Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“Ilove this color,” Emilie said, trailing her fingers along a light pink tulip in the garden.
The petal was silky against her fingertips, and she luxuriated in it before turning to look at Catherine.
“Do ye think we might be able to use the color in one of the rooms?”
“Ye want to paint a room pink?” Catherine blinked at her, her moss green eyes lit with confusion.
It had been like that since she first left the cellar after talking with her husband. Catherine had been waiting for her just at the top of the steps, and the moment she’d seen Emilie, the young maid had insisted on giving her a tour of the grounds.
Which, of course, had taken every last bit of the morning. The grounds at Castle McGregor were vast, they were sprawling, and expansive, and she was having a hard time wrapping her mind around it.
And all of this is mine. I live here now.
It was a thought that Emilie consistently had to push down.
Reminding herself constantly that she owned none of it.
That her stay at Castle McGregor was not permanent.
As soon as she had her annulment, she would be heading back to the abbey, leaving everything that she’d seen that day to be nothing but a distant memory.
“Of course I want to paint things this color,” Emilie interjected, giving Catherine a soft smile. “It’s lovely.”
“I just daenae think the Laird will like it,” Catherine murmured, chewing the inside of her cheek.
Which is precisely the point.
Emilie grinned to herself, turning her face so that Catherine would not see the smirk toying at her lips. She admired the color a little longer, staring at it and imagining it on the library walls.
Or perhaps the family dining room.
Or maybe even the Great Hall.
Emilie liked the color. She hadn’t lied about that. But the fact that it would annoy the Laird, especially if she found a place of prominence to paint it?
That was the real benefit.
But that wasn’t something that Emilie could say out loud to Catherine. So, instead, she just shrugged.
“He said I could do whatever I want to the castle,” Emilie said, doing her best to sound nonchalant. “And I want to paint a room the same color as this tulip.”
Catherine still looked uncertain, but she said nothing further. Emilie turned, walking back through the garden and admiring even more of the flowers.
So far that day, Emilie had seen three different courtyards—a massive topiary garden complete with a hedge maze, one smaller flower garden, and now the one that they were walking through.
Never in her wildest dreams had Emilie been able to conjure up such opulence. And yet, there she was. Walking through some of the finest gardens that she had ever laid eyes on.
Emilie’s stomach gave a loud, obnoxious growl. She had been ignoring her hunger pangs for some time now, not wanting to go back into the castle to sit alone and eat. Sure, she’d likely be able to convince Catherine to sit and eat with her.
As lovely as the maid was, she was beginning to crave the company of others.
“Are ye hungry, me Lady?” Catherine asked. “It is about time for the midday meal. We can start goin’ back up to the castle if ye like.”
Emilie nodded regretfully. There was no real reason she could think of to decline going back to the castle. It wasn’t as if she could deny that her stomach had just growled loudly for all to hear.
“This way, me Lady.”
Catherine nodded toward one of the gravel, flowering paths, then turned and began walking quickly. A summer breeze floated off the sea, ruffling Emilie’s chestnut hair as she followed after the woman before her.
I’ll miss the smell of the sea when I go back to the abbey. It makes everythin’ quite lovely.
It was the first thing she’d come to appreciate about Castle McGregor. The way the air always smelled of salt. It made it feel fresh and invigorating, unlike the stiff air of the forests surrounding the nunnery.
The Castle was lively when they walked through the northeast entrance. The kitchens were directly to the right, and the smell of food wafted to them the moment they opened the doors.
“It smells lovely,” Emilie mused, sniffing delicately at the air.
“The cook must be preparin’ somethin’ lovely for supper tonight,” Catherine mused. “Because it’ll be a quick lunch that ye’ll be eatin’. The Laird likes his midday meal to be simple.”
Emilie opened her mouth to ask further about that, but they’d just turned a corner and she realized they had arrived at the dining room already.
As Emilie turned the corner, peering into the room beyond, her mouth popped open in surprise.
She’d expected the dining room to be empty, certain that it would just be another repeat of the breakfast she’d had that morning. But the room was not empty. Not in the slightest.
Archer sat in the chair at the head of the table, facing the doorway. Aurora and Louis sat in the chairs on either side of him.
“I’ll leave ye be, me Lady,” Catherine all but whispered. “Enjoy yer lunch, and please, send for me if ye need anythin’.”
Emilie wanted to stop her. Her fingers itched with the desire to reach out and put her hand on the girl’s arm, asking her not to leave her alone.
But she did not.
Archer was glancing at her, a glower on his face, while both of the children stared a bit absentmindedly at their place.
There was no joy in this place. No laughter that she would have expected with two small children occupying the space. And as Emilie stepped forward, the air grew oppressive.
“Have ye come to join us for lunch?” Archer growled at her, arching a brow.
Emilie nodded. “Aye, got a bit famished explorin’ the grounds.”
“What all did ye see?”
His tone sounded more curious than the angry growling it had been earlier, in the cellar. She took that as a good sign as she tucked herself into the table.
“Catherine showed me all the gardens,” Emilie explained, glancing at Aurora, who was seated across from her, and then Louis, who was seated beside her. “She also showed me a few of the paths down toward the beaches, but I dinnae get to go down them. Nae yet.”
Archer grunted and nodded his head, but provided no further commentary. An awkward silence fell over the table.
Emilie focused her attention on the few serving plates before her. An assortment of cured meats, cheese, bread, and fruit had been laid out. Her stomach gave another loud growl at the sight of it.
A soft giggle sounded from next to her, and Emilie glanced at Louis as she placed food upon her plate.
“Did ye find somethin’ funny?” she asked, giving the young boy a quick smile.
He glanced at her sidelong through long, dark lashes, a smirk toying at the corners of his lips, but never fully lighting his face. She glanced at Aurora.
The girl was watching the exchange, and the way she was looking at Emilie told her the girl thought she was an absolute dolt.
“Ye cannae go to the beaches at this time of the year,” Aurora informed, an air of superiority in her voice. “Water is too cold. Willnae warm up for a few weeks, which is what Faither says.”
Archer glanced at his daughter, an unreadable expression on his face, before he merely grunted his agreement and glanced back down at his plate.
“Do ye like goin’ to the beach when it’s warm enough?” Emilie was hoping the question would allow an opening, provide her with the space to find some warmth within Aurora.
It was her first time seeing the girl since the night before, at the cèilidh. And from the moment Emilie had set foot in the dining room, Aurora’s demeanor still appeared cold and displeased.
“We love goin’ to the beach,” Louis chimed in from beside her.
For the first time since Emilie had sat down, Louis had fully removed his attention from his plate. He was sitting straight now, looking at Emilie with a wide, open smile.
“We have Marjorie take us when it’s really lovely out,” he continued, excited by the content of the conversation. “She takes us and she teaches us about the sea and the fish.”
“And who is Marjorie?” Emilie asked, reaching down and plucking a piece of cured beef from her plate.
She took a large bite, the saltiness of the meat washing over her. Her stomach gave another lurch, begging for more sustenance. She ripped off a hunk of fresh bread as Louis continued speaking.
“She’s one of our tutors,” Louis explained excitedly. “She teaches us our letters. And, sometimes, we go walkin’ and she teaches us about plants and animals. Says it’s good to understand the world.”
“Is that so?” Archer’s voice was a growl, breaking through Louis’s excited chatter.
Immediately, the young boy’s face fell. Color rose high in his cheeks, and he diverted his gaze, turning it back down to the food in front of him.
Emilie glanced at Archer, who was staring pointedly at his son.
“I wasnae aware of any trips outside when ye should be learnin’,” he continued, staring at Louis’ side profile. “I’ll be havin’ a talk with Miss Marjorie.”
“Why would ye nae want them to go outside and learn?” Emilie asked, unable to stop herself.
A glance at Aurora showed her that the young girl was also studying her plate. She was staring down, a muscle ticking in her jaw.
The bairns are scared of their faither.
The thought caught Emilie off guard. She’d noticed immediately that the family did not seem particularly close. But she hadn’t thought that the children were actually afraid of Archer. Not until that moment.
A thousand different scenarios rushed through her mind, all of them trying to figure out why the children would be so timid around their father. Catherine had not mentioned anything.
In fact, while she had been blathering away earlier in the day about how Archer, while a firm Laird, was also one who seemed to operate from a place of deep caring. The maid had indicated that Archer seemed the type of laird who always wanted to do right by the people he was overseeing.
So, why would the children of a man such as that be so afraid of speaking out?