Chapter 3 #3
Bitterness oozed from her as her voice trailed off, letting the things go unsaid.
Had she not been so headstrong at the time, if she would have only accepted one of the marriage offers, then she would still be safe in London instead of there at Black Keep.
Looking to the maid, she saw the dismay and felt herself wince a little.
She hadn’t meant to cause such a reaction to the kind woman, but it was just…
difficult. Hannah’s entire world was tinted with anger and bitterness at the moment, and she was starting to think that her time in the dungeon had even robbed her of the ability to handle small talk.
It was safe to assume the maid had wanted to hear about the glitzy parties in a far-off land where everyone was dressed like princesses and danced with charming men.
“It wasn’t all bad,” Hannah corrected. “The parties themselves were quite lovely. Lots of wine and tasty food. And the music is enough to make me swoon thinking about it.”
And it really was, the music had always been her favorite part of the balls.
The bright sound of the violin, the soothing notes of a harpsichord, and the darling tweet of a flute.
She sighed dreamily, wishing she could hear it again.
Hannah shot Elspeth a shy look, “And the dresses might have been heavy, but they were quite beautiful. Lots of colors and styles. Everyone seemed to have something unique about theirs. You could spend the whole evening just talking about gowns if you wanted. If you managed to avoid the men that is.”
The maid giggled and for the first time since being at the Keep, Hannah felt herself smile.
It was weak and faint, but she certainly felt the tug of the corner of her lips as they went upward.
Perhaps she wasn’t a lost cause after all, though, it would take more than a single conversation with a maid to prove that.
And then, Elspeth was done with the unpacking.
A little flare of panic rose in Hannah’s throat.
She honestly didn’t want Elspeth to leave, though she assumed she had better things to do.
Still, she wanted to buy just a little more time and perhaps even get some information out of her about this new man.
“Wait,” Hannah said, going to the wardrobe. She picked out a dress with a light blue and green tartan bodice and arisaid. “I… quite like this dress. And it seems warm to wear. It might be better than this one the downstairs maids put me in. Would you mind helping me change?”
The maid brightened and gave a small bow of her head. “Of course, m’lady.”
Helping her from the dress she was wearing, Elspeth’s hands were gentle and skilled. The maids downstairs had been as well, but she supposed she was already growing fond of this maid and her affection for the English that made Hannah feel just a little at home.
And then she heard it, the gasp that escaped Elspeth once the dress Hannah was wearing was stripped away.
The warmth that had radiated from her was momentarily diminished, and Hannah could feel the pity coming off her as she saw her wounds.
The healer had dressed all the actively healing wounds, but her body was a mosaic of old cuts and scrapes and burns.
Without a dress on, Hannah wasn’t a Lady, she was a victim in the flesh.
But the word victim tasted sour in her mouth.
Neither of the women said anything as Elspeth resumed her task, and Hannah never averted her gaze with shame or blushed in embarrassment. She held her chin high and her face was neutral. All that her body showed her these days was that she could survive and that was enough for her.
After she was done dressing, Elspeth urged her to sit at the little desk so that she could redo her hair.
“Yer blonde hair is much too nice to be done in a simple braid,” Elspeth said matter-of-factly.
She began combing Hannah’s hair and Hannah found herself sighing, relaxing further.
It felt nice to have someone playing with her hair again.
“I should tell ye, the Laird has invited ye to supper this evening. Still a while to go, but I thought ye would like to ken.”
When Hannah sucked in a sharp breath, Elspeth gave her shoulders a kind squeeze.
“I ken ye’ve been through a lot. But… that was with the old Laird.
Laird Magnus Black is truly a kind man. He’s always been sweet.
Even as a young boy, and still the same today.
Perhaps a little rougher around the edges because of all the fighting he’s had to do…
” She sighed. “But while it’ll be difficult, I do hope ye find it in yer heart to give the new Laird a chance during yer stay.
He’s loved by all. Especially the ladies. ”
With a huff, Hannah tried to brush off the maid’s comments, but her thoughts kept going back to him.
Magnus Black, the man who had opened her cell.
Well, she wasn’t sure about just how kind he truly was—but she supposed she could see why he was popular with the ladies.
He was unnervingly handsome, though extremely annoying.