Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“It’s a nice view ye got here,” Shona said, traipsing across the floor as she tidied up and then laid out another beautiful gown for Beatrice from the castle’s apparently extensive stores.
“Aye, it is. I do like nice views,” answered Beatrice. “I can see so much from here.”
Beyond the expansive window in her new room, she spotted a courtyard in full bloom.
Moss and grass and swathes of healthy, hearty green were growing in overlapping, intertwining collections while children ran between it all.
In a distant field, soldiers drilled and trained with swords, lances and shields.
Coming to look out of the window beside Beatrice, the maid gestured to a looming tower right on the other side of the castle.
“That’s where Laird MacSween sleeps. Ye can get a good look at him some night if he thinks to stand close to the window.”
“I’ve already seen him,” puzzled Beatrice and Shona laughed.
“Nae in his nightshirt ye havenae, and certainly nae in less than that,” she returned, making Beatrice laugh too even though she felt rather shocked.
Beatrice supposed that Shona imagined this was a normal marriage, and that Beatrice was waiting eagerly to be taken to the marriage bed by her new husband. She could hardly tell her maid the truth so she only smiled and blushed.
“Yer blushes become ye, Beatrice Whitmore,” Shona remarked approvingly, seeming far more forward than Margo usually was. “There’s many a lass would give her eyeteeth for such roses in her cheeks as ye have.”
“Ye can call me Beatrice, ye ken,” Beatrice offered, feeling that she needed a friend, maid or not.
“Nay, I cannae,” Shona shook her head. “The Laird said ye’re to be Beatrice here, so I shall call ye Beatrice, and Lady MacSween soon enough.”
“I willnae tell him if ye willnae,” Beatrice suggested and Shona laughed again.
“Ye’ll be getting the both of us into trouble, Beatrice,” she replied and bustled off to the other side of the room with some shoes.
Beatrice looked from the window again, towards the dark tower. He was so far away from her that she knew it must be deliberate. Either he wanted her out of his way, or he wished everyone to know her virtue was untouched. Maybe both were true, or there was some other explanation.
Her skin prickled as it occurred to her that if she could see Leo MacSween from her window, he could see her too. She had better not stand there in her nightgown, or anything less. The thought of that made her feel a little hot and restless. It was a foolish notion that she ought not to entertain.
“This afternoon, Laird MacSween will present ye around the castle,” Shona interrupted Beatrice’s strange thoughts. “What would ye like to wear?”
Beatrice touched the neck of the brown and gold dress she was already wearing.
“Is this one nae suitable?” she asked. “I only put it on before the council meeting and I thought it would do for anyone if was good enough for the clan council.”
“Ah, ye’re nae dressin' for all those advisers and soldiers and servants, Beatrice. Ye’re dressin' for the man ye’ll be weddin'.”
It was a new idea to Beatrice, but after a moment’s thought she nodded to Shona. When Leo MacSween had smiled approval of her appearance earlier, she had liked it. She would like to see him smile like that at her again.
“This green silk?” suggested Shona, holding up another dress. “It has the same structure as yer brown dress so yer stays and petticoats need nae be changed. Rubies would work well with the green. I’ll send Tyler to swap the emerald necklace for something with rubies.”
The clothes and jewels were finer than any Beatrice had ever seen, her own family jewels long sold to service her father’s many debts. She only nodded to Shona and stood to allow the maid to unfasten and remove her gown.
The maid had just slipped the green silk over Beatrice’s head when the door of the chamber burst open.
Her gown hanging from her shoulders and breasts partly uncovered, Beatrice spun around with alarm, to see the huge figure of Leo MacSween frozen in the doorway, looking half mesmerized and half as though he had just received a blow to the head.
Was it better or worse to receive this look than the smile Beatrice had hoped for? She wasn’t sure, but her heart was beating faster than it ought, even once the initial shock of the door opening had passed. The laird’s dark eyes seemed utterly fascinated by her state of semi-undress.
Recovering quickly, Leo MacSween averted his eyes as he realized the scene he had interrupted.
“Ye must get ready,” he barked at Beatrice. “We want to get around the whole castle this afternoon. Good God, woman, ye were dressed before. I had no idea…”
“Please, me laird, yer lady is still dressin'. Cannae ye nae wait a single minute outside the door for her?”
Shona’s voice was a perfect mix of respect and pointed persuasion.
“I have turned around,” he said gruffly and Shona sighed and tutted as she started fastening Beatrice’s gown.
“There now, ye look even more bonnie in the green than the brown. Daenae ye think so, me laird?”
“It is very bonnie,” he answered without even turning back to them.
“The color is beautiful,” Beatrice told Shona and then directed her words to the man in the doorway. “I must thank ye for all these lovely clothes, Laird MacSween.”
“It’s a beautiful color,” Beatrice agreed. She lifted her eyes to Leo’s, but he was staring down the hallway as if avoiding her gaze altogether. “I should thank ye for all these lovely clothes.”
“The castle stores are full of such gowns,” he answered briskly. “Me mother, me aunts, me grandmother, and other ladies besides, seem to have collected a whole wardrobe apiece and left them all here. If ye daenae wear them, they will only gather dust and feed moths.”
Beatrice trailed him out into the hallway.
She noticed his arm extend towards her and then drop back to his side.
He was staring straight ahead, so she assumed he had simply forgotten she was there, despite it seeming like he had meant to embrace her and pull her closer to his body.
Like the smitten expression she had imagined on his face earlier, she was pretty certain that Leo MacSween was not a man who did much embracing.
“Any woman who agrees to marry me needs to ken what this castle and clan are built on,” Leo began.
He didn’t slow his pace for her. She was thankfully a brisk walker by nature and wasn’t struggling to keep up.
“The MacSween name remains one of the strongest in Scotland because we arenae careless or wasteful. We are decisive, and we take action, but we daenae act without thinkin'. Ye can see me point?”
“I’m sure ye daenae believe the Whitmore name to be sullied just because me father has run up a few debts.”
Leo made a low, grumbling sound. “That’s only part of me point.”
They continued walking until they reached a heavy wooden door that Beatrice couldn’t move on her own.
Just pushing with both her hands onto it did nothing.
Leo, on the other hand, simply pushed it with one hand, his muscles barely tightening through his shirt.
The door croaked open. He stood with a foot on either side of the threshold and motioned for her to peek in.
“This is the Great Hall,” he said as she took in the massive room. The ceilings were vaulted and higher than any structure she had ever seen outside of a church. “It’s the Great Hall of me forefathers and the clansfolk that came before me.”
A tapestry nearly the size of the wall it hung on caught her interest, and she stepped further into the Great Hall to take a look at it.
The colors were muted, none of the powerful reds she had seen in other tapestries, but within the humble scheme of it all was the essence of what Leo had told her: this was a wise clan, a thoughtful clan.
These were not barbarians or brutes or madmen running off halfcocked.
The MacSweens understood how to control themselves, how to keep their feet on the ground.
Maybe I have underestimated the Laird. He might be more than a beautiful beast.
She leaned closer to take in the details of the art and noticed a pair of small boots sticking out from underneath the tapestry. She crouched down to inspect them and saw the diminutive wriggle of feet inside them.
Someone was hiding behind the woven cloth, someone doing their best not to be seen.
Leo said nothing, but when Beatrice looked back at him, she saw the tension in his face. This little hidden person was important to him and she guessed who it must be.
“Ye ken what I’ve heard about castles?” she said, rising back to her full height. “I heard ye can find all manner of magical creatures within their walls. Fairies and imps just tucked into wee corners and floating around us clumsy humans like they daenae mean to see us.”
A childish giggle sounded from behind the tapestry. Beatrice covered her hand with her mouth, barely containing a laugh herself.
“Effie,” Leo sighed, “ye ken that ye shouldnae be in here.”
The tapestry shifted and writhed as the child tiptoed out from behind it. First, her mop of red curls appeared, then her big eyes broke through. The girl smiled at Beatrice and gave a tiny shrug when she saw her father shake his head.
“Ye were hidden well back there,” Beatrice told her. “If nae for ye shoes, I wouldnae have spotted ye.”
“I came in from the kitchen passageway and kent I’d be in trouble if me father saw me in here,” the girl said, then bobbed an awkward curtsy like she was playing at being an adult princess welcoming strangers to a ball. “Me name is Effie.”
“And I’m Beatrice. I’m very glad to meet ye Effie.”
“Beatrice is a pretty name.”
“Aye, I like it,” Beatrice said, crouching down so she was at Effie’s eye level. “Ye can also call me Bea if ye’d like. Children often do.”
This time the laird did not object to the shortening of her name. Effie nodded, mouthing the full name, then laughing and softly repeating Bea. Her eyes darted back and forth between Leo and Beatrice. Beatrice could see her little mind working behind her bright eyes.
“Ye’re here to marry me father, aren’t ye?” Effie asked.
“Aye, this is her,” Leo answered before Beatrice could say anything.
“I didnae think ye’d be so pretty,” Effie admitted. “I’ll be happy to have a mother.”
Beatrice looked to Leo for guidance. He had not yet instructed her on exactly what role he wished her to play in his daughter’s life and she knew that it was risky to presume anything.
“Do ye like singing and dancing, Effie?” she asked the little girl and received an enthusiastic nod and pirouette in response.
“What about climbing trees?”
“I can climb higher trees than big boys and girls of ten,” Effie boasted.
“Although ye mustnae if I’m nae there to catch ye,” cautioned her father.
“What about playin' hide and seek?” Beatrice moved on quickly.
“I ken all the best places to hide. I’ll show ye if ye like?”
“Aye, I’d like that very much, Effie,” Beatrice laughed.
“I like ye, Bea,” Effie said with childish frankness. “I wouldnae mind if ye stayed with us forever.”
Again, Beatrice had to hesitate, carefully considering both the man and the child beside her before answering such a remark. She must be honest, fair and tactful.
“I like ye too, Effie,” she offered and saw Leo smile.
“Go on with ye now, Effie,” he said affectionately. “We have things to do.”
“I’m sure I’ll see ye later!” Beatrice called after the little girl as she set off running across the Great Hall.
Once Effie was out of earshot, she looked again to the laird.
“What would ye have me say when she asks if I am stayin' forever?” Beatrice put to him.
In response, he turned away sharply and stormed out into the hallway, leaving Beatrice none the wiser as to what mistake she could have made.