew he was someone important, dressed in such fine clothes as he was.
Laird Stuart stood and stepped towards the small crowd, the smile never waning from his lips. Fia watched him, wondering what he would do, but she could have never predicted he would simply introduce himself.
“Good afternoon’,” he said. “Laird Knox Stuart, pleased tae make yer acquaintance.”
The room was plunged in a stunned silence. Even Fia didn’t know what to say, as she had expected the laird to step out of the house and distance himself from the crowd, but he had done the exact opposite, drawing all the attention to himself.
Is he mad? Daesnae he ken they will pester him until we leave now?
Just as Fia thought, everyone descended like vultures upon the laird, some with praise and others with demands, but all of them speaking over each other, trying to make themselves heard. Laird Stuart took it with grace, though, bowing his head ever so slightly as though he wasn’t speaking to a group of peasants but rather nobles who had come to see him in his castle.
He moved with a confidence and grace that made even this cottage seem comparable to the great hall of his castle as he reassured them all that he would listen to them, as long as they spoke one at a time. Fia could only stare, dumbfounded, but this was all the confirmation she needed.
Laird Stuart didn’t consider any of this beneath him. He was not like Callum, Fia told herself. He was nothing like the man who had humiliated her.