Highland Engagement

by Dana D'Angelo

  “We’ll behave.” The children said eagerly and ran off.

  “I think ye were too hard on the bairns, Maggie,” Anabell said.

  “And I think ye were nae hard enough,” she scoffed.

  Chapter 11

  After they departed from the broken-down house, Anabell saw more and more ugliness around her. Her grandmother had never spoken about the poverty in town, and she wondered whether Lady Beitris was even aware of the problem. Once Anabell returned to the castle, she was determined to speak to her grandmother about the issue. Something needed to be done.

  “We should leave this place,” Maggie reminded her.

  They retraced their steps and found their way back to the main road.

  “Are ye going tae the market?” Anabell asked Blane since he walked beside her. She needed to find a topic that would distract her from her surroundings. The day had started out so well, but the things she witnessed recently had depressed her, and she didn’t want the feeling to linger over her.

  “Nay, I’ve nay plans tae visit there, although my men want me tae join them at the tavern,” he shrugged.

  “We’re heading in that direction. Our horses are waiting at the inn,” Anabell said.

  “Guid, I’ll accompany ye.”

  “We can take this way back,” Maggie said.

  They took the shortcut the nursemaid suggested. When they approached the central part of the town, she appeared as if she was searching for someone. Naturally, she encountered people she knew and stopped to chat and introduce them to Anabell. But when the interactions finished, Maggie seemed distracted again.

  Because they ran into so many of Maggie’s acquaintances, their progress to the inn was a bit slower, but Anabell didn’t mind. She enjoyed meeting Maggie’s friends. The nursemaid had grown up in Dunburn and had left to work at Balisle Castle, Anabell’s ancestral home. And clearly, she was happy to be back.

  But when Maggie saw yet another old friend, Anabell decided to remain with Blane. While he didn’t show it, she sensed that he was slightly bored. It was then that she chose to recount her adventures in town. He didn’t say much, although he appeared interested in her stories.

  When Maggie finally joined them a few moments later, her demeanor seemed subdued. Anabell was puzzled by her mood, but then she remembered the nursemaid desired to find her lover.

  “Are ye searching for Oswyn, Maggie?” she asked casually.

  Her question gave the older woman a start. “He lives in this area,” she said, flushing. “I believe —”

  Suddenly, her denial got cut off, and her gaze flew past Anabell.

  “I think ‘tis him,” she breathed.

  Anabell followed her line of sight and caught sight of a lanky older man, a dog, and a packhorse heading in their direction. She could tell that in his youth, the man was once a brawny lad. As he walked, he whistled a jaunty tune. But the song died on his lips as he halted his horse in the middle of the street.

  A confused expression clouded his angular face. He shoved his fingers through his graying hair and appeared undecided whether his eyes deceived him. “Is that ye, Maggie?” he asked cautiously.

  “Aye,” she said.

  But the couple stared at each other as if they were shy youngsters, each afraid to make the first move.

  “What are ye waiting for?” Anabell asked, giving her friend a nudge. “Go speak with him.”

  At her prompting, Maggie stepped forward as if she were still caught in a dream.

  When Oswyn saw her coming toward him, the spell between them broke. He let out a whoop and ran to her.

  “’Tis really ye!” He wrapped her in his arms and lifted her in the air. “I thought I’d never see ye again, lass!”

  The dog began to bark, adding its voice to the jubilant scene.

  Oswyn laughingly set Maggie back on the ground. And for several minutes, they held hands, trying to catch up with each other.

  Anabell stood beside Blane, beaming at the happy couple. The old flames were united once again. This was the moment that Maggie longed for, and Anabell was glad for her friend.

  The dog noticed Blane and suddenly raced over to him.

  “Does this hound ken ye?” she asked, astonished.

  Its tongue hung to the side, and its tail began to wag while it let out a cheerful bark.

  “Nay.” Blane laughed and ruffled its head. This encouraged the hound even more, and its tail began to wag harder. He crouched and began to wrestle with the energetic hound as if they were long-lost friends. Her heart warmed as she saw that Blane, the hardened mercenary, was behaving like a joyful lad.

  The barking dog caused Maggie and her friend to remember where they were. The couple approached them. “This is Oswyn,” she said.

  “How do ye do?” the man said nervously.

  “Maggie has told me much about ye,” Anabell said.

  “She has?” Oswyn asked, his face brightening.

  Maggie reluctantly pulled away from her sweetheart. “We have tae leave now,” she said. “Hopefully, we can meet again soon.”

  “Do ye really need tae go, lass?” Oswyn asked, his face falling. “It has been years since I’ve seen ye.”

  “We’ve been here all morning and need tae get back tae the castle.”

  “Och,” he said. “In that case, ye should go.”

  But even as he said this, he didn’t want to release her hand. And Maggie didn’t appear as if she wanted to let go either.

  Anabell started to tell the nursemaid to stay in town while she returned to the castle on her own. But before she could speak, the disappointed look lifted from Oswyn’s face, and he turned to them.

  “Why dinnae ye come tae my house?” he said. “All of ye should come over. I live close by, and my family would love tae have ye visit.”

  “I’m nae certain this is a guid idea,” Maggie said, her expression torn.

  Anabell knew Maggie had sacrificed so much in raising her. If she allowed it, her companion would pass up on a chance for happiness.

  “Of course, we’ll visit,” Anabell said before her nursemaid could make another excuse.

  For a moment, Maggie looked shocked, and she turned to Anabell as if she questioned her own hearing. But her surprise quickly turned to delight when Oswyn took her hand and clasped it tightly to his chest.

  “Will ye be coming with us too, Blane?” Anabell asked. They were fine to go alone, but she felt more comfortable if he came along.

  Blane took in the other man’s measure just as the hound sat at his foot. He gave the dog a friendly pat and made his decision.

  “Aye, I’ll come,” he said.

  “Then ‘tis settled,” Oswyn said heartily. “Follow me,”

  Maggie’s friend led them down a side street and moved into a neighborhood that was slightly better than the one they had just left. The homes were well-constructed and built slightly apart from one another. From what Anabell knew, this section housed the laborers.

  They walked down the narrow street, and she caught a few people staring at them. Clearly, they didn’t belong in this neighborhood.

  As they got closer to one of the dwellings, the hound released a bark and ran toward the thatched house.

  “Ma, we have visitors!” Oswyn called.

  An elderly woman peered out from the opened door. When her eyes fell on Anabell, she let out an audible gasp.

  “Och! ‘Tis Lady Beitris’s granddaughter and the mercenary. Why dinnae ye tell me earlier that ye were bringing visitors?” she demanded.

  “’Twas a chance meeting,” Maggie explained.

  Upon hearing the nursemaid speak, she turned her head and squinted at Maggie. “I remember that voice,” she said aloud.

  “’Tis Maggie, Ma,” Oswyn said. He placed an arm around the nursemaid’s shoulders, drawing her close to him. “She’s returned tae us.”

  “Maggie?” the elderly woman repeated. When it finally registered who was at her doorstep, Oswyn’s mother rushed out and wrappe
d the nursemaid into a warm hug. “I thought I’d never see ye again, lass.”

  “That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” Maggie said, amusement in her tone.

  The woman turned to her son. “Oswyn, quick. Bring your Aunt Ceana and her family here.”

  “I’ll be back soon,” Oswyn promised. He let out a low whistle, and his dog came to his side.

  “Well,” their hostess said loudly. “Come in, come in.”

  From the smoke-filled room, it appeared as if the old widow was in the middle of cooking supper. The smell of delicious rabbit stew wafted in the enclosed space. She ushered them into her house and sat them at the common table. Almost immediately, she began to fuss over them, offering them ale. As they waited for Oswyn to return, the woman chatted pleasantly about the local gossip around town.

  Ten minutes later, a boisterous group burst through the door. There were shouts of greetings and hugs. A man and woman entered carrying large containers of food. Their young daughter, a fresh-faced lass with wide blue eyes, followed right behind them, holding a basket of bread.

  The hound rushed inside, accompanied by three small bairns. The dog suddenly broke from the children and headed straight to Blane. It let out a bark as if inviting the mercenary to play.

  “This is more of my family,” Oswyn said, and quickly introduced his aunt, her husband, and their offspring.

  The merry group appeared close. And Maggie spoke animatedly with them as if she were a part of their colorful family. Blane also seemed to fit in since everyone in the room readily accepted him. Anabell grinned at seeing the Highlander’s playful side. He hoisted a young lad on his back and began to prance around the common room. Then to make things fair, he allowed the other bairns to have a turn. Meanwhile, the dog chased after them, barking with excitement.

  Things settled down when supper was served. Everyone helped themselves to the combined food, and the conversation and ale flowed easily among the guests.

  “We need tae liven things up with some music,” Oswyn’s uncle said, grabbing a lute that hung on the wall.

  At seeing the instrument, Blane’s interest peaked. Any type of entertainment was cherished, and no one would pass up on an opportunity like this. Anabell especially loved to listen to beautiful music. But when the man began to play, the sounds coming from the lute were grating and unpleasant.

  The man’s children groaned. “Put that away,” one of them said.

  “May I?” Blane asked.

  “Fine, play the instrument for this ungrateful family of mine,” the disgruntled man said.

  Blane took the lute. And as he cradled it against his body, his slender fingers strummed across the cords. His confidence with the lute was clear, and everyone in the room gave him their attention.

  And they weren’t disappointed. Gradually, the soft angelic sounds rose from the instrument, becoming louder. Then when Blane began to sing, his deep voice wove into the pretty lyrics. Anabell was shocked by the arresting and haunting melody, and she, like everyone else, was enraptured by the music. All too soon, the ballad was finished, and the room erupted with shouts and cheers.

  “Play another song,” one of the bairns urged.

  “Do ye ken the one about the crow and the dead man?” the other one asked.

  “Nay,” Blane said, smiling apologetically. “Unfortunately, I dinnae ken that one.”

  The bairns were crestfallen over his confession, but their disappointment didn’t last long. They persuaded the mercenary to play a game of chase, and he indulged them. Around these people, Blane seemed relaxed and comfortable. He was nothing like the stoic and severe mercenary that had escorted her to Dunburn. And from what she was now understanding, there was more to him than she realized.

  “Would ye like more drink?” the lass asked Anabell as she came over with a pitcher of ale.

  “Aye, thank ye.”

  “Ye have a fine husband,” she said, throwing an admiring glance at Blane. “I wish I had someone like him.”

  “People seem tae think Blane is my husband, but he isnae,” Anabell said, letting out an embarrassed laugh.

  “Ye mean he’s unmarried?” she asked, her eyes lighting up with hope.

  “I believe sae,” she said. “I dinnae ken much about him except that he leads a mercenary group.”

  The girl listened to her with heightened interest. “Do ye mind if I speak with him? None of the lads in Dunburn are as interesting. Perhaps he might consider me for a wife,” she said. “Our house is too crowded, and now that I’m sixteen years auld, I want a place of my own.”

  “That’s understandable,” Anabell said, smiling tightly. “Go ahead and speak with him. I dinnae care.”

  “Thank ye, I will,” she said and left without pouring Anabell a drink.

  The lass went to Blane and shooed away her siblings. When she was alone with him, she flirted and refilled his cup often.

  Anabell should have looked away, but she caught the agreeable smile he sent to the lass. Unfortunately, that smile directed to the other woman felt like a knife cutting into Anabell’s heart. She tried hard to convince herself that there was no reason for her jealousy. She had no claim over him.

  But as Blane and Oswyn’s niece continued to converse, Anabell couldn’t shake the ugly feeling away. In the end, she couldn’t blame the lass for wanting Blane for a husband. There was no denying that he was a handsome man. And even if she didn’t want to acknowledge it, she was well aware that other women admired him.

  When the meal was finished, the table was cleared, and the scraps tossed to the pigs. The men moved the common table aside, and Oswyn was urged to tell a story. Blane, the uncle, and the two elderly women occupied the bench while the rest found places among the rushes. Assessing the seating arrangement, the young lass settled herself near Blane’s feet.

  The uncle threw dry peat into the blaze, allowing the flames to grow and lighten the common room. The fire flickered as Oswyn wove a story from long ago.

  The lass looked up at Blane, and they exchanged smiles once again. Anabell couldn’t bear to see their happiness, and she turned away. She needed to forget about them and pay attention to the story. If she didn’t, she risked losing control of her emotions and her self-respect.

  Chapter 12

  Anabell looked up when Lady Beitris stood from her position at the head table. Her grandmother caught her eye and smiled warmly at her.

  “I have an announcement tae make,” the Lady said as the hall became quiet. “As ye ken, my granddaughter is verra special tae me. The upcoming celebration is tae be a holiday and will be held in town. Everyone is welcome tae join us as we celebrate her return.”

  Anabell’s heart swelled at hearing the love in her grandmother’s voice. She wasn’t surprised at the announcement since she already knew about the change in plans. Apparently, a celebration of this magnitude took weeks to arrange, but her grandmother wanted it done within the following week.

  Because Lady Beitris was a determined woman, the castle inhabitants were immediately put to work. And from the time of the declaration, the castle and town became a whirlwind of activity. Animals were slaughtered, the menu was set, and the entertainment was scheduled.

  The week passed quickly, and the day of the feast arrived. With Lady Beitris’s firm instructions to head to town in the morning, Anabell and Maggie joined the rest of the castle crew. When they reached the town’s core, they discovered that a crowd of people had already gathered there.

  “What an amazing sight,” Anabell said.

  The entire community had banded together in her honor. And it appeared that Lady Beitris had spared no expense. At this early hour, the revelers were in good cheer. And even though it was a holiday, some merchants still chose to hawk their wares. Their cries mixed with the excited shrieks of the bairns who ran around in the street, playfully chasing each other.

  The servants had completed most of the work days in advance, but there were more preparations to be had. Four youths shuttle
d between the well and the cooking stations. Iaan worked at a clay oven with several assistants where they sent the smell of fresh bread into the air. And not far off, two townsmen were positioned at the pit. One man turned the spit while the other man basted the meat. Every so often, the wind shifted, and she smelled the delicious scent of the roasting pig.

  “Look,” Maggie exclaimed. “The steward has put the mercenaries tae work.”

  Anabell watched the men with undisguised awe. After she had persuaded Blane and his friends to stay, they often visited the local inn. Surprisingly, the mercenaries blended in well with the townspeople. Seeing them now, she would never have believed that they arrived in town only a week ago.

  A couple of the warriors walked past them, carrying a large plank across the square. Blane worked in another area trying to assemble the base of a trestle table that would hold many of tonight’s dishes. Then at a cooking station nearby, two other mercenaries huddled around a firepit as a woman instructed them on what she needed.

  “Let’s go and ask whether anyone needs help,” Anabell said.

  After twenty minutes of walking around to the various sites, everyone they approached declined their assistance.

  “Maybe the steward can find work for us,” Anabell suggested.

  “I see him over there,” Maggie pointing at the far end of the town square. “He seems quite busy.”

  “Then he’ll be grateful for our help.”

  They started toward the man when Oswyn spotted them and waved. As usual, Maggie’s face lit up.

  “Why dinnae ye go see him?” Anabell suggested.

  “I need tae stay with ye,” Maggie said, her smile fading.

  “Of course, nae,” she said. “Ye go see Oswyn, and I’ll speak with the steward myself.”

  Maggie still looked hesitant to leave her, although it was clear that she wanted to be with her beau.

  “Do as ye are told and go,” Anabell said, mimicking her nursemaid’s stern tone.

  Maggie laughed. She finally relented and joined Oswyn. As the nursemaid smiled at him, the years fell from her face. Her lover wasn’t immune to Maggie’s charms either. In fact, he seemed just as mesmerized by her.