Chapter 6
I’ll see ye soon, me darling bride.
He was mocking her, that was all. He was mocking her, and yet his words had burrowed into her mind and echoed there.
She could still see his wry, teasing smile, and could hear his light voice in her head.
When had his voice and face imprinted themselves so firmly in her mind?
It was a thoroughly unsettling realization, one that made her feel quite uncomfortable.
Stay calm. Nae everythin’ means somethin’. He is just mockin’ ye. He doesnae mean anythin’. His words are just… just words. Let them go. Ye had better learn not to care what he says if ye intend to make it through the next three months.
Three months really seemed like a lot of time, but also not enough. What was she supposed to think about that? What was that supposed to mean?
Ye are nae thinkin’ straight. That’s all it is.
Megan swallowed thickly, giving her head a little shake. He was playing a part for his sister’s benefit, clearly with the hope of upsetting Megan, too.
So why was there a flutter in her gut that would not go away?
It’s annoyance, she told herself firmly. It’s because I do nae like him, but I’m forced to be near him anyway.
If he weren’t so handsome, I would have nay trouble dislikin’ him plainly.
It’s just because he’s handsome that I’m findin’ meself confused.
That’s all. Good looks really are a curse.
Ye struggle to see through a person’s handsome exterior to the person underneath.
And the person underneath is not a good man. He is annoying, unpleasant, and more.
“I am nae afraid,” she muttered.
Sophie twisted around to squint up at her.
“What did ye say?” she demanded.
Megan flushed. “I… nothin’. I was only talkin’ to meself.”
The little girl eyed her. “Talkin’ to yerself?”
“Aye, it’s a bad habit. Makes ye look mad.”
Megan pulled a face, sticking out her tongue. Sophie broke into a smile, giggling.
“Ye are ever so bonny, ye ken,” she added. “Nae right now, of course.”
How humbling, Megan thought wryly, uncrossing her eyes and pulling in her tongue.
She felt the urge to giggle and bit the tip of her tongue to stay calm.
She hadn’t yet secured herself with Sophie.
There was still work to be done. The little girl was sweet and friendly, but she was also not stupid.
Megan had a sense that Sophie would see straight through any lies or bluffs.
Her trust, once lost, wouldn’t be so easily regained.
I find that I daenae want to lose her trust. I daenae wish to disappoint her. I… I want her to like me. I feel like I did with me sisters, before they all found husbands and got tired of me.
Oh, that was unfair. Her sisters weren’t tired of her. They loved her. Still, when they were living far away in their fine keeps and castles, with adoring husbands and growing families, it was hard for Megan not to feel forgotten. She knew she was being selfish. She knew that she was being unfair.
And yet, the feeling was there, and would not quite go away.
They were weaving their way through high-ceilinged stone corridors, set out in a maze that would’ve gotten Megan lost in moments.
The Keep was cold and austere, with hardly any tapestries or paintings on the walls. There were no rugs or carpets, only endless stone flags. Their footsteps echoed as they scurried along, bouncing back from the walls.
They passed sentries here and there, soldiers who made no move to stop them, but whose eyes followed them all the way along the corridor. Megan could feel their eyes on her in particular, wondering who this young woman was who was escorting Lady Sophie.
She guessed that word of her presence would go around the Keep quickly. Gossip always flowed like water in a place like this. In fact, gossip was almost the lifeblood of a Keep. The laird rose above it, of course, but only a foolish ruler didn’t listen to the whisperings of his underlings.
Or so Ma had said, and she was generally right about those things.
They reached a narrow set of stone stairs, spiraling upward into a tower.
“Alaina and I sleep in the East Tower,” Sophie explained, hanging onto Megan’s hand as she tugged her upwards.
“Ry used to sleep in another tower, but he moved his room here a few weeks ago. Alaina said that he only did it to keep an eye on her. She was very angry. I imagine you’ll be sleepin’ here too, as Ry said that it will be the Family Tower from now on.
I like the idea of us all sleepin’ in the same tower, daenae ye? ”
“Aye, I think so.”
The steps climbed up and up. Occasionally, they would reach a square landing with a window set into one side and a door set into the other. Megan tried to remember how tall the towers had been and guessed there was only room for one room per floor.
Sophie glanced over her shoulder, walking past yet another landing.
Megan had counted at least six rooms so far, and the spiral staircase grew thinner and thinner.
There were no panes of glass in the narrow windows of the stairs, and the air came in cold.
In places, frost spider-webbed over the stone.
“Ye are nae out of breath,” Sophie remarked, sounding surprised. “When Flora comes up here, she puffs and pants. Of course, Flora is goin’ to have a baby. Her belly is very big. It weighs her down sometimes.”
“I imagine that it does. Poor Flora. Well, I am nae pregnant, and I am used to a lot of exercise. I am used to stairs. I also run and jump a lot and ride a horse. If Flora is yer maid, she willnae have to do so much runnin’, I expect.
And, as ye say, she is pregnant, so it isnae fair to expect her to have so much energy. ”
Sophie nodded, accepting this. “Ye seem very strong.”
“Aye, too strong for a woman, I suppose,” Megan responded, biting back a sigh.
Sophie paused, turning around to frown at her.
“What do ye mean?”
Megan paused, frowning at the little girl, and wished she’d chosen her words more carefully. Sophie waited earnestly for her response, head tilted to one side, and Megan understood then that her answer was going to be important. Her answer would matter. It would be remembered.
“Well,” she began, as carefully as she could, “I only mean that softer, curvier women are considered beautiful. More beautiful, I should say. We are all beautiful in our own way. Every single person in the world is different, and that is fine. For example, I will tell ye about one of me sisters, Brigid. Brigid is a wonderful woman, and the finest sister I could want. As far as looks go, she’s beautifully plump, and men always fell all over her.
Me sisters are all beautiful, of course, but I thought she was the prettiest. I always hoped to look like her, but I daenae.
In fact, I couldnae be more different. I am all muscles and angles. ”
“And that’s a bad thing?” Sophie asked slowly, a line appearing between her brows.
Megan was about to say yes, but paused.
She eyed the little girl, taking in the faint expression of anxiety on her face.
Sophie was a thin girl, and might well grow up to be lean and muscular like Megan herself.
If Megan told her now that only soft, rounded girls were beautiful, was that something Sophie would carry inside her forever?
Would it stay in her heart? A simply put sentence, an off-hand insult, or a passing comment could hurt a girl of Sophie’s age.
“Nay,” Megan said firmly. “It’s nae a bad thing. Beauty comes in all different forms, after all. Ye cannae compare a daisy to a daffodil, but are they nae both beautiful?”
Sophie nodded, cheering up. “Aye, that’s right. They are both beautiful.”
She turned and began to skip up the stairs, leaving Megan to follow. She was about to ask how much further they had to go to get to Alaina’s room, but the words died in her throat when she reached the next landing.
A pair of guards was placed on the stairs—one a step below the landing and one a step above it—and a third guard leaned against the door itself. All three of them lounged around, smothering yawns. They seemed almost surprised to see Megan and Sophie there, which was a little worrying.
They must have heard us comin’, she thought, frowning. If they didnae hear us, then that isnae a good sign.
“Lady Sophie,” one guard said, stepping forward. “Who is this woman?”
“This,” Sophie pronounced seriously, “is Megan.”
The guard met her eyes, his gaze sweeping up and down her figure with clear approval. Megan clenched her jaw and fought the urge to cross her arms. That would only amuse him.
“What a fine-lookin’ friend ye have brought,” the man leered.
“Oh, aye,” Sophie continued blithely. “She’s goin’ to marry Ry.”
There was a half-second of frozen, horrified silence. The look of terror on the guard’s face was almost amusing to behold.
“L-L-Laird MacCulloch is betrothed?” the man stammered, tightening his grip on his pike until his knuckles stood out white. “To ye? That… that cannae be true.”
“It’s a recent development,” Megan responded coolly, meeting his eye and holding. “Ye may inquire of him if ye like.”
And better nae let him catch ye leerin’ at his betrothed, she added mentally, allowing herself a small, satisfied smile.
The guard nodded energetically, the knives on his belt rattling.
“Aye, me Lady, I will.”
“We want to see Alaina,” Sophie piped up. “She willnae come if ye three are here. Can ye move away?”
The guard hesitated, but Megan took a step forward, up onto the landing. They were almost at eye level, and he visibly shrank back.
“I think it would be best,” Megan said sweetly. The man swallowed, then nodded nervously, glancing at his companions. He jerked his head, and the three of them moved down the steps, disappearing around the curve of the staircase.