Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“Lilly!” Her laughter filled her bedchamber as her maid held up her chestnut-brown hair. “I cannot possibly wear my hair like that.”
Lilly laughed softly, letting her hair fall down her back. She ran her fingers through it, gently separating the curls.
“I was only trying something new,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she untangled the ends with a long wooden comb. “It looked better in my head.”
Marian glanced at her through the mirror, her eyebrows arching with curiosity. “And since when have you taken to experimenting with my hair?” she asked.
Lilly grinned, placing the comb gently on the small vanity. “I thought I might try something I saw the clanswomen do,” she admitted. “Though I cannot say I’ve got it quite right.”
Marian turned to face her. “A Highland hairstyle?” Her eyes lit up. “Well then, I suppose I must let you try it.”
Lilly nodded, parting her hair gently down the middle. Her fingers worked slowly, taking smaller sections of hair as she braided down each side.
“You must tell me if I pull too tight, my Lady,” she said.
Marian watched her in amusement through the small mirror. “It feels just fine.”
The style was starting to take shape—two plaits down her back, with dainty curls falling around her face.
“My Lady,” Lilly started as she brushed a curl from her face. “Did you truly go out of the castle this morning?”
Marian’s lips curled up. She sat upright as Lilly pinned up the plaits, moving them around to make sure they sat right at the back of her hair.
“Yes, but only to the courtyard,” she replied. “It was lovely.”
Lilly smiled back at her through the mirror as she adjusted some of the strands at the front.
“You should explore the estate today,” Marian added, once she caught a hint of longing in her maid’s eyes. “It is a fine afternoon.”
The poor girl truly enjoyed the outdoors, but since their arrival, she hadn’t stepped out of the castle.
Lilly’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “And what about you, my Lady?”
Marian stood up.
Lilly held the mirror in her hands, and Marian moved closer to see her hair more clearly.
The style was simple and effective. Save for the few curls Lilly had intentionally left out, it held most of her hair out of her face and accentuated her features.
She smiled, satisfied with how it turned out.
“It is indeed beautiful, Lilly,” she praised, twirling a curl around her finger.
“No, my Lady. You are too modest,” Lilly said, placing the mirror back in its original position. “It is your face that makes it so.”
“Ah.” Marian waved her hand. “Go, Lilly, you can have the entire afternoon to yourself.”
“Thank you, my Lady.” Lilly fixed her own hair before skipping toward the door.
Marian smiled at the sight. “Do not lose your way!”
“I won’t, my Lady. I shall return before you miss me!”
Marian walked down the stairwell, her nose catching the faint scent of a sweet treat as it slowly filled the castle.
Her legs had finally gotten used to the steep and slippery steps. Still, she held out a hand, tracing the walls with her fingertips out of habit.
Her brow furrowed slightly as she stepped into the Great Hall.
Where has everyone gone?
She looked around for a moment, then she followed the sweet aroma, walking down one of the many corridors until she found herself at the kitchen door.
The warmth hit her at once.
The kitchen was large and busy, with maids moving about nonstop. Some of them carried bowls and trays from one end of the room to another, while the others worked at the table and stoves.
What are they preparing?
She wandered into the kitchen, looking everywhere but straight ahead. Soon, she bumped into something. Or rather, someone.
“Excuse me,” she gasped, staggering backward at the force of the collision.
Her face fell when she looked up and spotted the elderly woman she’d just bumped into. She straightened at once.
The woman was tall and large, with a deep furrow between her eyebrows and a frown that looked permanently stamped on her face. Her sharp gaze swept over Marian once, her expression unreadable.
Marian smiled politely, an apology already forming on her tongue. But the woman spoke before she could.
“It seems ye’re lost, lass,” she said, her tone flat and unimpressed.
Marian’s smile faltered.
“Me Lady!” a more familiar voice sounded from behind her, and she turned around to see a concerned Mrs. Campbell. “Here ye are, I’ve been lookin’ for ye everywhere!”
Marian managed a small smile. “Mrs. Campbell.” She walked out of the kitchen, meeting her at the entrance. “It is good to see you. Did you need me?”
“Aye.” Mrs. Campbell nodded. “I have been instructed to prepare tea.”
Marian’s eyebrow arched. “Tea? For whom?” she asked, even though she’d already guessed the answer.
“There is only one English lady within these walls, me Lady,” Mrs. Campbell said, before turning around and walking away. “Come. I have prepared the drawin’ room.”
Marian followed her quietly to the drawing room.
She hadn’t expected the Laird to grant her requests so easily. First, she had a hearty breakfast, and now she was going to have tea.
Perhaps he is kinder than I imagined.
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she sat, watching steam rise as the housekeeper poured the tea into a porcelain cup.
“The bannocks are almost ready,” Mrs. Campbell said, setting the kettle down gently. “Scottish oatcakes. Heartier than yer English tea biscuits, and far more fillin’. Mrs. MacBride has prepared an assortment for ye to try, and she’ll have the maids bring them over at once.”
“Mrs. MacBride?” Marian’s eyebrows rose slightly. She remembered the name from her brief conversation with the Laird outside the castle. “Is she the cook in charge of the kitchen?”
“Aye.” Mrs. Campbell nodded slightly. “Ye were talkin’ earlier. Complimentin’ her cooking, I suppose?”
Marian smiled to herself.
Indeed.
Mrs. MacBride had prepared a truly remarkable breakfast that morning, and Marian had sent a maid to request her presence at the table to offer a compliment in person, but she never came.
Now I know why.
“Well then,” Mrs. Campbell said after a minute of silence. “I should leave ye to enjoy yer tea.”
“No—” Marian’s voice came out sharper than intended. She paused, softening her tone. “Pardon me… I’d like you to stay. Join me.” She hesitated again, watching the housekeeper’s face before adding, “Please. It is quite saddening to have tea alone.”
Mrs. Campbell’s lips curled into a smile. “Very well, me Lady,” she agreed, picking up a cup for herself. “But ye daenae strike me as the type to sit sad.”
Marian smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes.
She watched as the housekeeper poured herself some tea, the quiet clink of porcelain filling the room as steam curled between them once more. Her mind drifted, and Glen Carrick faded, only to be replaced by the drawing room back in London.
Her father used to love tea as much as she did. He often used the free time between his duties as a lord to sit with her, and it never seemed to bother him that it was considered a ladies’ activity.
After his passing, Marian had not dared to have tea alone for fear of missing him. She was not about to start now.
“You should learn to be stronger,” she imagined her mother’s voice in her head. “You are soft-hearted, just like your father. And that is of no use to this family.”
Mrs. Campbell dropped her cup with a small clatter, snapping her back to the present.
“Are you all right, me Lady?” she asked, her eyes filled with concern as she noticed Marian’s trembling hands.
Marian sighed, setting down her cup beside the plate of carefully arranged bannocks that must have been brought in while she was lost in thought.
Her fingers curled into the edge of her sleeve, and she hesitated before reaching in to pull out a folded letter, the parchment creased from frequent handling. She looked at it, saying nothing for a moment.
Mrs. Campbell stared at her in silence until, finally, she unfolded the paper with deliberate slowness.
“This…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “This was meant to be my freedom.” She raised her chin, a wry smile forming on her lips. “It is a deed. An inheritance.”
She scoffed lightly at the last word.
“I traveled north because of it. Three weeks in the rain. Just to find a place that I could finally call home.”
Her fingers tightened around the edges of the letter, trembling more than they had earlier.
“It should mean something…” She looked at Mrs. Campbell as though she expected an answer. “Should it not?”
Mrs. Campbell said nothing. She only watched her with an unreadable expression. Marian dropped her gaze, folding the letter and tucking it back into her sleeve.
“You must pardon me,” she said quietly, her heart sinking when the housekeeper’s chair scraped across the stone floor.
She had barely had time to look up again before Mrs. Campbell reached across the table and pulled her into a firm embrace.
Marian froze. She had not expected the hug.
Her shoulders tensed in shock, but Mrs. Campbell’s warmth spread through her just as quickly as the hug had come on, and she relaxed, leaning into it more until she felt better.
Soon, the matter of her inheritance faded from her mind, and her stomach growled.
She swallowed. Her gaze slowly shifted to the plate of bannocks that had filled the room with their delicious aroma, and she immediately noticed a difference.
What has happened?
Her eyebrows knitted together as she pulled back from the hug, trying to figure out what had happened.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Campbell,” she spoke up, her voice returning to its usual politeness, though it was laced with curiosity. “Did you take one… or two?”
Mrs. Campbell looked down at the table, her eyebrows flying up in surprise. “Nay, me Lady. The plate was neatly arranged, and now…”
“It is nearly empty,” Marian finished for her.
“I shall send for more,” Mrs. Campbell said, before quickly stepping out to find a maid.
Marian examined the plate again, certain it hadn’t been like that before.
I’m sure it’s different.
She reached for another bannock and set it carefully on the edge of the table before tasting one herself. Her eyes closed as it melted on her tongue, warm and soft with a light, buttery richness and a faint crispness at the edges.
Mrs. MacBride is certainly the best at what she does. But that temper…
Mrs. Campbell returned with a fresh batch, and they savored them together. She shared some Highland gossip, and they laughed, bonding over what was left of the tea.
Moments later, Lilly returned with a young captain at her back and a wide smile on her face.
Marian recognized the captain as the Laird’s closest man.
“My Lady!” Lilly beamed, rushing toward her in excitement. “The estate is…”
Just then, Marian saw something out of the corner of her eye that made her freeze. She recovered and turned quickly toward the corner of the table where she had placed the bannock, but it had already vanished.
“Lilly,” her voice dropped to a whisper.
Lilly turned to her immediately. “Yes, my Lady?”
Marian heard a faint creak and slowly pointed in its direction. Something small and gray darted across the room in a flash, and she gasped.
“Did you see that?”
Lilly grabbed the back of a chair, holding it as if to shield herself from the ghost. “I did, my Lady,” she squeaked.
The young captain stepped forward, as if to rescue her.
“The castle is haunted,” Mrs. Campbell whispered with conviction.
Marian shot up, a sudden rush of determination replacing fear. “Nonsense,” she huffed. “This ends today.”
And when the shadow darted toward the door and slipped into the hallway, she followed it without a second thought.