Chapter 24
Aspider had begun to spin a web across her ceiling. Hannah watched its efforts with mild curiosity.
Wasn’t there some old tale about a man watching a spider swing across the pitched roof of his tent? She couldn’t recall. Couldn’t recall much of anything.
She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable spot. Apparently, no such comfortable spot existed. Her straw mattress creaked, and the old ropes of her bed threatened to snap apart at any moment, dumping her on the floor.
On the dusty, unswept floor that she had not swept for the better part of a week.
In fact, Hannah had done no chores whatsoever after she had returned from MacBain Castle. Sure enough, shortly after she’d left, a procession was seen tramping away from the castle, taking Aiden with them. He was going back to his beloved Calder Castle, just like he’d said he would.
Nay doubt he’s happy now.
As promised, Lucas had seen her home. She remembered little of the journey. They’d ridden in silence, despite his attempts to make conversation. When he’d finally deposited her at her doorway, he’d paused, glancing down at her with obvious worry.
“Are ye well, lass?” he’d asked, somewhat warily.
Hannah could still recall how she’d flashed a bright, insincere smile up at him. “Well? Never better,” she’d responded lightly. “I feel wonderful.”
He’d flinched, as if she’d hurled an insult at him or maybe a handful of wet sod. He’d made no reply for a minute or two, only staring down at her, worrying his lower lip. At last, he’d sighed, shaking his head.
“Ye shouldnae have left him,” he’d muttered, quietly enough that she’d thought he might have been talking to himself.
“I didnae leave him,” she’d shot back. “He sent me away. I had nay choice.”
“A woman like ye always has a choice, Hannah.”
While she had still been pondering the meaning of that, Lucas had turned away, urging his horse into a canter, and left her behind. She’d stared after him for a moment before turning to the cottage.
Violet needs me.
And yet, Violet didn’t seem to need her quite as much as she had anticipated. Meals had been cooked without her input, and the distillery still seemed to be working fine. The quality of the housework had taken a dip, that was true, but a little dust never killed anyone.
Above her, the spider had the rough bones of its web completed. It paused for a moment, knitting its legs together, as if taking a break before preparing the next stage of its building work.
Hurry up, little spider. Violet will come along soon when she notices all the cobwebs and dust. She’ll use a duster to knock down yer precious house and sweep ye away if ye arenae careful. So, spin quickly, catch a few flies, and make yer escape while ye can, eh?
As if hearing her, the spider began to spin again.
A creak in the doorway caught her attention. She glanced up to find Violet standing there, eyeing her worriedly. She wore a well-worn cloak, ragged and patched in places, and carried a basket slung over the crook of one arm.
“Were ye just talking to that spider?” she queried.
Had I spoken aloud? Oops.
“Nay,” Hannah responded defensively.
Violet’s eyebrows rose. “Hmph. Well, ye daenae look good. Ye are pale, and I ken ye arenae sleeping well. I hear ye tossing and turning. What is it? Are ye cold?”
She glanced questioningly at the fire, but Hannah shook her head.
“I have slept too often on featherbeds, Violet. I am struggling to sleep on straw now. It’s me own fault.”
“It is nae yer fault,” Violet countered.
Abruptly, she set down the basket and turned to the fire. Almost aggressively, she began piling up firewood and kindling. Within a few short moments, a small flame had begun to take root, climbing over the pyre.
Hannah watched in amusement. “Do ye think that me problems will be solved by a good wee blaze, Violet?”
“Nay,” Violet responded briskly. “But I think ye will be less miserable crying while ye are warm instead of crying while ye are cold.”
Hannah’s face heated. “I havenae been crying.”
She had, of course. A few stray tears had found their way onto her pillow night after night. She had been careful, though, hadn’t she? No sobbing, no bawling, nothing that would attract attention. Had Violet noticed anyway?
She narrowed her eyes at her sister’s back. “Ye have recovered well.”
“Aye, thanks to ye, Hannah. I willnae watch ye slip away for want of care, nae after what ye did for me.” Rising to her feet, Violet wiped her palms on her apron and watched, pleased, as the flames roared higher.
At last, she turned to Hannah, lifting her eyebrows.
“Here’s an idea. Why daenae ye come with me to the market? ”
“Nay,” Hannah answered at once. “Absolutely nae.”
“Daenae be so sharp about it.”
“I am nae sharp.”
“Ye are. And it would be good for ye. Ye could get some fresh air, see people…”
“See people?” Hannah scoffed. “Nae bloody likely.”
Violet huffed, folding her arms. “I daenae care for that language.”
“Nay, of course ye daenae.”
“Please, Hannah.”
Hannah was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. Violet smiled hopefully at her.
I could do it. I could get up, splash some water on me face, maybe change me petticoat.
I could jam a bonnet on me head and go out in the wind.
Fresh air would do me good. The last time I got fresh air was when I went out to get the eggs two days ago.
Incidentally, that was the last time I did a chore in the house.
Of course, she knew that this lethargy couldn’t go on. She couldn’t spend her life staring at the ceiling and circling a whirlpool of misery. Lying in bed wouldn’t do anything. It would change one thing about her circumstances, except to make her more miserable and Violet’s life more difficult.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on not letting any tears fall. If she let herself fall apart in front of Violet, her sister would start crying too. She’d panic, desperate to soothe her, to make things right.
And, of course, there was no making things right. Of course there wasn’t. And there was no need, no need at all, for Violet to suffer.
That was what big sisters did. They took the weight off their younger sisters’ shoulders.
That was what Hannah would do.
Opening her eyes, she met Violet’s gaze and gave a tight smile. “I’m fine, Violet. Truly, I am.”
Violet bit the inside of me cheek. “Daenae ye want to see people at the market? Duncan will be there.”
Hannah sighed, imagining it. She imagined the stares, the muffled whispers, even Duncan’s sympathetic smiles.
Nay, thank ye.
“I’ll stay here and rest,” she answered firmly. “I might… might sweep the floor before ye come back.”
Violet’s eyes dropped to the dirty, gritty floor. She said nothing, even though both of them must have known that the floor would not be swept by the time she returned.
“Very well,” she relented, sounding more than a little disappointed. “We’ll have supper when I get back, then, eh? I’ll be gone for hours. Ye ken how long market day takes.”
Hannah forced her lips into the curve of a smile. It made her cheeks ache, and probably looked strange on her face, but the smile was a semblance of normality. She had no intention of letting it go just yet.
Keep smiling, and everything will be fine.
Violet licked her lips nervously and took a step forward. “I can stay with ye, if ye want. If ye daenae want to be alone.”
“Nay, Violet. We need food. We need things from the market. Besides, I ken that ye daenae care to be cooped up. Ye had enough of that when ye were sick. Go out, I’ll be fine.”
Violet sighed, passing the back of her hand over her forehead. “Ye cared for him, did ye nae?”
Hannah flinched. “What’s that got to do with it?”
Violet gave a wry, tired smile. “It has everything to do with it.”
Tightening her jaw, Hannah rolled over, putting her face to the wall. “Oh, go on out if ye are going,” she muttered bad-temperedly. “I want to sleep.”
“Daenae ye think ye have done enough sleeping?”
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut.
“Aye,” she whispered, without turning around.
“I have. When… When ye get back, Violet, I’m going to get up.
I really am going to sweep this floor. I’m going to be meself again.
I’m going to put Laird MacBain and everything that happened behind me.
I’ll be a sister and a hard-working lass again.
Things will be fine, and I’ll be just like before. I promise ye that now.”
Violet let out a ragged gasp of delight. “Oh, Hannah, that’s wonderful news! Oh, I’m so happy. I’m so happy.”
She darted forward, pressing a damp kiss against Hannah’s temple. Hannah managed a weak smile that Violet did not seem to notice.
“I’m going to pick wildflowers on me way home from the market,” she called. “Nice colorful ones, with a nice scent. We’ll put them in a vase on the kitchen table, eh? They will cheer ye up, I just ken it!”
“Thank ye,” Hannah murmured soberly. She didn’t believe it. But Violet did, and really, that seemed like the most important thing.
Beaming, Violet scampered away.
Hannah sighed, closing her eyes. “Daenae forget yer key. I mean it, Violet. If I nod off again, I daenae want to be woken.”
Life resumes as normal when ye return, she reminded herself. I cannae bury me head under the pillow and forget him forever, can I?
Violet didn’t respond, and Hannah propped herself up on her elbow, squinting. “Violet, I mean it! Take yer key!”
The door slammed shut in response. She could almost imagine Violet bouncing happily down the path, humming to herself.
Silence crowded into the cottage, still and intense.
It was the worst part, really. Violet was out of the cottage. While she was at home, she’d hum and whistle and sing, even talking to herself occasionally when not much conversation could be coaxed out of Hannah. All that chat made it difficult to bear the silence once she was gone.
There’d been a few visitors since Hannah returned home. Duncan came, of course. They all smiled sympathetically and congratulated her on returning home. Aiden was tactfully not mentioned.
I wish they’d mention him. I’m nae a wee bairn.
Well then, chirped up a voice at the back of her head. If ye arenae a bairn, daenae act like one, eh?
She was acting like a child. There was no getting around that. But life went on, and there was nothing to be gained by—
Thump-thump-thump.
A quick, impatient knock sounded at the door.
Scowling, Hannah pushed herself up on her elbows.
“I told ye to bring yer key, Violet,” she muttered. “But did ye listen to me? Nay, of course nae.”
The knock came again, more urgently this time.
With a sigh, she scrambled to her feet and padded down the hall toward the door.
“What did ye forget this time?” she sighed, unlocking the door and wrenching it open. “I told ye to—”
The words died in her throat.
It wasn’t Violet on the doorstep. Now, it seemed ridiculous to imagine that it might have been Violet.
Aiden stood there, watching her intently. The wind ruffled his plaid around him, mussing his hair, but aside from that, he was motionless.
“Good day to ye, lass,” he murmured, eyes watchful.
Her hands flew to her hair, sure that it was sticking up in the back where she’d been sleeping on her side. Oh, and it was. She bit back a groan.
“What are ye doing here?” she stammered. “I…”
“I came to see ye, of course,” he replied smoothly, lifting his chin. “Going to invite me in?”
She paused. She could say no, of course. She could say that she was busy, or that she was just going out, or simply that she didn’t want to see him.
What would he do, then? Would he insist? Would he slink off?
No, he wouldn’t slink off. Aiden wasn’t the sort of man who slunk anywhere, not under any circumstances.
Would he leave, perhaps? Leave and not come back?
Perhaps that would be better.
“Come in,” she heard herself saying instead.
She stepped back from the door, and he stepped past her, bringing his usual scent of woodsmoke and mint. She bit the inside of her cheek, pushing the door closed behind him.
“Where is yer sister?” he enquired, peering into the kitchen.
“Out. It’s market day.”
“Ah. And ye didnae go with her? Shame.”
I’ve gone nowhere in the last week, me Laird. I’ve lain in bed and wished I were anywhere else. Wished I was with ye. Pathetic, eh?
She clenched her jaw and lifted her chin. “What do ye want, Aiden? Ye made it clear last time. We have had our fun, and now ye wish to part ways. So, let’s part ways.”
He turned slowly, gaze boring into her.
“Had our fun?” he repeated, slowly and carefully. “Is that what ye thought it was?”
A blush crawled across her cheeks, hot and insistent.
“That’s what ye thought it was.”
He gave a thoughtful nod, a gesture that seemed to neither agree nor disagree with what she’d said.
“I’m here because ye owe me something,” he said brusquely, turning away. His plaid was affixed around his shoulders with a heavy iron brooch. He fiddled with it, unclasping it and tossing the plaid carelessly over the back of a chair.
“Owe ye?” she spluttered, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. “Ye have a cheek.”
“Oh, aye,” he responded, throwing her an easy smile. “We had a bargain, remember? And ye have only delivered four bottles of whiskey. Ye owe me one more. Five was what we agreed upon, and five it’ll be.”
Hannah glanced around the kitchen. A pie was cooling on the counter.
Apple, by the smell of it. She let herself imagine picking it up and hurling it at his smirking face.
Oh, it would be satisfying. The crunch of the crust, the horror on his face, the slow drip of thick, apple-y filling slipping down his face.
Yes, it would be wonderful.
But there’d also be consequences, the least of which would be Violet’s disappointment upon learning that her beloved pie was gracing the face of Laird MacBain and could no longer be eaten.
“I daenae make that blend anymore,” Hannah managed, hoping that she sounded cold and unafraid.
She almost certainly did not.
“And why nae?” he murmured, taking a step toward her. She stepped back, bumping her back against the counter.
“None of yer business,” she snapped, and moved forward to push past him. “One of us should leave. If it willnae be ye, then I will—”
His arm shot out, curling around the front of her waist. She froze. His chest brushed against her shoulder when he breathed.
“Stay, Hannah,” he whispered, voice suddenly soft. “Please. Stay.”