Chapter 5
Castle McLeod was a marvel created from an artful arrangement of brick, marble, and wood, its edges licked by heather and holly. It managed to look both sturdy and majestic as its towers rose from behind the hills, a sweet sight for her sore eyes after the rough journey she had endured.
“Home!” Keira squealed beside her, her excitement palpable in the way she squirmed in her seat, almost as if she could not wait for the horses to stop so she could run inside.
“That is our castle, miss,” she said, pointing towards it. “It is very bonny, is it nae?” she asked, her little face turned up to watch her expectantly.
“Of course, it is,” Violet replied with a brilliant smile. “You live in a very beautiful castle, Keira.”
“It also has many rooms,” Keira added. “Grannie Ava would let ye choose the one ye want. I like ye, so she would like ye as well,” she declared with such confidence that Violet fought to contain her laughter.
God, I love the innocence of children.
“Nay,” Keira said after a pause. “I daenae think we should bother Grannie Ava. She complains of her knees these days.”
“Yes, I do not think it is wise to bother her. I will be grateful for any room in such a beautiful home,” Violet assured her.
“But I want ye to have a beautiful room,” Keira insisted with a pout.
“I will, you don’t need to worry.”
“Mhm,” Keira said with a thoughtful sigh. “If ye marry Da, ye will be me ma, and Ma was the lady of the castle. Ye can pick any room ye want. Ma’s room was beside Da’s, perhaps ye’d like to take that one?”
Violet studied the little girl’s face carefully for any sign of resentment or anger at the thought of her taking her mother’s title, rooms, and place in their family and clan.
In her experience, no matter how open-minded a child was, no one truly liked the idea of replacing a lost parent, and try as she might, she did not think that those were shoes she could fill that easily.
To her utmost surprise, there was nothing in the little girl’s expression that reflected anger. Her sweet visage only held gentle curiosity. Almost as if she had already accepted wholeheartedly that Violet was going to be her stepmother.
Such acceptance was almost unheard of in Violet’s experience, but it seemed this little girl staring at her so earnestly was the exception to the rule.
“I do not know,” she said finally when she found her voice. “I think it is up to your father to decide.” She broke their stare, fanning her skirts around her for want of something to do.
“Nay need, Da doesnae care for household matters. Grannie Ava says that housekeeping is best managed by the ladies of the castle, and ye’re to be the mistress soon, so ye decide. Unless ye wish to share Da’s room too.”
Violet’s head whipped around so fast to meet the earnest gaze of her newest little friend.
The idea was shocking, not because it was unheard of for couples to share a room, but because Keira suggested it was a possibility for her and Ruaridh.
While the ton believed that couples should keep separate rooms for propriety’s sake, love matches often made the exception.
Unfortunately, whatever marriage Violet was going to have with the grumpy Laird would be the farthest thing from a love match.
“Ma stayed in her room, but me friend Ailis said her da and ma shared the same room.”
“Perhaps they do not have enough room,” Violet suggested with a tight smile, wishing that would prompt the girl to change the topic.
Looking down the path, she found that while the castle was in sight, they still had to move cautiously through the village, dodging peddlers and passersby alike while trying to avoid many a puddle, so it would take quite a while before they arrived at the castle.
“Nay,” Keira replied. “Her da has a big castle. He is the Laird of Clan McGhee.”
Well, there went her ready excuse.
“Perhaps your da prefers to have the room to himself,” Violet tried.
Keira simply shrugged and busied herself by chewing on the crust of dry bread she had been clutching for quite a while. At least she had dropped the topic.
Sparing a look at the Laird, Violet saw that he was focused on the road ahead of them, his brow etched in concentration, sparing only a grunt of acknowledgement when a villager waved or cheered in greeting.
The man was an enigma. Some moments like this one, he was cold, the type of man she would believe capable of setting his wife away from his private rooms; other times, like the time when he had held her in his arms and offered to protect her, he revealed a fierce, heated part of him, a sensuality he kept closely hidden.
The question remained: Which side of him was the true part of him, and which one was the mask?
“We have arrived, Miss Violet,” his voice came, startling her out of her reverie. She had been so lost in thought that she had not realized they had arrived at the castle.
If the Laird noted her staring at him, he showed no sign of it. He only spared her a blank look.
He jumped off his horse and landed with agility, his kilt swaying around him. He reached up to lift Keira down from the horse and then turned to her. Her skin heated where his large hands curled around her waist, despite the layers between them.
He held her for a while after helping her down, ensuring that her legs did not quiver, then he let go. A strange wave of disappointment washed over her at the loss of his touch.
“Welcome to Castle McLeod,” he said in a gruff tone, before leading her and an excited Keira up the stairs.
The little girl was already skipping ahead, clearly eager to reunite with the household. She was almost close to the wide doors that sheltered the interior of the imposing castle from prying eyes when a small woman stepped out, hunched over a cane.
When she lifted her head, Violet noted she had similar eyes to the Laird, but her coloring was fairer on her weathered skin, and her hair was a gorgeous grey that was plaited in a single braid down her back. She was a gorgeous woman despite her advanced years.
She must be his grandmama.
“Grannie Ava!” Keira shrieked, barreling into the old woman’s skirt, and confirming her identity.
The woman rocked back on her heels, her face white with shock. Violet instinctively stepped forward to steady her, but the woman wrapped her arms around the little girl, finding her balance.
“Sweet Keira, me bonny lass,” she cried, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “Ye are back.”
She pulled back to look the girl up and down for any sign of injury before gathering her into her arms again.
“I am so glad that ye are back safe,” she said. “Ye must have been frightened.” She pulled back again to peer into the girl’s bright face.
“I wasnae afraid,” Keira said with a confidence Violet doubted was authentic. “I am a very strong lass.”
“Aye, but even strong lasses have moments when they are scared,” Grannie Ava said gently.
“Nae me, Grannie,” Keira replied stubbornly.
A smile spread across Grannie Ava’s face. “I am just glad to have ye back, lass. Hurry now. If ye are lucky, ye might get some of Cook’s cake.”
At that, Keira darted off eagerly, eliciting a chuckle from her.
Grannie Ava turned around slowly, raising her head to lock eyes with Violet, who stood a distance away. Her brow furrowed with confusion when she failed to recognize her.
“Who is yer friend, Ruaridh?” she asked, not looking away from Violet.
Violet offered a tight smile in the hope of easing the rising tension.
“Grannie,” the Laird said, coming to stand beside her, his spicy woody scent offering her some comfort in the face of the other woman’s wariness. “This is Violet. She is to be me bride,” he announced, his voice echoing with authority.
Grannie Ava’s eyes widened with surprise. “Ye are going to marry?” she asked.
“Aye, Grannie,” he replied steadily.
“But…?” Grannie Ava trailed off.
“I will tell ye everything later. Me betrothed is very tired from the long journey. Please show her to her room so she can rest,” he said, dismissing her concerns.
Grannie Ava gave Violet a smile, her questions obviously filed away for later.
“Of course. Daenae mind me. Come, lass,” she said, leading the way into the castle.
“I didnae ken Ruaridh was going to bring home a lass, so we have very few rooms available. I will put ye in one while the maids prepare the rooms of the lady of the castle.”
As they walked through the halls, Violet looked around, taking it all in. She did not think it possible, but it seemed the interior was even more impressive than the exterior.
For a castle that had quite many people working in and around it, it was well kept. The walls rose high, gleaming with signs of a new coating and boasting quite a number of beautiful tapestries, some depicting war and hunting scenes.
The rushes beneath her feet were fresh, set off by expensive-looking rugs placed at strategic points. Even as she looked, she could find several maids scrubbing the floor with dedication.
It was like Keira said; Grannie Ava was very efficient in managing the castle, and if everything went as planned and Violet married the Laird, she would become the lady of the castle.
How sure was she that she would be able to manage quite a large household? While her mother had trained her to be a good hostess both at home and at balls, it was never for this number of people.
Soon, they stopped before a door along one of the corridors on the lower level of the castle. It was rather sparse of decoration, but a torch hung close by, devoid of any flame, and the small slits in the wall offered some light to what would have been a dark space.
“This is it, lass,” Grannie Ava said, before turning to the Laird. “I will leave yer betrothed in yer care. I have to check what the little hellion is up to.”
With that, she turned on her heels and returned the way they had come.
Violet swallowed now that they were alone but, before she could feel any fear, the Laird opened the door to reveal what would be her room.
It was tastefully furnished in midnight blue, another favorite color of Violet’s, but she suspected that it once belonged to a man. She stepped inside and looked around.
As if he could read her thoughts, he said, “This used to be Logan’s room when he spent time in the castle.” He closed the door behind him, startling her.
“This is to be a lady’s room. You do not simply step in without permission, even if you were the owner of the castle,” she protested.
“Well, ye are me betrothed,” he drawled, walking deeper into the room. “I need to speak with ye.”
Violet stepped towards the foot of the bed and sat before patting the space beside her, motioning for him to join her. She waited till he reluctantly complied before asking, “What did you want to discuss?”
“Yer list,” he said matter-of-factly, bringing a slight blush to her cheeks. “Ye insist on completing it before marrying me.”
“Yes,” she replied softly.
“Do tell me what this list entails,” he demanded, his gaze fixed on hers with rapt attention.
“Swimming, but ye have to be a good instructor. I also wish to learn how to ride a horse and flirt and dance,” she said in a rush.
Now that she said it aloud, it sounded a tad funny.
The Laird paused for a moment as he considered it.
“It doesnae seem too difficult,” he replied at last. “I will make sure to fulfill those wishes.” With that, he stood up to leave. “I will send ye a maid by evening, Daenae worry about clothing. I shall ask her to bring ye a light blue dress for dinner.”
Then, he stepped out of the room, leaving her with a new discovery—he cared.
When they had last spoken on the road, she had thought he was annoyed with her because of the blank look he had given her, but it seemed he was listening and kept track of her preferences. He was willing to make adjustments to make things easier for her.
Her heart fluttered.
For a lady who had been starved of attention from the people around her, Violet worried that the Laird might have hit at one of her weaknesses, and it was only a matter of time before her walls crumbled to dust around him.