Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Edith sighed, tossing and turning in her large, feathered bed for the umpteenth time.
It was nothing short of ironic.
For the first time in her life, she had a bedchamber larger than any she’d ever imagined or wished for. And yet it felt as though she was lying in a shoebox, trapped there against her will.
It was nearly dawn. The sound of the midnight guards patrolling the castle had long since faded, and those after it, too.
She groaned, pushing off the soft fur blanket that now felt heavy atop her body. She had not slept all night. Her head ached slightly as she slid out of bed, her bare feet meeting the surprisingly cold stone floor.
The fire in the grate had yet to burn out, and the chamber was warm. Yet the air felt thick in her lungs, heavy with the weight of her arrangement with Aaron and everything else that might come with it.
What have I gotten meself into?
She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, padding across the room toward the window. The cold Highland breeze blew against her face as she pushed open the wooden shutters, and she inhaled, allowing the fresh air to fill her lungs.
She immediately felt better.
The chill eased the pressure behind her eyes, and for a brief moment, her headache ebbed.
She stayed there for a moment, her fingers resting against the frame as she enjoyed the early morning air against her skin.
Perhaps the cold is what I need to numb me mind.
The idea felt great. Her hazy mind latched onto it at once, and she headed straight to the door, pulling it slightly open to peek outside.
Och.
Her eyes caught a flicker of light down the corridor, and she immediately stepped back, shutting the door a touch too loudly.
Damn me.
How could she have forgotten that her new chamber was right across from Aaron’s?
She pressed her ear against the wooden door and listened for movement from the other side.
Nothing. Surely, he is asleep.
Her pulse slowed after a moment, and she pulled the door open again, grateful for the silent hinges.
She left it slightly ajar, allowing the cold air from the corridor to slip into her chamber, and somehow, the room no longer felt like a trap. She tiptoed back to the bed and crawled under the blankets, determined to get some sleep.
Her eyes closed slowly as the soft light from the corridor spilled into the room. Her breathing evened out, and her body grew heavy as she drifted off.
Suddenly, a slight noise cut through the air, jolting her awake.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she mumbled, a dull ache spreading across her forehead.
She sat up in bed, her heart thumping when she spotted the large figure in the doorway.
“Who is it?” Her voice was hoarse.
The figure shifted slightly in the doorway.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to identify the figure, panic rising in her chest.
“Show yerself,” she ordered, once she was sure that it was a man and not a ghost.
The man was large. Nearly as tall as the doorframe, with broad shoulders that hardly fit in the doorway. His arms were folded in front of him, though his back was to the light, and she could hardly see his face.
Perhaps I shouldnae have left me door open.
Her head ached more as she strained to make out more of his features.
Perhaps I should scream. Would Aaron hear me?
“’Tis me,” the man said, and she immediately recognized his voice.
Her cheeks flushed at once. She pulled the blanket higher over herself, her heart pounding faster at the realization that Aaron might have just seen her in her undergarments.
“What are ye doing in me chamber?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Aaron had not crossed the threshold. Not even by a step.
“I saw yer door open and heard noise,” he said, pausing for a moment to look around. “Ye lack nothing?”
Edith exhaled loudly. Her pulse slowed, and the fear that had initially filled her chest faded into irritation.
“I lack me freedom, but what can ye do?”
“And here I was worried ye were ill,” Aaron scoffed, taking one step forward.
His face caught the light from the corridor behind him, his jaw sharp enough to cut.
“But nay,” he continued, shaking his head slightly. “Here ye are, the Edith I ken. Fighting me back at every turn.”
Edith rolled her eyes.
Ye daenae ken me.
He had startled her by standing at her open door. She was not about to let him off easy simply because he was trying to do a good deed.
“Only when ye deserve it,” she replied coolly, resting her aching head against the headboard.
Aaron made a sound, almost like a huff. He stepped further into her chamber, closing the door behind him.
The room suddenly felt crowded. Heat rose in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the crackling fire.
“And why do I deserve it now?” His annoyance bled into his voice.
Edith looked around, suddenly feeling trapped in the chamber with him. She swallowed. If she were not in her undergarments, she would have stood up to face him. But she was, and she could not risk maddening him in her current state.
Perhaps I shouldnae have said that.
She lifted a hand, brushing her hair from her face. “Well…” Her tone was soft and reluctant. “I did what ye asked of me, me Laird. Ye promised I could receive a lesson from Martin afterward.”
Aaron’s brows drew together slightly. “We have only had supper.”
Edith blinked. “Aye.”
“Might I remind ye that supper isnae exactly part of our deal,” Aaron said quietly. “Ye are to have supper with me every evening without fail, but ye’ll only receive a lesson from Martin after every outing.”
Edith blinked again. There was so much she had not fully paid attention to during their meeting in his study. First, their sleeping arrangement, and now the condition to have her lessons.
She sighed.
There is no point in fighting.
“When shall we go?” she asked. “On our first outing.”
Aaron leaned against the wall, his muscles bulging as he crossed his arms even in the dim light.
“In a few days,” he replied. “Likely on the morrow.”
Edith perked up. The thought of having her first proper lesson so soon made her smile, strangely easing the tension in her forehead.
“I shall have me first lesson then,” she said.
Aaron nodded. “Aye,” he said, reaching for the door. “If ye honor our agreement.”
He shut the door behind him before she could respond, and she rolled her eyes.
Surely, he had emphasized those last words just to ensure her obedience. He was infuriatingly arrogant, but thinking about it would only make her head hurt.
She lay back in bed, pushing him out of her mind and focusing on her first lesson on herbs instead.
It was a miracle that Edith had managed to sleep at all.
But it also meant that she woke up long after breakfast, which was several hours later than she’d ever woken in her life.
“Good heavens,” she muttered as she opened her eyes to the bright sunlight streaming in through her open window.
Her hand instinctively went to her eyes, blocking out the harsh light as she got out of bed. She sighed, grateful to finally be rid of the headache that had plagued her all night.
She quickly picked out something to wear from the wardrobe, barely paying any mind to the way she looked before slipping out of the chamber.
The castle felt quieter than usual.
At first, Edith thought she was imagining it. But the longer she walked through the halls, the more obvious the reason became.
Servants moved out of the way as she walked past, bending their heads slightly. Some of the maids who used to laugh with her suddenly avoided her eyes, and a younger maid even curtsied so quickly upon seeing her that she nearly dropped the basket in her hands.
Edith barely knew how to respond or act.
A day ago, she would have been helping carry some of those baskets through the halls. But now, all of a sudden, the entire castle regarded her as though she had transformed into a new person overnight.
“Me Lady,” an older guard greeted as he passed her near the stairwell.
She hardly acknowledged him, thinking he was speaking to someone else. But once she realized her mistake, she resisted the urge to glance back.
The strange treatment followed her everywhere she went. When she stepped into the kitchens, hoping to steal a piece of leftover oat bread, three maids rushed to prepare a tray before she could so much as speak. Another offered a brew of her favorite herbs.
It unsettled her so much that they would not even let her pull out a chair that she rushed through the agonizing breakfast and found her way back upstairs once she was done.
Perhaps Aaron enjoyed this sort of attention and had commanded it for her. Life beside Scarlett had not nearly been as excruciating as this, or perhaps she had not noticed because she had simply been very close to her friend.
But now, after just one morning, she knew that this was not what she wanted. Not ever.
She exhaled softly as she turned down the quieter east wing, grateful for once that it was mostly empty.
For the first time that morning, relief washed over her as she walked into the library where she and Scarlett used to spend time together.