CHAPTER 16
Margaret awoke alone in the bed and sat up, looking for Finn.
He was gone, and she had no notion where he was.
After she refused him last night, she ought to feel relieved to avoid the awkwardness of waking together.
Instead, she felt unsettled. Of course, it was only because she was accustomed to having him nearby.
Except for the hour he went inside Huntly Castle, he had been her constant companion since the night he took her from Old Thomas’s cottage.
Judging by the sunlight shining through the narrow window, she had slept late.
She dressed quickly, wishing she had a clean gown to put on, and went to find Ella.
When no one answered her knock on Una’s door, Margaret pushed it open.
Panic welled in her throat as she took in the neatly folded blankets on the pallets and the empty room.
Why had she let Finn and his aunt persuade her to leave Ella with a stranger? She did not know these people! She ran down the stairs and entered the hall breathless. When she saw Ella at the table eating porridge, the relief that poured through her body was so intense it made her limbs feel weak.
She had not realized becoming a mother would make bouts of terror a regular part of her life. But then Ella looked up from her breakfast and broke into a smile, and Margaret knew the worry was a small price to pay for the joy her daughter brought her.
Servants had cleared away most of the dishes, and the men were gone. She suspected the four women who had remained at the table were waiting for a closer inspection of Finn’s new bride.
“Good morning,” Margaret said as she slipped into the seat beside Ella and put a protective arm around her.
Finn’s Aunt Helen and Una greeted her with warm smiles that showed they were prepared to like her. His mother and sister-in-law, however, wore hard expressions that seemed to say they had already decided Margaret would meet their worst expectations.
“What with all the…excitement of Finn bringing home a bride, I’m afraid we failed to introduce ye to his mother Isabel and his brother’s wife Curstag,” Helen said, nodding toward the two women. “Now, shall I have the cook prepare some eggs and bacon for ye?”
“No need to go to the trouble,” Margaret said, knowing the kitchen servants would be busy preparing the big noon meal. “If there’s porridge left in the pot here by Ella, that will do fine for me.”
That earned her a nod of approval from Helen, which confirmed that the question had been a test to see if Margaret was the demanding sort of guest who created extra work for the hostess and her household.
“Did ye know Finn makes a perfect porridge?” Margaret said to fill the awkward silence as she served herself from the pot.
Helen beamed at her. “I taught him.”
“You cook?” Curstag asked, wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something foul. “The only time I enter the kitchen is when I find it necessary to reprimand the cook.”
Margaret suspected that occurred all too often and felt sorry for the cook.
“’Tis a useful skill,” Helen said. “Ye never know when it may come in handy.”
“Why would you ever need it?” Isabel said. “You’re a countess with a large castle full of servants.”
Goodness. Margaret regretted mentioning Finn’s talent with porridge. She began eating the lukewarm porridge with the goal of finishing it as quickly as possible.
“Is that Finn’s bastard?” Isabel asked, looking at Ella.
Margaret nearly choked on her porridge, then she pushed the bowl aside and lifted Ella onto her lap. Thankfully, Ella did not appear to understand what Isabel said.
“Isabel, this is my house, and you’ll treat my other guests with courtesy,” Helen said, which gave Margaret the moment she needed to gather herself.
Margaret was as shocked by Isabel’s lack of subtlety as by the insult itself. At court, insults could be just as cutting, but they were nearly an art form in their sophistication.
“My daughter is not a bastard. Nor is she Finn’s child.” Margaret paused to kiss the top of Ella’s head. “As Finn told ye last night, I’m a widow.”
“Hmmph,” Isabel grunted, and fixed her steely black eyes on Margaret. “Finn is a philanderer of the worst sort. He’ll bring ye no happiness.”
“Looks like a fine day, and Ella and I could do with some fresh air,” Margaret said, and stood up with Ella on hip. “Can ye suggest a walk nearby?”
“There are paths through the wood next to the castle,” Helen said. “Just don’t go too far and get lost.”
“I’ll ask Finn to take us,” Margaret said.
“I’m afraid he can’t today,” Helen said. “The earl has him practicing with his personal guard.”
Margaret was happy to hear it. Surely this was a sign Finn’s uncle was likely to ask him to join his guard. “I won’t disturb him then.”
“I’ve told my husband how pleased I am to have Finn back with us,” Helen said with a twinkle in her eye.
While Finn’s mother may not say a word on his behalf, his aunt was on his side—and she was the earl’s countess.
“Curstag,” Helen said, “would ye be so good as to accompany Maggie and her daughter on their walk so they don’t lose their way?”
Margaret expected Curstag to make an excuse, but she readily agreed. When Margaret excused herself to fetch their cloaks, Helen and Una came upstairs with her and Ella.
“I have a few gowns packed away from when I was young and thin,” Helen said, taking her arm as they climbed the stairs. “I don’t know why I kept them for so long, as there’s not enough fabric to let them out to fit me now. Would ye like to have them?”
The back of Margaret’s eyes stung with the threat of tears at Helen’s kindness. The countess evidently had noticed Margaret came with nothing. Instead of thinking worse of her for it, Helen took pains to offer the gowns in a way that would not embarrass her.
“That is most kind of ye,” Margaret said. “I’d be grateful if ye would lend them to me until I can make my own.”
“Keep them—consider them a marriage gift,” Helen said, with a wave of her hand. “And try not to mind Isabel’s sharp tongue. There’s no bride Finn could bring home who would please her, but I can see now he made a good choice.”
“Thank you.” Margaret felt like a fraud for deceiving this sweet woman.
“I could tell from the moment ye entered the hall that the two of ye were bound by true affection, and that counts for something,” Helen said. “My son speaks very highly of ye as well, and Alex has his mother’s good judgment.”
Before going back downstairs to meet Curstag, Margaret tied the pouch of broken onyx to her belt.
Though it was foolish, Finn’s sister-in-law made her uneasy, and the onyx reminded Margaret of her mother’s strength and love.
From the way Ella clutched her old rag doll and hid behind Margaret when they met Curstag downstairs, she felt apprehensive too.
Curstag was blessedly silent as she led them out of the castle and onto a path into the wood.
The weather was still cool this far north, but the bluebells were lovely and thick beneath the trees, and the birds were chirping overhead.
As they trailed behind Curstag deeper into the wood, Margaret began to relax and enjoy herself.
But then Curstag came to an abrupt halt and spun around to face her.
“You’re one sly bitch,” Curstag said.
“What?” Margaret stared at her. Curstag might be more careful in public, but she was as rude as her mother-in-law.
“Ye may fool the countess with that feigned look of innocence.” Curstag made her eyes big and blinked several times in what Margaret assumed was meant to be a mocking imitation of herself. “But ye don’t fool me.”
“I think it’s time Ella and I returned to the castle,” Margaret said, hoping to avoid any further unpleasantness.
When she started to turn back, however, Curstag stunned her by shoving her against a tree with surprising force. Margaret was too astonished to react.
“I didn’t come out here for a damned stroll in the wood,” Curstag said, bringing her face mere inches from Margaret’s. “I came to find out how ye got Finn to agree to marry ye.”
“I haven’t forced Finn to do anything.” It never paid to rile an angry person, so Margaret kept her own voice calm. “He’s the one who insisted I come with him to the Highlands. In truth, he absolutely refused to leave me behind.”
“Are ye with child?” Curstag shot a glance down at Margaret’s belly before returning her glare to Margaret’s face. “That must be it. Finn never wanted a bairn. Never. But knowing him, he’d feel obligated if a lass got herself pregnant.”
Margaret refrained from telling Curstag that women did not get themselves with child.
“Not that ye have any right to know, but I’m not with child,” Margaret said. “So perhaps ye can take your hands off me now?”
“Then I’d wager ye lied and told him ye were,” Curstag said, nodding to herself. “Aye, that’s it.”
“Whether I’m lying or not, surely this is a matter between Finn and me,” Margaret said. “I fail to see why it would be any of your concern.”
“Finn and I have always been close,” Curstag said. “I don’t want to see him made a fool of.”
Close? Margaret felt a jab of jealousy right under her ribs. She was not Finn’s true wife, or even his lover, so she had no rights to him. No claim at all. And yet she wanted—nay, needed—to know just how close he and Curstag had been.
And were they still?
“Ye won’t keep him in your bed for long,” Curstag said. “You’re too dull for a man like Finn. He’ll be bored within a sennight, if he isn’t already.”
Curstag was right. It would take a woman with a wild, passionate nature to hold Finn, but Margaret certainly was not going to give her the satisfaction of admitting it.
“And you’ll never have Finn’s heart,” Curstag said with a smile curling her full red lips. “He gave that away a long time ago.”