Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Asmall hand appeared first.
Sorcha nearly jumped as the tiny fingers curled against the stone floor. Then a head of dark curls followed, slowly emerging from beneath the bed.
She did not move, could not move, bracing herself against the tub. What she saw almost made her collapse in relief.
A child?
The girl wriggled the rest of the way out from under the bed, clutching something tightly to her chest. She could not have been more than five or six years old. Her green dress was wrinkled from hiding, her small bare feet pressed against the floor.
What in God’s name—
Sorcha realized the girl was holding a small turtle. Its small head poked out for a moment before pushing back into its shell. The girl studied her carefully, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then she lifted her chin slightly.
“I’m Lady Elspeth,” she announced, as though stating something very important.
Sorcha could only stare, her thoughts struggling to catch up. Before she could gather a proper answer, the girl tilted her head, speaking again.
“Are ye me new maither?”
Maither?
Sorcha’s mind stumbled over the question. She pushed off the tub and walked over to Elspeth.
“Nice to meet ye, Lady Elspeth. I’m Sorcha.” She crouched down so they were closer in height, speaking in a gentle tone.
The girl felt familiar, with her long dark waves and grey eyes.
“What do ye mean, yer new maither?”
“Morag said ye were comin’,” Elspeth said matter-of-factly. “The new lady of the keep. Before, there was another one. Me ma.”
Sorcha’s breath caught as her mind tried to make sense of the girl’s words.
She does look like Rowan, but Callan didnae tell me Rowan was married before. Nay one did.
“Are ye?” Elspeth asked again, pulling her back to the present.
Sorcha bit her lip, unsure of the right thing to say. Elspeth watched her patiently, leaning slightly forward with her turtle.
“I think that may take a wee bit of time… and only if ye wish for it.”
Elspeth frowned, seemingly confused by the answer. “But ye married me da,” she pointed out.
Sorcha froze.
Da. So, it is true. Elspeth is Rowan’s daughter.
Sorcha stared into Elspeth’s eyes, the hope in them that she seemed to be trying very hard to hide. Her heart softened.
She slowly reached out to Elspeth. “Well, perhaps we can start with being friends.”
Elspeth studied her hand for a long moment. Then she raised hers and took it. “That could work,” she said thoughtfully.
Sorcha smiled, nodding toward the turtle. “And who might yer friend be?”
Elspeth brightened instantly. “This is Mr. Turtle,” she said proudly, holding him out to Sorcha.
Mr. Turtle did not come out, his beady eyes watching her from inside his shell.
“Well then,” Sorcha said, patting his shell lightly. “It’s very nice to meet ye, Mr. Turtle.”
Elspeth giggled, clearly pleased with the introduction.
“Does yer da ken ye’re here?” Sorcha asked.
Elspeth’s giggles stopped immediately, and she looked down at the floor. “Nay.”
“Does anyone ken ye’re here?”
“Nay.”
Sorcha hesitated, considering sending the girl back to her room. But the thought of Elspeth wandering the keep by herself did not sit well with her.
“Lady Elspeth,” she said teasingly, standing up straight. “Perhaps we should see ye back to yer chambers before anyone notices ye’ve escaped.”
She walked to the door, Elspeth giggling after her. She expected the girl to simply follow. Instead, Elspeth slipped her small hand into hers.
Sorcha paused. Elspeth’s fingers curled confidently around hers, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
That simple act of trust tugged unexpectedly at her heart.
She barely kens me, and yet she trusts me already.
Elspeth swung their joined hands as she stepped closer. “Morag says I’m nae supposed to wander alone,” she admitted.
Sorcha laughed. “Aye, I imagine she does.” She gave Elspeth’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We’ll make sure ye find yer way back before she notices.”
They had barely taken a few steps when the door suddenly opened.
Morag stepped inside, her eyes landing on their joined hands at once. She exhaled slowly.
“Here ye are,” she said, folding her arms. “I’ve been all over the keep, lookin’ for ye!”
Elspeth smiled guiltily at her. “I was only sayin’ hello.”
Morag shook her head, looking at Sorcha. “Me Lady, this is Lady Elspeth MacLaren, the Laird’s daughter.”
“I already introduced meself,” Elspeth declared proudly.
Morag huffed a small laugh, turning back to her. “Aye, I’m sure ye did. Come along now, wee one.”
Sorcha felt Elspeth hesitate before releasing her hand.
Morag stepped close to Sorcha, lowering her voice to a whisper. “She’s been waitin’ for this moment. Her ma died bringin’ her into this world. Poor thing has been alone for far too long.”
Sorcha looked at Elspeth, who was waiting for Morag by the door, her grey eyes narrowed suspiciously at them.
“I’ve never seen her so determined,” Morag added. She straightened, before walking to Elspeth and taking her hand. “Good evenin’, me Lady.”
Elspeth looked back once before stepping out into the hall. “Good evenin’, Lady Sorcha.”
The door closed softly behind them, leaving Sorcha to her thoughts.
Rowan has a daughter.
It was a hard thing to accept. Of course, she had heard the stories about Rowan, and now even experienced some of those rumors firsthand. But she would never have expected that he was raising a daughter on his own.
Yet there she had been, hiding under her bed.
The ghost of Elspeth’s small fingers lingered on her palm, the warmth of the brief trust surprising her still.
Such a sweet child.
Her chest tightened as she remembered what Morag had said about Elspeth’s mother. She wondered what sort of life the girl had been living. What sort of life Rowan had.
She smiled at the thought of Elspeth hiding under her bed, waiting patiently.
I think she may be the only one in this keep happy to have me here.
The warmth of the bath drew her attention back at last. She looked herself over again, mortified by her state. She realized Elspeth had not batted an eye at her appearance, the only one not to.
After slipping out of her dress, she carefully lowered herself into the steaming water. The heat soaked quickly into her aching muscles, drawing a long breath from her chest. She leaned back against the rim of the tub, closing her eyes to enjoy the quiet.
But her thoughts drifted back to Rowan.
He had barely spoken to her since the wedding, except to scold her. Or command her. Or threaten to tie her to his side like an unruly horse.
Her mouth twitched despite herself.
Charmin’ man.
But then she thought of his smile that vanished as soon as he looked at her.
She found herself wanting to understand him more. Because somewhere beneath that stony facade was the man who had raised a lonely little girl on his own.
Though the bath soothed the aches in her body, it did little to soothe her restless mind. Too much had happened in a single day.
She rose from the bath, reaching for the linen left beside the tub.
Flora would ken what to say. I hope she arrives soon.
Her mind flashed to the ambush.
And safely.
She dressed slowly, glancing toward the door.
Perhaps a short walk would ease me nerves.