Chapter 6
The letter burned through River’s pocket.
She could feel it there, even if it was a small, almost weightless thing—nothing more than a parchment folded up and stamped with her brother’s signet.
The man with the sword in his right hand and the crown by his left was instantly recognizable to her and to everyone else who knew of her clan, and River had quickly placed it in her pocket, hiding it there ever since the messenger had delivered it an hour prior.
She didn’t want to read it. She wasn’t going to. There was an entire drawer, locked and forgotten, where she kept Aidan’s letters.
What if he blames me for what happened to our maither?
“Look!” called Colby next to her, pointing out of the window. “The sun’s out again.”
River glanced out of the window over her shoulder.
It was true; she hadn’t noticed it, but her sitting room was bathed in light once more, even though earlier that morning it looked as though it would rain.
The wind had quieted down and the clouds had parted, and she hadn’t even noticed because she was too busy thinking about that damned letter.
What if he kent what our maither did? What if he helped her try to kill those women and those bairns?
What if he helped her kill Arya’s and Colby’s maither?
River’s fingertips brushed against the plush velvet of the couch where she had been sitting for the better part of the past hour, while the children played on their own.
They had noticed something was wrong with her; they always did.
Every time, River assured them she was fine, but on the days when she received Aidan’s letters, it was harder to pretend.
They had been close once. They had been close, and now River was accusing him of terrible things in her mind.
Nay, this isnae like Aidan...he wouldnae kill innocent people.
Then again, she had thought the same of her mother. Who would have thought the woman was capable of such cruel acts?
And then there was the matter of Archer, who was so different now to the man she knew.
There were still parts of the old him there; she had seen it.
But she couldn’t bear this newfound interest in her.
She couldn’t bear the way he looked at her, the way he touched her so casually, like their wedding had meant something.
For an entire year, they had spent their lives apart, and River had grown accustomed to it.
Now, the more he tried to approach her, the more she wanted to shrink away from him, to hide, to keep things as they were.
It was too late for them to be husband and wife in the traditional sense. Before their wedding night, River had prepared herself for it—and her mother had done her fair share to convince her that sharing her body with her husband was her duty. But now she dreaded the night that was to come.
What is he expectin’ of me? Does he think I will simply allow him to bed me now that he finds it convenient?
River had isolated herself in the eastern wing specifically because she had no desire to become Archer’s pawn in any way. He had allowed it, and he had shown no interest in her. Now, she had to find a way to make him lose his interest once more.
Maybe he will remember soon...maybe I daenae have to fash so much over this because in the end, it willnae matter. He will remember who he is and he will remember he has nae desire for me or for heirs.
River heard a sigh next to her as Arya came to sit on the couch by her side. The girl threw her head back, letting it dangle over the back of the couch, staring at the window behind them.
River’s mood was starting to affect everyone, it seemed.
“Alright!” River called, slamming her hands on the couch and standing up. “Let us go for a walk. It’s a nice day, it seems, and we daenae have to be locked up in here.”
“Outside?” Finlay asked, and River caught him half-standing from where he had perched himself on the windowsill.
“Outside!” Colby shouted, running with his hands in the air to the door. Even Arya perked up, standing up like a spring from the couch.
“Aye,” said River. “Why?”
Finlay gave a small shrug, but he didn’t speak. He only stared at River thoughtfully, as if there was something he wanted to say but kept to himself with great difficulty. River didn’t pay him much mind, though. A walk would do them all some good.
Especially me. As long as it takes me mind off Archer.
I only have to keep busy until tonight. And then, when the time comes, I’ll see what I’ll do.
The moment they stepped out of the eastern wing, Colby and Arya at the front, running around, and River and Finlay at the back, with him always walking right by her side, she regretted ever leaving her chambers.
Every pair of eyes in the castle was trained on her, following her every step, her every movement.
The clansmen, the guards, the maids—all of them tracked her around each hallway, each room, even outside in the courtyard.
They’re nae used to seein’ me. But must they truly stare like this?
“Are ye alright?” asked Finlay quietly, so that only River would hear him.
“Aye,” said River. The truth was that her mind was still, even now, more preoccupied by the fact that she was going to be spending the night with Archer than with anything else. Not even the stares were enough to quiet down the storm in her mind.
“We can go back inside if ye wish,” Finlay pointed out.
“The bairns—”
“The bairns can play inside,” he said, interrupting her. “Or I can task a maid with keepin’ an eye on them out here.”
But River shook her head. She wasn’t going to leave their side. Neither Colby nor Arya took it well when she wasn’t near, often to the point of tears. Their pain was still too big, their trauma too fresh. She couldn’t leave them alone, not even for a moment.
“It’s fine,” she insisted. “They’re only curious, the people. They daenae see me out here often.”
“Whenever ye wish to leave, just say the word,” Finlay said, and then fell silent. River saw the way his gaze hardened, though, whenever someone stared at them for a little too long—and she was grateful for it.
The weather had turned and the sun shone above the castle.
The roses in the gardens filled the courtyard with their fragrance, thick and heavy in the early summer heat.
A breeze tangled River’s dark hair, which she had left flowing freely down her back, and rustled the lace sewn over the hem of her dress.
Everyone in the courtyard seemed to be in good spirits, even the guards who had been standing by the gates for hours, keeping watch.
Everyone but two women00maids, by the look of them, who had cornered another one in a shady nook near the castle walls.
River came to a sudden halt upon noticing the scene before her. Finlay stopped by her side, for a moment surprised by the sudden stop, before he too noticed what was happening.
The two maids had their backs on River and she couldn’t quite see their expressions. She could hear the tone of their voices, though, the way they mocked and provoked the other woman, who was looking around as if trying to find an escape.
She would find none. The two maids had caged her between themselves and the wall, and she would have to push past them to get away.
River doubted she would dare.
“Why daenae ye go back to where ye came from?” one of them asked. “We daenae want yer kind here.”
“Aye, go back to London,” said the other one.
“I’m from Culross,” said the girl.
“Why do ye sound so funny, then, if ye’re from Culross?”
“That’s what people sound like in Culross.”
“Ye sound Sassenach to me,” said the first woman. “Doesnae she sound like a Sassenach?”
“Aye,” said the other. “Because she is. She lies, she’s nae from Culross. Tell the truth, where are ye truly from?”
“Culross,” said the girl drily.
“Well, that’s still right next to the Sassenachs,” said the first woman with a shrug. “Bet they rubbed off more than their accent on ye.”
By then, Arya and Colby had noticed something was wrong, too, and they had come near River, pausing their game. River approached the three women, her footsteps deliberately heavy, and the two who had cornered the poor girl turned to look at her.
River didn’t know what she expected; an apology, perhaps, or the two of them scurrying away, embarrassed to be caught by the Lady of the Clan. Instead, the two women hardly acknowledged her at all before they turned back to the third girl, continuing their harassment.
“Well, go back to Culross,” said one of the maids.
The other one elbowed her in the ribs. “What good is that goin’ to do? She’s nae from Culross, nae truly.”
“I truly am,” said the girl.
No one expected River to intervene, and so no one paid her much mind. They weren’t used to her being involved in household matters. Disputes like this between maids would normally fall under her jurisdiction, but no one cared what she had to say about it.
But they would.
“I think that’s quite enough,” she said, stepping closer to the three women. “Why are ye bein’ so cruel to this poor lass? What is the problem here?”
The two maids had the decency to lower their gazes. One of them mumbled, “Naethin’, me lady.”
But it was too late. River had already seen the whole thing.
“Dae ye take me for a fool?” she asked. “I was standin’ right here, listenin’ to ye and neither of ye cared. Nae only were ye rude to this lass but ye showed nae respect towards me. Towards yer lady.”
The two women mumbled some half-hearted apologies in response. Behind them, the girl pushed herself off the wall, her eyes never once leaving River.
“Ye’re both to leave the castle immediately,” River said. “I will notify the housekeeper that ye arenae welcome here anymore.”
The two women blanched, their gazes snapping up to River.
“Me lady,” said one of them, “where will we go? What...what will we do?”
“Ye should have thought about that before ye ran yer mouths,” River pointed out. “Why daenae ye go back to where ye came from?”
“But me lady—”
“Ye heard her,” said Finlay, stepping between the two women and River. “Go now. Keep what little dignity ye have left.”
The two women, seeing that they couldn’t change River’s mind, scurried off. The moment they were gone, the girl rushed to River and gave her a clumsy curtsy, one that had more enthusiasm than skill.
“Thank ye, me lady,” she said. “I...I am at yer service, forever. Me name is Layla. Ye have nae idea, nae idea what ye’ve done for me.
The two of them, they were always findin’ me alone and tellin’ me all these.
..these vile things, ye should have heard them, the way they spoke to me, but then ye came and we’re even sendin’ them away, I cannae believe we’re sending them away—”
“Layla,” said River, holding up a hand to stop her, as she suspected the girl would simply keep talking forever if she didn’t. “It’s alright. Ye daenae deserve to be treated like this.”
“Aye, me lady,” said Layla, her blonde hair swaying over her back with every animated nod of her head. “It isnae common, daenae think this is what happens in the castle, truly, its’s only the two of them, they have it out for me—”
“Well, we took care of it,” River said, once again interrupting her. “Daena fash, they willnae bother ye anymore. But what was the issue?”
“They daenae like that I’m a lowlander,” said Layla.
“I honestly daenae think I sound that much different from them. Aye, maybe I speak a little differently, but I’m still a Scot!
And aye, I may be a quarter English but that doesnae make me so much different from them!
How is it me fault me grandmaither married a Sassenach or that I’m from Culross?
It’s a lovely place too if ye ever visit, me lady, it’s so much sunnier than here—”
“I’m sure it’s very nice, Layla,” said River.
As she spoke, she noticed that Colby was clinging on her leg, his little hands holding onto her skirts as if he feared he would be drifting unmoored if he let go.
It shattered River’s heart to see him like this, but she couldn’t blame the boy—after seeing his mother murdered, any conflict was to much to bear.
But Layla seemed to notice, too, and she immediately fell to her knees next to Colby, producing a small piece of fruitcake wrapped in cloth from her pocket.
“Ye ken, wee laddie...food always makes me feel better,” she said. “And me specialty is feelin’ well all the time!”
Colby gave her a smile that was reluctant at first, but then widened when the cloth fell open to reveal the treat. He hesitated, but Layla passed it to him, and he rushed back to Arya, grinning up at her.
“Thank ye!” the two of them called, almost in unison.
“Ye’re good with bairns,” River pointed out.
“Och aye, I have so many siblings,” said Layla. “I’m also very good at many things! And ye could see that for yerself, me lady, if...if ye allowed me to be yer maid.”
River faltered for a moment. She had her own cohort of maids, of course, and even had her personal maid who arranged everything for her. Where would Layla fit into that group?
“It’s the least I can do, after ye saved me from them,” Layla added, her honey-colored eyes sparkling with gratitude.
It was strange to River; no one had ever been so admiring of her in the past. No one had looked at her like this, with so much gratefulness and none of the ambition she was used to seeing in people.
Everyone around her seemed to await her response with bated breath—even the children and Finlay, who were looking at her as if to say she knew what she had to do. In the end, River relented. After all, what was one more maid? She was the Lady of the Clan. She could have as many maids as she wished.
“Very well,” she told Layla, who almost jumped from joy. “Ye’re to become me personal maid. Finlay, please tell the housekeeper the two women are to be sent away immediately.”
“Aye, me lady,” said Finlay, and quietly slipped away from her side.
Immediately, the children were upon Layla, asking her a torrent of questions to which she responded with a torrent of answers.
She was more talkative than any maid River had encountered before—really, any human River had encountered before—but that only seemed to fuel Arya’s and Colby’s curiosity even more.
They immediately loved her.
For a moment, River watched hem with a small smile on her lips.
She couldn’t help but wonder whether she had finally made a friend in this castle, no matter how unlikely of a friend she would be.
She needed it desperately; someone to whom she could talk about things she could never mention to Finlay, someone who understood her as a woman, someone who would brighten her days a little more.
But then, despite the light that Layla seemed to exude from every inch of her, River’s mind turned to darkness once more.
Tonight is the night. And there’s nae avoidin’ it.