Chapter 4
“Me Lady?” a soft, kind voice said, gently rousing Margaret from her sleep.
Margaret made a noise of acknowledgment as she burrowed herself deeper into the cloud she was sleeping on. She’d never liked waking up early in the morning, and the sheets beneath her made it even more difficult. Her dreams always called to her, begging her to run back into their warm embrace.
“It’s time for ye to rise and break yer fast,” the voice murmured. “Yer new people will want to see ye. And yer Laird is waitin’.”
Ah, so yesterday wasn’t a dream.
Finally, Margaret opened her eyes and turned her head to the side. Standing in front of her, with her hands folded politely and a kind smile on her face, was Cali. Her new maid.
I’ve never had a maid all to myself before.
“Yer hair’s a mess,” Cali said jovially, waving for Margaret to get out of bed and join her. “Let me get ye dressed and get it fixed for ye.”
“Yes,” Margaret said, voice sleep thick. “Thank you.”
Her feet hit the cold stone floor, and she let out a strained breath through her teeth. Cali tutted sympathetically, putting a hand against Margaret’s elbow and leading her over to the fire. Here, the ground was warm beneath her toes.
“Ye daenae have another gown, do ye?” she asked, pouring something sweet-smelling into a tub of water that Margaret hadn’t noticed when she first opened her eyes.
“I do not,” Margaret admitted, turning to warm her backside. “The seamstress in the village is working on a second gown for me.”
“Ach, that’s good then,” Calie said, coming to help her undress. “Ye’ll need more, but two’s a start.”
Margaret hummed, allowing herself to be led into the warm, lavender-scented water. Cali worked carefully, her hands gentle and thorough. By the time her bath was done, Margaret was sure she could fall asleep again.
“We’ll get ye dressed then I’ll do somethin’ with yer hair,” Cali told her. “I think ye’d look bonnie with it braided.”
“I trust your judgment,” Margaret said.
She truly didn’t need any help getting into her dress. It was a simple thing, designed to be put on without another person. Yet, Margaret found she quite liked having Cali help her out.
When she was dressed, Cali set her on a puffy stool and got to work on her hair. As her deft fingers plaited Margaret’s blonde locks, Margaret asked, “Have you lived in Castle McGhee your whole life?”
“Nay,” Cali muttered. “I was what ye call a vagrant, travelin’ around, practicin’ medicine. I’ve been here for a few years now. If we’re bein’ honest, I prefer it to wanderin’ about.”
“Always having a bed does sound like a welcome change,” Margaret replied.
“Aye, and there’s the gossip,” Cali said, her eyes flashing with mischief. “Ye wouldnae believe what some of the people here get up to.”
“Perhaps you should tell me, then,” Margaret said with a grin.
And so, Cali did, launching into the intricacies of the kitchen staff’s relations with one another. As she spoke, Margaret felt as though she’d made her first real friend outside of England. She couldn’t help but think that Eva would adore Cali as much as she did.
Ryan stood outside Margaret’s door, waiting impatiently for his bride-to-be to grace him with her presence. The maid he’d assigned to her, Cali, had offered to bring her to the great hall for breakfast after getting her dressed, but Ryan wanted to escort her there himself.
There was quite a bit he didn’t know about the new Lady of Castle McGhee, and he intended to find out as much as he could. She was an interesting thing, showing up at his gates to make a deal. He admired her spunk.
I didnae ken they made them like her in the south.
He wondered if an heir borne from them would inherit her spirit. It would be better than the bairn getting his attitude. He supposed, though, that he wasn’t always like this. There was a time when he laughed and joked and didn’t take the world so seriously.
There was a time when he truly wanted a child. Now, he was focused on finding the man who killed his cousin. If it weren’t for his council, Gerald Matheson in particular, he wouldn’t be thinking about an heir. The man had been horribly insistent for the past six months.
“All right, lass,” he said after another minute passed, rapping his knuckles against her door more severely. “Ye ken ye cannae keep yer people waitin’. They’ll be wantin’ to meet their new lady.”
Cali was the first to appear, shooting him an apologetic look as she moved out of the way.
Then, Margaret stepped into the hallway.
She was freshly washed, smelling of lavender and rose water, yet she was still wearing the same gown from the previous day.
Her blonde hair was braided and pinned up, showing off the enticing curve of her neck.
Aye, she’s bonnie, but does she nae have another dress?
Ryan offered her his arm as he said, “Come now, Sassenach.”
“My name is Margaret,” she said, her dainty hand wrapping around his bicep. “Not Sassenach.”
“Ye think I daenae ken me own wife-to-be’s name?” he replied, taking great pleasure in the way she bristled under his teasing. She was so easy to rile up. “Ye’re Margaret aye, but ye’re also me Sassenach and will be Lady McGhee.”
She huffed, but he caught the way she suppressed a smile. A fun little thing, she was. It was difficult not to continue poking at her to see how far he could push her. In truth, the woman brought out a side of him that he was sure he’d long-since buried.
That might be a dangerous path to tread. I need to get control of meself.
Clearing his throat, Ryan recentered himself, reminding himself that he was the Laird now. The games he wanted to play were for a boy who didn’t have the responsibility of this land.
“Were yer bags delivered last night?”
“Yes,” Margaret said, apparently still ruffled. She sniffed in an almost-dismissive gesture. “Thank you.”
He made a sound of acknowledgment, frowning at the realization. His soon-to-be wife didn’t have clothes, or if she did, she didn’t think they were fit to wear in the castle. He’d have to take her to the seamstress to fill her closet.
As they walked, Margaret took in her surroundings. She seemed content to be in the quiet with him, and Ryan was too concerned with the problem of her clothing to break the silence. He’d have time to get his questions about her answered later.
I’ll have someone else do some investigatin’ if I must.
“Oh, heavens,” she breathed as they passed by a window that overlooked the gardens. Ryan stopped for a moment, allowing her to take in the scenery before gently tugging her along. “It’s beautiful out there.”
“Aye,” he said. “Me gardeners take great pride in our grounds.”
They reached the great hall without further incident, Cali trailing behind the two of them. As soon as they stepped through the doors, all eyes were on the two of them. Colby, Ryan’s man-at-arms, came forward to greet them, pushing past a servant who had stopped to stare.
“Me Laird,” he said, nodding at Ryan before shifting his gaze to Margaret. He did nothing to hide his interest when he asked, “And who is this wee bonnie thing?”
“I’m—” Margaret began, but Ryan cut her off, beating her to the introduction.
“She’s to be yer new lady,” he said, offering no more information as he led Margaret to the head table.
“Colby, ye…” Cali started, the rest of her statement fading into the background as Ryan led Margaret away from them.
Eyes remained on them as they walked, and curious whispers rose from the tables they passed.
Occasionally, he could pick up a word or two from an older person who was beyond the age of caring and overheard their opinions.
Ryan paid them no mind. They would have to get used to Margaret’s presence as would he.
While Margaret knew that the people in the Clan McGhee would be curious about her, she hadn’t anticipated her arrival would draw this kind of attention. The people—her people—craned their heads to watch her pass by. She tightened her hand against Ryan’s elbow, holding her chin up high as they went.
It felt as though she was being judged with every step she took. Her worth was being weighed by the way she moved through this hall. Perhaps she imagined just how far their judgment went, but they were certainly forming opinions about her just by looking at her.
I suppose that it must be strange for them. He turned down so many other ladies before I came along. Of course, they’re all dying to get a look at me.
She wondered whether she should feel some kind of pride at being the one he chose. If he’d wanted, he could have turned her away yesterday. Instead, he brought her into his castle and presented her to his congregation.
As they passed a table, Margaret overheard someone whispering, “She’s a bonnie thing.” She decided then that she was proud of being chosen. It didn’t matter that they were only together as part of a deal; he had still decided that Margaret was good enough for him.
Should I really be taking pride in getting chosen by a Highlander, though? Aren’t they all savages? Perhaps he’s turned down all the Scottish women around because he respects them more than he respects me.
As she tried to push the thought out of her head, a young girl waved at her. With a smile tugging at her lips, Margaret waved back. This seemed to be the right thing to do as a chorus of jovial laughter and murmurs rose from the table.
When they got to the head table, Margaret dropped the Laird’s arm.
Without him touching her, she felt a little exposed and out of her element.
He was right next to her, yet she felt as though she were a ship without an anchor.
The only reason she didn’t drift was because of all the eyes on her that pinned her in place.