Chapter 12
Kirsten felt as though she was lighter than air.
Just as when she had been riding Skye, she felt as though she was free.
All the despair and doubts had been dispelled from her mind.
Marcas had shown her the man he truly was underneath all his hardness and bluster.
He still wasn’t perfect, but she had proven that their wedding night wasn’t a unique experience and also that there was a deep connection between them.
He said more with his actions than his words, and while he hadn’t told her he loved her, she could feel some semblance of it in his kiss.
As for her, well, love was an elusive thing.
She had never been given an exact definition of the ideal and wasn’t sure she ever would.
From what she gathered, it was different for everyone, and it was something that she would know once she experienced it for herself.
She wasn’t sure she was quite there with Marcas yet, but she felt she was on the right path and that it was only a matter of time before that all-encompassing, wonderful feeling took hold in her heart.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Roderick entered the kitchen.
He looked stately in his clean, sharp clothes and trimmed hair.
He smiled at Kirsten and walked to a cupboard in the kitchen.
He pulled out a stout bottle and poured some golden liquid into a glass.
He swirled it around before taking a sip, and then sighed with satisfaction.
“I couldnae help but notice that things seem tae be gaeing better with ye and Marcas,” Roderick said.
“Oh, aye, they’re just wonderful! And it’s all thanks tae ye, Roderick. Yer idea of making him his favorite meal really changed things. I think it showed him that spending time with me wasnae a bad fate.”
Roderick smiled. “It’s just a shame that he’s tae focused on other things that he couldnae see it from the beginning. But I’m glad that things are working out well now. I did hear that ye haed a wee bit of a wild ride out there.”
Kirsten blushed as she thought of what she had experienced with Marcas.
At first, she wondered if someone had noticed and that their intimacy had been exposed, but then Roderick made a comment about barreling into some guards, and she laughed with relief, realizing that he was talking about her ride with Skye.
“I told Marcas that I hae never learned how tae ride a horse before, and he duly obliged me. He is a good teacher.”
“Aye, he was always good with a horse. He was a natural when he was younger. When he first got on that wee horse of his, ye would hae thought he’d hae been riding all his life.
” A soft smile appeared on his face. “When I think of him like that, it’s hard tae think of the man he grew intae.
I cannae help but think what might have been different if his parents haed nae died. ”
“I suppose we’ll never know.” Kirsten felt sadness as she was once again reminded of the sorrow that had plagued Marcas’s life.
She found herself wishing that she could have known the boy Marcas used to be.
Perhaps if they had been betrothed soon and knew each other from childhood, as Islay had with her betrothed, she might have been able to have a positive effect on him.
Everything she heard from Moira and Roderick suggested that he had been a sweet boy, but the tragedy had twisted him into this bitter, angry man who could so easily let his temper get the better of him.
Well, Kirsten could soothe the anguish in his soul.
She had already begun, and now she just needed to continue... but what could she do next?
“I would still welcome and appreciate any other advice ye hae tae give tae help me crack Marcas’s hard exterior,” she added.
“And I will be happy tae offer ye any advice I might have, as soon as it comes to my mind.” He tilted his head forward slightly, as though he was bowing to her.
He took another sip of his whiskey and pressed his lips together, enjoying the lingering taste.
It was the same thing that Kirsten did after she kissed Marcas, although she doubted that the drink could give Roderick as much pleasure as Marcas gave her.
“Actually, now that ye mention it,” Roderick continued, “there is something that springs tae mind. Over yonder, on the far side of the cattle field behind some hay bales, there are lavender plants. The anniversary of his mother’s death is soon, and her favorite tea was lavender.
It might be a good idea tae make some for Marcas tae commemorate the occasion and remember her. ”
Kirsten’s eyes lit up, although her expression was marred with sorrow as she remembered the tragedy of his mother’s death, of how in her grief-stricken mind she had mistaken poison for lavender and died because of it.
She hoped that it would remind Marcas of good times spent with his mother rather than the cause of her death.
“That’s a wonderful idea. Thank ye sae much,” she said effusively.
“There’s no need tae thank me, Kirsten. I’m just trying tae dae my best tae make my nephew happy.
” He smiled widely at her. Kirsten returned the gesture, but even though he was modest, she still felt that he deserved more thanks.
After all, without him, she never would have thought to cook him chanterelle mushrooms. Roderick had come to battle to save the clan once, and now he was saving his nephew again.
As she went to leave the kitchen, she paused before she passed him, and then embraced him in a hug. Roderick was taken by surprise, and his eyes widened, but he held her tightly for a brief moment, and then she left the kitchen, her mind filled with ideas for how she might make Marcas happy.
She busied herself for the rest of the day by writing a letter home, informing them of her initial foray into marriage as well as her feelings.
She was sure it would reassure her family to know that she was adjusted to life in the Monroe clan and that Marcas was treating her well.
She made sure to write about how he had taught her to ride a horse, and she laughed as she pictured the disapproving looks on the faces of her parents.
After writing them, she then moved on to writing to Islay.
It had been too long since she had seen her best friend, and although her life was busy, she wished that she could see Islay again.
There was a flicker of doubt in her mind, though, as she wondered how Islay would get along with Marcas.
Both of them were stubborn, and Islay didn’t usually take kindly to men who were brash and brutish; there was little that could make her hold her tongue.
Perhaps it was for the best that she didn’t see Marcas until Kirsten had made a true husband out of him.
In her letter to Islay, she penned far more personal details, describing to Islay the way Marcas made her feel and the sensations that were secret and only shared between the closest of friends.
She also confided to Islay her doubts and her hopes, feeling better after writing it for being able to reflect on her feelings and put things in a different perspective.
By the time she had finished, it was later than she thought.
She glanced out of the window to the moonlit night and turned her gaze to the moors.
They were dark and distant, and she couldn’t see anything but an abyss.
Marcas was out there, and she wondered what he was thinking about.
Did he think only of war and ways to protect the clan?
Were his thoughts continually swirling in a storm of despair, or was there actually space in his thoughts for her?
Was he thinking about how majestic she looked sitting on Skye, and how good she made him feel?
Was he starting to feel hopeful about the future?
She chose to believe that he was thinking about happy things.
By the time Marcas returned to their chamber, Kirsten was nearly asleep.
She felt his presence enter the bed and the comfortable weight that settled beside her.
His warmth seeped into the bed, and she smiled at his return.
Her thoughts turned to the next day and the day after that, to all the days that awaited them in the future.
She thought back to what Moira had said, about how sometimes she thought back to her ancestors and wondered how they felt and what they would think of the way the clan had developed.
Before Kirsten slept, her thoughts turned to her descendants, and she wondered what they would think of her and Marcas. Would they learn of the despair that plagued his heart and what a struggle it was for her to remind him of the good things in life?
There was still much of her life yet to live and a story to be written, but the thought that someone in the future might think fondly of them gave her comfort, and she slept soundly.