Chapter Six Murieall
The gown the servant had provided scratched at my skin, a wool blend far coarser than what I was accustomed to at home.
I paced the small bedchamber, running my fingers over the rough-hewn stone walls that surrounded me like a prison.
Or perhaps a sanctuary, depending on how one viewed my bargain with the laird.
I could withstand one month of sharing Munro’s bed, but not his body, and by day, I would care for his daughters, whom he couldn’t bear to look upon.
I could do this. I repeated it until I felt I believed it.
I moved to the narrow window, peering out at the grey northern sky.
Wind howled around the castle battlements, carrying the distant crash of waves against the cliffs below.
How strange that my fate now rested in the hands of a broken man who dulled his pain with wine and women.
I needed to make him feel again, but the question of how loomed large as a mountain before me.
A sound outside my door pulled me from my thoughts.
I pressed my ear close and listened to soft giggles, quickly hushed, and then the patter of small feet.
I frowned, thinking about what Munro had said.
James was meant to bring the girls to me, but these sounds suggested they had arrived without escort.
I pulled the door open to find two small figures frozen in surprise, their eyes wide as they stared up at me. The older girl had flame-red hair that reminded me of autumn leaves, while the younger had fair locks that framed a heart-shaped face.
“Are ye Murieall?” the taller one asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Aye, I am,” I replied, offering what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “And who might ye be?”
The smaller one giggled, hiding partially behind her sister. “I’m Bess,” she said. “I’m seven summers.”
“And I’m Guinn,” the red-haired lass added. “I’m eight. We’re supposed to be playing tag with James, but he sent us to find ye instead. He said ye would join our game.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. Had James deliberately sent the girls to me rather than bringing them himself? I wondered if this was some ploy on his part. The man clearly had designs to see his laird restored to his former self, and perhaps he thought the lasses might be part of that transformation.
“Did he now?” I asked, glancing down the empty corridor. “And where is James?”
“He’s hiding!” Bess exclaimed, bouncing on her toes and grinning, dimples flashing. “He said ye should count to twenty and then come find us.”
I studied their eager faces, noting how Bess’s eyes were the same stormy blue as her da’s, while Guinn’s were bright green.
They seemed starved for attention, these lasses, their eyes shining with excitement at the prospect of a simple game.
My heart twisted at the thought of their da keeping them at arm’s length when they so clearly needed him.
“Verra well,” I said with an exaggerated sigh, as if the decision was a great burden. “I suppose I do nae have a choice but to play.” The girls’ faces lit up, and I couldn’t help but smile in response. “But I warn ye, I’m verra good at catching wee lasses who run too slowly.”
Bess shrieked with laughter, already backing away. “We’re the fastest in all of Scotland!” she declared.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I said, covering my eyes with my hands. “One… two… three…”
They scampered away, their footsteps echoing on the stone floor as I continued counting. When I reached twenty, I opened my eyes and stepped into the corridor. “Ready or nae, here I come!” I called and set off in the direction of their fading giggles.
The castle was a maze of corridors and staircases, with tapestries hanging on the walls depicting hunting scenes and battle victories.
I followed the sound of stifled laughter, catching glimpses of small figures darting around corners or hiding behind columns.
The game led me through parts of the stronghold I hadn’t yet seen—a library with cobwebs and two chairs by a fire that looked not to have been used in ages, and a narrow passage where the wind whistled through cracks in the mortar.
“I see ye, Bess!” I called, spotting her blue gown peeking out from behind a wooden chest. She squealed and darted away, her laughter ringing against the stone walls. Guinn appeared at the end of the corridor, waving her arms to distract me from her sister.
“Ye can nae catch us both!” she taunted, her red hair flying behind her as she turned to run.
The chase warmed my blood and lifted my spirits.
For a moment, I forgot about curses and bargains, lost in the simple joy of the children’s game.
I raced after Guinn, my skirts gathered in my fists, weaving through servants who pressed themselves against the walls to avoid being trampled.
The girls darted ahead, nimble as deer, turning a sharp corner with me close behind.
They suddenly stopped and ducked to either side of someone, and before I could check my momentum, I crashed headlong into a solid wall of a man. My hands pressed against a broad chest, and strong fingers grasped my waist to steady me. I looked up, my breath catching as I met Munro’s stormy gaze.
“What devilry is this?” he demanded, his voice booming through the corridor. His hands still gripped my waist, the heat of them burning through the fabric of my gown.
I became acutely aware of two small bodies pressing against my back, seeking shelter behind my skirts.
The girls had immediately retreated at their da’s anger, and something fierce and protective coursed through me.
I had known these children for less than an hour, but already I felt a duty to shield them from harm—even if that harm came from their own da’s coldness.
“’Tis nae devilry, but a game of tag,” I said, keeping my voice deliberately light despite the rapid beating of my heart. I gently extricated myself from his grip and turned slightly, placing one hand on each girl’s shoulder. “The lasses were showing me the castle.”
His eyes narrowed, flicking from me to the children who peeked out from behind me. “I told ye to keep them away from me,” he growled, though his voice had lowered somewhat.
Bess trembled beneath my hand, and her fright at her own da, caused my temper to surge. I straightened my spine, meeting his gaze steadily. “Ye should nae bellow so around the wee lasses,” I said, my tone gentle but firm. “Ye’re frightening them.”
Surprise flashed across his face, as if no one had dared to correct him in a very long time. His mouth opened, then closed, his brow furrowing as he looked down at his daughters. For a moment, something like regret shadowed his features, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words.
The girls remained half-hidden behind me, their small fingers clutching at my skirts.
Munro stood rigid, his face a mask of discomfort as he regarded his daughters with the wariness of a man facing unfamiliar terrain.
And there I stood between them. I was a stranger caught amid a family broken by something I didn’t yet understand.
“Guinn, Bess,” he finally said, his voice strained as if their names were foreign on his tongue. “Ye should nae be running through the castle like wild things.”
“We were just playing,” Guinn said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Munro flinched as if her words hit him. He looked at me, then back at his daughters, a man clearly caught in a situation he had no idea how to navigate.
Retreat flashed in his eyes before he even opened his mouth to make his excuses.
His body tensed, shoulders drawing back as he no doubt prepared to dismiss both his daughters and me in one breath.
I could not allow it. If I were to fulfill Morgana’s charge to make this man feel again, I needed to create moments when he and his daughters could begin to know each other once more, no matter how uncomfortable they might be.
“I’ve matters to attend to,” he muttered, already taking a step backward. “James will be looking for the lasses.”
“Actually,” I interjected quickly, offering him a smile I hoped appeared guileless rather than calculated, “I was hoping ye might show me around the castle. I’ll need to ken where to take the lasses during our daily activities. Where they can play safely, where they should nae go.”
His eyes darted, searching, I was certain, for an escape or excuse. Before he could find one, Guinn peered around my skirts, her green eyes bright with sudden hope.
“Can we join the tour, Da?” she asked, her voice hesitant but eager.
Bess, emboldened by her sister’s bravery, stepped out from behind me entirely. “Please? We can help show Murieall where everything is.”
His face tightened, the refusal evident in his jaw’s set. I knew I had only seconds before he shattered the fragile hope in his daughters’ eyes.
“Aye, that’s a fine idea,” I rushed out, as if the matter were already decided. “We can all learn about each other better. After all, I’ll be looking after the lasses for a month, and I should ken what places they favor in the castle.”
His gaze met mine, a flash of annoyance evident there. I stared back steadily, silently challenging him to refuse in front of his daughters. After a tense moment, he gave a curt nod, though the rigid set of his shoulders spoke volumes about his reluctance.
“Verra well,” he said, his voice flat.
He turned abruptly and walked away, leaving us to follow in his wake.
I took each girl by the hand, giving them a reassuring squeeze as we hurried to catch up with his long strides.
He maintained a careful distance ahead of us, his back straight as a pike staff, shoulders set with tension that seemed to radiate from him in waves.
“We’ll start with the nursery,” he said without looking back. “I imagine the lasses have spent some time there since returning.”