Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Ye… ye bampot!” Isabelle shouted to herself as she paced the bedchamber the next day.
Her mind churned with uneasy thoughts, each one more cruel than the last.
Was I really enough for him?
The echo of consummating the marriage haunted her. She feared she had failed him, that he regretted marrying her, and that in his heart he had wished for Rosaline instead.
I am unsatisfactory in the ways of a wife. I dae nae please him.
Her gaze drifted to the window, where the early morning light shimmered on the loch. Across the water, a small fishing boat bobbed gently on the waves, a particular boat she had never noticed before.
She hardly paid it mind, her thoughts consumed with Declan and the stubborn pride that kept him distant from her.
Her moment of frustration was interrupted by the cheerful commotion outside her door. Three little voices called out in unison, and soon Hallie, Beth, and Penelope tumbled into the room, their laughter filling the space with warmth.
Behind them, Mabel followed, her serene presence a contrast to the children’s wild energy.
“Lady Isabelle!” Mabel said softly, a gentle smile on her face. “The girls are eager to be with ye this day . They’ve been talkin’ about it all mornin'.”
The triplets shouted all at once, their excitement barely contained. “We came to find ye, Lady Isabelle!” Hallie said, bouncing on her toes. “We’ve got games to play!”
“Tea!” Beth added, her wide eyes sparkling. “And cakes! Don’t forget cakes!”
Penelope grabbed Isabelle’s hand and tugged at it, her tiny face determined. “We want to spend the day with ye, Lady Isabelle. Please, please!”
Isabelle laughed softly, her heart lifting despite the heaviness from the night before.
“Aye, me darlings,” she said, smoothing their hair with careful hands. “Let’s have tea together, and ye can tell me all about yer adventures.”
Mabel nodded, stepping back with a fond look. “I’ll have a maid prepare the tea and some cakes for ye all.”
The children squealed in delight, hopping from foot to foot, their laughter echoing through the corridors.
Isabelle felt a warmth in her chest she had not known in days, a feeling of purpose beyond her own worries.
She took each child by the hand and led them into the solar room, the sunlight catching on the polished wood floors.
As the maid bustled in with the tray, Isabelle arranged the cups and plates with care, the simple act calming her restless mind. The aroma of fresh tea and sweet cakes filled the room, mingling with the children’s chatter.
“This is perfect,” she murmured, smiling down at the triplets as they clutched their teacups. “Ye’re exactly what I needed today.”
Hallie leaned close, whispering conspiratorially. “Lady Isabelle, do ye think Da will come to play with us too?”
Isabelle felt a pang in her chest at the mention of him, but she shook her head gently.
“I’m nae sure, lass. He is very busy,” she said, offering a soft smile. “Today, it’s our day together, just us.”
Beth clapped her hands, sending crumbs tumbling onto the table. “Then we’ll have the best day!” she declared, her eyes shining with excitement.
Penelope reached out and placed her small hand over Isabelle’s. “We like bein’ with ye, Lady Isabelle. Ye make us happy.”
Isabelle’s throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, a tear threatening to fall.
“And ye make me happy too, wee ones,” she said quietly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
She let herself relax in the children’s joy, feeling the tension of yesterday’s argument with Declan melt away for just a moment.
She took a small bite of cake, the sweetness reminding her of simpler times with her sister Norah and her nephews.
She realized that perhaps, through the children’s innocence and joy, she could find comfort even in the midst of her doubts.
Their laughter filled the room like music, and she allowed herself a small, genuine smile.
“I’m glad ye came to see me,” she said to the triplets, her voice soft and warm. “We’ll spend the whole day together.”
Hallie, Beth, and Penelope cheered, and Isabelle laughed along with them, the sound lighter than it had been in days.
Even Mabel smiled, a small, approving nod that warmed Isabelle’s heart. The room felt alive, full of the promise of friendship, laughter, and the possibility of healing.
“Lady Isabelle, we cannae wait for Yule!” Hallie exclaimed, clapping her hands.
“We want to find the Yule log and help set it ablaze!” Beth and Penelope nodded furiously, eyes alight with excitement.
Isabelle laughed softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Penelope’s ear.
“Och, ye sweet bairns,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “If ye’re so eager, then we’ll find the perfect log together today.”
Mabel smiled from across the table, a quiet warmth in her gaze as she watched the children chatter.
The girls squealed in delight, almost spilling their tea in their excitement, and Isabelle found herself smiling with genuine joy.
“I promise we’ll make it the best Yule yet,” she said, ruffling Hallie’s hair. “But ye must listen to Mabel and me, or ye’ll wander off like a pack of wildlings!”
The girls giggled, nodding solemnly as if they fully understood.
After finishing their tea, the little group bundled up in cloaks, made their way outside the castle’s stone walls.
“Now, which log shall be the chosen one, I wonder?” Penelope asked, looking around with wide, eager eyes.
Isabelle took the girls’ hands in hers, letting them lead the way, while Mabel followed quietly behind. The crisp winter air filled Isabelle’s lungs, and she felt a rare lightness in her chest.
“We’ll find it! We’ll find it!” Hallie shouted, running a few steps ahead and stopping suddenly to point at a gnarled old oak stump.
“No, over here!” Beth called, tugging at Isabelle’s sleeve and bouncing on the balls of her feet.
Penelope, not to be outdone, darted toward a moss-covered fallen branch. Isabelle and Mabel exchanged amused glances, allowing the children to lead, their enthusiasm infectious.
“Ye know,” Mabel said softly, falling in step beside Isabelle, “I’m surprised ye convinced me braither to let this happen. He’s nae a man to bend easily.”
Isabelle smiled, glancing down at the triplets’ energetic little forms. “He’s nae as cruel as I thought about Yule, Mabel.
He’d do anything for these bairns, even if I couldnae see it at first. I dinnae ken the reason for it.
I dinnae ken about Tristan. I am very sorry for yer loss,” she replied, a sudden warmth creeping into her chest as she admitted the truth to herself.
Mabel’s gaze softened, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thank ye. Ye neednae worry about what’s past, Isabelle. It’s clear ye care for them, and it’s not often ye see joy in this castle.”
Isabelle’s eyes lingered on the girls as they ran ahead, laughing and shouting, their cheeks flushed pink from the cold. She felt a pang of guilt, realizing she had judged Declan harshly without understanding the history he carried with the children and his brother.
“I suppose I was insensitive before, suggesting he was cruel,” Isabelle said quietly, more to herself than to Mabel. “I had nae idea about his faither or the way the past shaped him.”
Mabel patted her arm gently. “Ye’ve learned now, and that’s enough. We’ll celebrate anew, and it will bring joy back into these halls.”
The girls, oblivious to the conversation behind them, suddenly shrieked in unison.
“We found it! We found the perfect log!” Hallie cried, pointing to a broad, sturdy oak trunk that lay half-buried in the snow.
Beth and Penelope leapt to her side, hugging the log and each other in delight.
Isabelle and Mabel laughed, their hearts swelling as they hurried forward to join the children.
“Ye’ve chosen wisely, me dears,” Isabelle said, kneeling to brush snow from the log and inspecting it with mock seriousness.
The girls giggled, proud of their selection. Mabel crouched beside her, her hand resting gently on Isabelle’s shoulder.
“It’s a fine choice, Isabelle. Seems the Yule spirit is already with us,” she murmured, her eyes twinkling with quiet approval.
The triplets bounced around the log, their excitement infecting everyone nearby.
“We’ll carry it ourselves! Can we?” Penelope asked, her hands clasped together as if in prayer.
Isabelle chuckled, ruffling the girl’s hair. “I believe it is too heavy. Let us get a servant to help us,” she said firmly.
Mabel nodded in agreement, casting a watchful eye on the girls.
“Ye’ll learn responsibility and have fun at the same time,” she said softly.
Isabelle felt a wave of contentment wash over her as she watched the girls’ laughter ring as they ran back to get help.
“This,” Isabelle murmured to Mabel quietly, “this is what makes all the fuss and anger fade away.”
Mabel smiled knowingly.
The log lay ready before them, a symbol of warmth, new memories, and hope. Isabelle’s heart swelled with a mixture of joy and resolve; today, she could set aside her worries and simply be present for the children. A few moments later, the children returned with a servant to help carry the log.
“Let’s get it back to the castle,” Isabelle said, standing and dusting off her hands. “We’ll place it by the hearth and prepare for Yule.”
The girls cheered. Mabel and Isabelle walked side by side, sharing quiet laughter as they guided the trio.
By the time they returned inside, the log was positioned proudly before the fireplace.
The girls stood back, hands on hips, surveying their work as if it were the greatest achievement of their lives.
Isabelle knelt to their level, taking in their flushed, happy faces.
“Well done, me dears. Ye’ve chosen a fine log, and we’ll have a good Yule,” she said, her voice full of warmth and pride.
The triplets squealed in unison, hugging Isabelle and bouncing with glee. Mabel chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
Isabelle felt a rare peace settle over her, a feeling that despite the past and the tension with Declan, there could still be laughter, warmth, and joy in the castle.
Today, the Yule spirit had returned, carried on the laughter of three small, wild-hearted girls, and Isabelle knew it would stay with her long after the log was burned.
Isabelle and Mabel shared a quiet look, a wordless understanding passing between them. Life in the castle would always have its challenges, but moments like this made it all worthwhile.
With the log ready and the girls so happy, Isabelle allowed herself to smile fully, a lightness in her chest she had not felt in days.
I need to hold on a little longer.
“Tomorrow, we’ll gather holly and vines,” she said, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I’ll show ye how to decorate the hearth for Yule, so it’ll be grand and festive.”
The girls squealed in delight, clapping their hands and hugging one another, their laughter echoing through the room.
Mabel watched from the doorway, a warm expression on her face.
“Ye’ve brought such joy to these wee bairns, Isabelle,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with admiration.
Isabelle’s smile softened as she straightened, brushing snow from her skirts.
“I’m glad for it, Mabel. Seeing them happy… it makes me filled with joy.”
The evening wore on, and the group took supper together in the solar. Yet, Isabelle found herself looking toward the door. She hoped Declan would come to his senses and join them, but he never did.
The castle grew quiet. Isabelle and Mabel helped Bren take the triplets back to the nursery.
“Now I want ye to have a good sleep. Tomorrow there is much work to be done to make the decorations to use,” Isabelle said.
“I cannae wait,” Penelope said.
Isabelle moved to each one, tucking them in and kissing their foreheads. A warmth flooded through her. A motherly touch she didn’t know lived inside of her grew deep within.
She left the nursery and said goodnight to Mabel then retreated to her bedchamber. The warmth from the fire lingered on her cheeks. She slipped beneath the covers, thinking of the day’s joy and the laughter of the girls that had filled the castle with light.
Yet, as the shadows deepened and silence settled around her, the happiness ebbed from her heart.
She stared at the closed door.
Will ye come to me this night?
A faint hope that Declan might appear and share her quiet moment filled her.
But the room remained still, empty save for her own sighs and the faint whisper of wind outside. With a final soft exhale, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep, the memory of the children’s laughter carrying her into dreams.