Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
It had been two days since Scarlett’s clash with Robert in the gardens, and the memory still had a way of creeping back at the most inconvenient times. Every time she lifted her charcoal, she saw storm-gray eyes glaring back at her from the page, no matter what she tried to sketch.
So she kept to the garden, where the roses and herbs were quiet company, and let her drawings soothe her. It was easier than facing the rest of Gundor, faces she hadn’t yet met, but Mary would have none of it.
“This willnae do, Me Lady,” the older woman scolded gently that morning, tugging open the chamber curtains and letting light pour in. “Ye’ve been out among flowers and parchment long enough. The clan waits to meet ye proper, and they willnae be kept waiting forever.”
Scarlett had groaned into her pillow, protesting that she was perfectly content to stay hidden a little longer. But Mary was relentless, bustling about and pulling gowns from the chest until Scarlett admitted defeat.
So now, smoothed into fresh skirts with her hair neatly pinned, Scarlett let Mary guide her toward the great hall. Her pulse thrummed as they reached the heavy doors. She braced herself for silence, for suspicion, and for the cold stare of strangers who might never welcome her.
Instead, as the doors opened, a wave of sound and warmth rolled out to meet her.
A woman with russet hair and merry eyes stepped forward first, bobbing a quick curtsy. “Me Lady, welcome. We’ve heard nothing but fine things since word of yer wedding reached us.”
Scarlett blinked. “Fine things? From whom?”
The woman winked. “Och, ye’d be surprised how fast news runs through kitchens.”
Scarlett laughed, the tension in her chest easing. “Then I hope the kitchens like me, else I’ll never eat again.”
A ripple of laughter ran through the hall.
It was then another woman slid up beside her, tall and quick-smiled, her dark hair tied in a messy knot.
“Ye must be Scarlett,” she said, slipping her arm into Scarlett’s as if they’d known each other for years.
“I’m Katie, the healer here. Ye’ll hear folk call for me if they’ve a cough, a bruise, or a bairn on the way. ”
Scarlett smiled. “It’s lovely to meet ye, Katie.”
Katie leaned closer, and her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “And if ye need anything yerself, Me Lady, ye come to me. I mean anything. Even if it’s about matters of the bedroom.”
Scarlett’s eyes widened, and heat rushed into her cheeks. “Uh... aye.”
Mary, trailing just behind, caught the words and gasped. She reached out, swatting Katie’s arm with mock severity. “Shame on ye, speaking such to the Lady!”
Katie only grinned wider, rubbing the spot Mary had struck. “Och, I’m only trying to be helpful.”
Mary shook her head, exasperated but smiling. “Daenae listen to a word she says, Me Lady. Her head’s full of nonsense.”
Scarlett pressed her lips together, trying and failing to smother her laugh. “Nonsense or nae, I’ll remember where to find her.”
Katie’s grin was triumphant. “See? Already wiser than half the folk here.”
Before Scarlett could reply, a broad-shouldered man with a weathered face stepped forward. His plaid was pinned neatly, and his stride firm but welcoming. He bowed low before speaking.
“Me Lady,” he said warmly, “I’m Mack. Been with the McLarens longer than I care to count. Let me be plain, our Laird’s a lucky man.”
Scarlett’s blush deepened, but she managed to meet his kind gaze. “Thank ye, Mack. Ye make me feel most welcome.”
“Aye, and so ye should. There’s nae doubt in me mind ye’ll bring strength to Gundor.”
A murmur of agreement rose among the people, and Scarlett’s chest tightened with something she hadn’t expected... relief.
She glanced at Mary, who gave her a gentle nod of encouragement, “Told ye, they’d love ye.”
Scarlett exhaled, a laugh breaking loose. For the first time since she’d set foot in Gundor, she felt not like a stranger being measured but like a woman being welcomed into a home.
Scarlett invited Katie for tea as soon as she finished greeting the rest of the clan.
Robert was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in the hall, and the corridor was empty. He wasn't even looming at the back of the room.
She told herself she hadn't looked for him.
She focused on the tea service instead, her movements sharp and deliberate. She smoothed her skirts and sat down, refusing to glance at the door again. If he chose to be a ghost in his own castle, she wouldn't be the one to go hunting for him.
Scarlett leaned back in her chair with her fingers curled around a warm cup of tea. Katie sat across from her with one leg tucked casually beneath the other, laughing at some jest she’d just delivered.
“I tell ye, the old laird near fainted the first time I told him his back pain came from sitting too stiff and puffing himself like a rooster,” Katie said, grinning as she sipped her tea.
“Men think strength is in their chests, but it’s in their spines, aye?
And in their heads if they’d only use them. ”
Scarlett chuckled, shaking her head. “Ye’ve a way of speaking that makes me forget I’m meant to be proper.”
Katie leaned forward, and her eyes gleamed. “Proper is for kirk and funerals. The rest of life’s meant to be lived. So, what’s it like, then, being Lady of Gundor?”
Scarlett hesitated, swirling the tea in her cup. “It feels… unfinished. Like I’ve stepped into a play and daenae know me lines.”
Katie smirked. “Then make new ones. Who’s to say a lady cannae write her own part?”
Scarlett laughed softly, grateful for the woman’s ease. She had expected healers to be stern and serious. Katie was neither. She was quick, witty, and far too comfortable speaking truths most would swallow.
The chamber door burst open, and Mary hurried in, skirts rustling, cheeks flushed. “Me Lady!”
Scarlett set down her cup, startled. “What is it?”
Mary held up a sealed parchment. “A letter’s just come from Hallow.”
Scarlett was on her feet in a heartbeat, snatching the letter from Mary’s hand. Her fingers trembled as she broke the seal.
The handwriting was familiar. “Edith”.
Scarlett’s heart squeezed as her eyes drank in the words
Dearest Scarlett,
I am well. Truly, I am. Your brother has kept his word, books and silence are mine, and I find peace in them.
The halls feel emptier without you but not unfriendly.
I walk the library daily, and no one troubles me.
Laird Gallaway hardly speaks unless necessary, but he is civil, and for that I am grateful.
You need not worry about me. I know why you chose as you did, and I will never forget it.
You have given me a home when I had none and a place in your heart always. I am safe, and it is because of you.
Always yours, Edith.
Scarlett blinked at the words swimming on the page. She pressed the letter to her lips, whispering, “Thank God.”
Katie tilted her head. “Good news, then?”
Scarlett nodded, reading the lines again, slower this time, savoring each curl of Edith’s hand. Her friend was safe, happy even, surrounded by the books she loved and a kind of quiet that was rare in Hallow. Scarlett’s chest swelled with relief.
Scarlett folded the parchment. Her movements were careful and slow, her fingers gripping the paper until the edges bit into her skin. She didn't press the letter to her heart; she flattened it against her knee, smoothing the creases until her palms were warm from the friction.
Edith was safe. That was the truth she’d bought and paid for.
She just hadn’t expected safe to feel like a different world.
She stared at the small, folded square of paper, the only piece of home she had left, and realized that while Edith was free, Scarlett was the one who had been locked away behind stone and silence.
Katie leaned back, watching her closely. “This Edith, she’s dear to ye.”
“Like a sister.” Scarlett smiled faintly though tears burned her eyes.
“When me mother passed, Edith’s mother took me in as her own.
She taught me things me father and brother never could.
Softness, patience. Edith was always beside me, listening when Aaron barked at me and even holding me when I wept.
She gave me a place to be meself, not just the daughter of Gallaway.
I couldnae leave her to face the village alone.
I insisted that Aaron should take her in; that was me only condition to get married. ”
Mary softened, her hand brushing Scarlett’s arm. “Ye’ve a good heart, Me Lady. Few would make such a sacrifice.”
Scarlett closed her eyes, clutching the letter tight. “Sacrifice or nae, it was the only choice I could live with.”
Katie gave a crooked smile. “Aye, but choices always cost. Ye’ll carry this one heavy, I think.”
Scarlett’s throat tightened. She thought of her quick, quiet wedding, the vows spoken with barely a glance, Robert’s lips never touching hers. She thought of Gundor’s unfamiliar halls and the clan’s warm faces.
“I wonder,” she said softly, “what she would think if she saw me now.” Mary frowned. “She’d be proud. Daenae doubt that.”
Scarlett tried to believe it. She read the last lines again,
Always yours, Edith.
Her heart ached with the truth of it. Edith would always be hers, just as she would always belong to Edith. That bond could not be severed by distance or duty or marriage.
Scarlett slipped the letter into the drawer of her table, as though hiding it there would keep it safe from the weight of her new life. She rested her hand on it, whispering a silent prayer of thanks.
Katie reached for her cup again, breaking the heaviness with her usual ease. “Well then, if she’s safe, ye can turn yer mind to yer new place. And if ye need any advice at all—on running a hall, healing an ache, or aye, even on—”
Mary smacked her shoulder before the word could leave her lips. “Katie! Daenae start.”
Katie only laughed. “Och, the Lady’s blushed already.”