Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
A iden wasn’t just surprised when the gathering room went silent, he was astonished. The only time the room was this quiet was when it was empty.
When he turned to see what had drawn the attention of his family, he quickly realized what had turned them all mute.
His wife was coming down the stairs.
Nay. She was descending the stairs with such grace and beauty, he might have sworn she was an angel floating down from heaven. But he knew better.
Still, he could not deny her beauty in this moment, no matter how hard he tried. She wore a beautiful, dark-blue wool gown trimmed in goldenrod. One thick, luxurious braid cascaded over one shoulder, ending at her waist. And just how she made her beautiful hair sparkle in the candlelight was beyond him.
But what surprised him most of all was the fact that she was smiling. Oh, ’twasn’t a broad, beaming smile. Nay, ’twas a hopeful smile, as if she were asking, “Am I welcome here?” And something else… He couldn’t quite describe it.
’Twasn’t until Emery elbowed him in the ribs that he realized he’d been staring at her. “Go get her,” he whispered exasperatedly.
Aiden pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room just as Margaret stepped off the last step. “Margaret,” he said with a smile and a nod. “’Tis good to see ye.”
He caught a flash of relief behind her pretty blue eyes. Odd, he mused quietly. Had he not done everything he could to make her feel welcome? Pushing the thought aside, he held out his elbow.
Reluctantly, she placed her hand in the crook of his arm. Aiden could feel the slight tremble in her fingers. She is a peculiar lass, he thought as he led her towards the dais.
A peculiar lass, indeed.
Deep down, Margaret was terrified, and she prayed Aiden wouldn’t notice. He had accepted her olive branch with a smile and the offer of his arm.
Reluctantly, she accepted his arm. The trembling in her hands and legs didn’t stop until she was seated at the dais next to him.
She could see that someone had been sitting next to Aiden before her arrival. She assumed it had been George, for he was brushing away crumbs from the spot where Aiden placed her.
“I did nae mean to take your seat,” she told George. “Mayhap I should sit elsewhere?”
She saw his forced smile as he said, “Nay, this is your seat, my lady.”
A fortnight ago, she had demanded everyone address her as “my lady.” But now, hearing someone speak it left her feeling ashamed of herself.
She caught a flash of distrust and anger in George’s eyes as he pulled out the chair for her. Ye have no one to blame but yerself, she thought as she sat down. ’ Tis no wonder he doesn ’ t trust ye, considerin ’ yer behavior this past fortnight.
George took his trencher and moved to a lower table in front of the dais. She couldn’t remember the woman’s name he sat next to, but she supposed it was his wife.
Glancing briefly at those left at the dais, she found Lizabet sitting next to a handsome man whom she couldn’t remember meeting. To Aiden’s right sat another man whose name escaped her and Annabella. Annabella leaned over to say, “I am verra glad to see ye, Margaret!” Her smile was honest and genuine.
She could not help but return Annabella’s smile. “I am glad to be here.”
“Are ye hungry, lass?” Aiden asked as he motioned for one of the maids to bring her a trencher.
“I am,” she replied, doing her best to smile warmly at him. Aye, she was hungry, but her stomach was tied in knots, and she worried that whatever she ate might come bubbling up later.
As soon as the trencher was placed in front of her, Aiden began to offer choices, though they were few. A stew, bread, a small selection of cheeses, and a delightful-smelling apple sweet. That was the extent of the meal.
Worry settled in over her shoulders. She didn’t realize she was frowning until Aiden asked, “Are ye well, lass?”
Forcing a smile, she said, “Aye,” as she glanced around the room. Aiden’s family took up nearly all of the tables. None of them appeared bothered by the meager choices in food.
Nay, they all appeared happy and, dare she say, content. Children sat with their parents, giggling and chatting away as if they had not a care in the world.
That is how is should be, she mused.
“Lass?” Aiden said in a low tone.
When she turned to look at him, he had a look of concern etched in his brow. “Are ye sure ye are well?”
His genuine concern for her well being made her feel as if he had wrapped her in warm furs. She felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over her, a wholly unusual sensation. One she had not felt in a good number of years.
“Aye,” she replied. “I am simply trying to remember who is who. Ye have a verra large family, Aiden,” she quipped. “I worry I will never remember all of their names.”
Aiden.
’Twas the first time she had ever called him by name. He found it utterly surprising how it made his heart skip a beat, hearing his name pass through her lips. Her full, delectable-looking lips. Lips he wanted pressed against his own.
He forced himself to push those thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand. There was still too much doubt lingering in his mind. Doubt about Margaret and any ulterior motives she might have. Truly, they’d been married more than a fortnight, and this was the first time she had decided to grace them with her presence at the evening meal or any other meal, for that matter.
“Stew?” He nodded toward the large pot sitting on the table.
“Aye,” she whispered. “But just a little.”
He ladled a small helping into her trencher before offering her a plate of cheese. She declined politely but took his offer of warm, brown bread.
After serving her, he turned his attention to the other people in his gathering room. He refused to serve himself so much as a crumb of bread until he knew the rest of his family had enough to eat.
Their larders were growing barer by the day. Not only had the continual border skirmishes with McLeans, MacKinnons, and Duffies put a financial strain on their coffers, but so had the weather. Three years of excessive rain had taken its toll on their crops. They barely grew enough to survive.
Trade with other clans was next to impossible, thanks to their enemies. Leaving their own lands to trade with other clans was far too great a risk. The MacKinnons took great pleasure in refusing to grant them passage across their lands in order to trade farther west.
The MacKinnon.
Lord, how Aiden despised that ruthless coward.
The war betwixt their clans had been going on for generations, all due to the MacKinnons’ greed. Something passed down from one chief to the next.
They wanted Randall lands.
Aiden would rather die than to give anyone so much as an inch of their lands. Aye, it might not be the best land to grow crops, but it was still theirs. And he’d die before he allowed it to fall into Andrew MacKinnon’s greedy hands.
Margaret hid her nervous apprehension quite nicely—or so she believed.
Thus far, she hadn’t spilled any food onto her gown, nor had she knocked over her mug of cider or committed any other faux pas that would bring her or Aiden any kind of shame or embarrassment. Aye, the evening was going quite nicely.
Occasionally, however, she did catch George staring at her as though she was some kind of newly discovered spy or traitor.
Oddly, she didn’t feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny or angry glare. She knew it to be exactly what it was: doubt and mistrust. Those were feelings she had lived with for years.
As the evening wore on, a group of men gathered near the hearth, and soon, the gathering room was filled with the melodic sound of music and singing. She recognized two of the men singing as Aiden’s younger brothers, but their names escaped her.
Soon, the children were dancing, spinning around in circles, laughing and squealing with delight. The din of conversation grew louder and louder.
Honestly, Margaret could not remember an evening such as this ever taking place at the MacCallen keep. After Mairi passed away, it seemed she took all the joy and laughter with her. It became even worse after her father’s death.
She soon found herself clapping along with everyone else to the beat of the music. Joy and light filled her heart.
“’Tis good to see ye happy, lass!” Aiden had to shout in order to be heard.
“’Tis good to feel happy!” she replied exuberantly.
It was nothing short of the truth. It had been far, far too long since she felt anything even closely resembling giddiness. Aye, ’twas an odd sensation, but one she decided to relish in instead of question.
If I knew that all it would take to see that joyful and happy smile on her face was a bit of music, I would have sent musicians to her room long ago!
Aiden was beyond happy to see his wife enjoying herself. Now he understood fully what his people had been saying about her smile: It was bright enough to light even the darkest of days or nights.
When the children began to take their dance to the dais, he could not help but to laugh. Symon came to Margaret, bowed deeply to her, then took her hand in his. He pulled her up to dance with him.
And Margaret didn’t think twice about accepting the lad’s offer. Gleefully, she got to her feet and curtsied as if she were the queen of Scotland. Graceful, dignified, and elegant.
Her dancing partner, however, was quite the opposite. Symon had taken her hand and began to spin himself around and around until he was quite dizzy. To Aiden’s way of thinking, the boy resembled an extremely drunk minstrel.
Margaret continued to laugh and giggle at his nephew. Aye, she was soaking up every bit of the moment, clapping in time with the music and laughing at Symon’s antics.
Soon, Symon had spun himself around to the point of falling down. Lying on his back, with his arms and legs spread out, he laughed until he cried.
Soon, his cousins were joining him, spinning themselves to madness, toppling over one another in a frenzy of delightful giggles.
“Spin around, Aunt Margaret!” Little Alyce and Collin were calling out to her. “’Tis fun!”
Margaret didn’t even bother to pretend she couldn’t or argue that she was too old. A heartbeat later, she was spinning around in circles, giggling, with her arms stretched out wide and her head tilted back.
’Twas absolute glee he saw in her eyes and beaming smile.
Absolute, undeniable glee.
His heart skipped several beats as he watched his bride behaving as if she had not a care in this world. Oh, she was a force to be reckoned with, of that, he had no doubt.
But to see her true self shining as brightly as the noonday sun, oh! How he wanted to make her smile and beam like this every single day.
Margaret stopped spinning, out of breath and swaying to and fro. Her eyes grew wide as she began to fall. Not wanting to land on any of the children, she took two wobbly steps backward and landed right in her husband’s lap.
Their gazes met after her dizziness began to wane.
Each of them were smiling at the other.
They hadn’t been this close to one another since the day they wed and traveled back to the Randall keep.
Except, this time, Margaret wasn’t forlorn or crestfallen or angry.
Nay, she looked into Aiden’s eyes as she continued to smile. ’Twas as if they were seeing one another for the first time.
He found it rather delightful that, when her gaze fell to his lips, he could feel her breathing increase. With his hand on her back, he could also feel the rapid beat of her heart.
Margaret glanced up to look into his eyes before turning her attention back to his lips. He couldn’t hep but wonder if she had ever been kissed.
He decided to take the chance and find out.
’Twas the softest, most tender of kisses.
And her very first.
A kiss that she would remember all the rest of her days. Sweet and tender, soft and gentle, warm and exciting all at once.
There was so much unspoken in that blissful moment. Words he didn’t utter but were said nonetheless: “Ye are safe with me.”
When Margaret slowly pulled away to look into his big brown eyes, she knew the truth. With every fiber of her being, she was safe with him. Safe and cared for.
I can trust him with my heart, she mused, right before another voice invaded this sweet and tender moment.
“But can ye trust him with yer secret?”
The thought struck her with such force, her body felt as though it had just been crushed by a boulder. She sucked in a deep, fearful breath as her eyes grew as wide as trenchers.
The moment was gone.
Destroyed by her mother’s ever present, never-too-far-away voice.
Her eyes filled with tears. She watched Aiden’s smile evaporate before his expression changed to one of concern.
I dinnae deserve this! Her inner voice was shouting. Ye dinnae deserve a moment's happiness, nae after what ye have done!
“Lass?” Aiden asked, his concern growing by leaps and bounds.
There was no way she could speak. If she did, she might purge herself of the dark, ugly secret she had been keeping all these years. To do so was akin to writing her own death sentence.
In a rapid heartbeat, she had dislodged herself from his lap and was running toward the spiral staircase. She ignored Aiden’s pleas to stop. She couldn’t survive another moment in such close proximity to him.
With handfuls of skirts, she ran up the stairs and to her bedchamber, where she slammed the door hard before launching herself across her bed. She buried her head into her pillow and wept.
Ye are an eejit! That inner voice chastised. Why on earth would ye think ye could be happy? He will find out your secret soon enough, and then where will ye be? Shackled and thrown into the monastery, with your only human interaction being yer mother!
The thought of being imprisoned with her mother for all the rest of her days made her want to retch. Her stomach churned with fear and disgust as bile rose in her throat.
As quickly as she could, she crawled out of her bed and raced to the chamber pot. Her stomach twisted and turned until the contents of her evening meal splashed into the chamber pot. Wave after wave of gut wrenching and vomiting.
Blood rushed in her ears as she continued to retch. Sweat broke out across her forehead an upper lip, her body shaking and trembling with each upheaval.
After several long, unsettling moments, her stomach began to settle. When the threat of more vomiting finally passed, she took in several slow, deep breaths.
She crawled away from the chamber pot and leaned her back against the frigid stone wall. Keeping her eyes closed, she focused solely on her breaths. Slowly, she breathed in through her nostrils, held her breath for only a moment, and then let it out slowly through her mouth.
Having been so fully focused on her upset stomach, she hadn’t heard anyone enter her room. When she felt a cold compress being pressed against her forehead, she wasn’t so much startled as she was relieved and thankful.
The cold cloth felt good against her skin. “Thank ye,” she murmured, her voice scratchy.
She had assumed that it was one of her sisters-by-law who was tending to her, but that assumption was quickly dispelled when she heard Aiden’s voice. “Lass? Do ye need the healer?”
Stunned, her eyes flew open as her mouth fell agape.
Aiden asked the question again. “Do ye need the healer?”
His concern was genuine but not necessary. Oh, she appreciated his tender ministrations and inquiries, but that lingering voice continued to tell her that she was unworthy of any kindness.
Unable to answer, she simply gave a slow shake of her head. Closing her eyes once again, she pressed her head against the cold stone wall. “Ye can leave now,” she muttered. “It has passed, and I am well.”
She heard his heavy sigh, which was quickly followed by the sound of him sliding down the wall to sit beside her. “I fear ye and Symon danced far too much,” he said, trying to lighten the moment.
They both knew that wasn’t what caused her to flee the gathering room. But only one of them knew what did cause it .
“Mayhap,” she lied in a ragged whisper.
They sat in quiet contemplation for a long while. Part of her was glad he was here. The other, much louder part wished for all the world that he would leave.
She couldn’t bear to look at him. She knew that, if she did, she would be so weakened by his honest concern that she would confess all of her sins. Secret sins she carried with her no matter where she went. Heavy and burdensome the secrets were, and they were growing heavier and more cumbersome with each passing day.
“Lass? Did I upset ye when I kissed ye?”
Her shoulders sagged with guilt. “Nay, Aiden,” she replied as she opened her eyes.
The silence yawned for some time before he broke it again. “Then, pray, tell me what is the matter? Why did ye flee from me as if yer hair were on fire?”
While she had no desire to lie to him, she also couldn’t tell him the truth. She was stuck between a stone wall and a hard place.
“I wasn’t feeling well,” she said, choosing to lie instead of ridding herself of her dark secrets.
Another heavy sigh of resignation. “Margaret, I need you to ken that ye can trust me. I will always be here for ye, no matter what.”
She couldn’t help but to scoff at that idea. Nay, the moment he knew the truth he would send her away to go live with her mother.
It simply wasn’t worth the risk.
Nay, she was doomed to a life of unhappiness and suffering. She had no one to blame but herself.
Aiden sat with her for a long while as she wept quietly. More than once he offered to hold her, but she pushed him away. Not angrily or bitterly as she would have done in the past. Nay, she simply shook her head and refused his offers of comfort.
She would have enjoyed being held, at least for a little while, but her guilt was too profound. Margaret was also afraid she would be tempted to confess her sins to him and what would happen after.
Aiden finally gave up his attempts to console her. He got to his feet and looked down at her. “Lass, I dinnae ken how I can help ye if ye dinnae trust me.”
Margaret swallowed back her tears as well as a sharp retort. No one can help me.
Before leaving the room, he stoked the fire and added a log. From the doorway, he looked back and said, “Dinnae sit too long on the floor, lass. Ye will catch a chill.”
He said naught else before leaving, softly closing the door behind him.
In her heart, she wanted to chase after him, throw herself into his arms, and beg him to promise he would not throw her away. She wanted to confess everything, every wicked deed she’d ever done.
She was simply too afraid to move, too terrified take that chance.