Looking at Enoch, she could see an idea growing in his eyes. Nothing good would come of it. His smile left her uneasy. She turned her back on him and quickened her pace. Thus far, their relationship was amiable. In their youth, he would pick on her, but it was nothing unusual for the boys in the community. It was his character, the stories he told, and the mercurial violence she sensed in him that frightened her.
Enoch walked up behind her. Unlike Declan, he caused her muscles to stiffen in anxiety. A dark, omniscient shadow loomed just outside her peripheral vision. Rosalie stood still as he reached over her shoulder and touched the gown she wore earlier.
“It’s only damp.” He pulled it from its place. “Change, an’ I willnae tell her.” Rosalie turned around. His eyes twinkled with lust and power, and his grin oozed mischief. “Go on, then.”
“It’s improper. Absolutely not.”
Enoch’s temper swept the lust from his eyes, leaving them black and cruel. This was a power play, and Rosalie could sense what was coming next. She had known him since childhood, and the last thing he tolerated was having his authority challenged, especially by a woman. He was not going to drop this.
“Don’t test me, or I’ll tell Magda another tale ‘bout how I found ye.” His mood seemed to change as quickly as the water flowing alongside them. He smiled at her, and his voice lulled in an attempt to convince her. “B’sides, it’s dark out. An’ it’s nothin’ I willnae see in a few month’s time.” But there was a cruel threat lurking in the undertones.
“You speak as if I’ve agreed to somethin’.” Rosalie looked to the edge of the woods. Part of her longed-for Declan to storm from the underbrush and save her once again—but then, if he found her and learned about Enoch, she’d be humiliated. The last thing she wanted was to taint his perception of her any further.
Enoch laughed and pulled at his riding gloves. “As if you have a choice. Ye think Magda will let you say no? Ye think Alexander would le’ some redheaded daughter o’ a harlot stay with us unwed and useless to the community? Turn down and humiliate his nephew—”
It stung to hear the words. She knew he was goading her, but it hurt all the same. She hated him more than ever at that moment. He walked toward her, pushing the dress out for her to grab.
Rosalie ripped it from him. She looked around for a way out. Her stomach churned, and her skin crawled. The smile, the mischief, faded from his eyes—now all that remained were endless dark pools, demanding obedience. The flames of the fire stretched out the shadows of his face, frightening her even more.
“Put it on, ‘fore I lose my patience, girl.”
“An’ what? What’re ye goin’ to do to me? Go on, tell Magda whatever ye want. I’m not changin’ in front of ye.”
Rosalie went to turn away, but her face lit up with heat and stopped her in shock. It took her a moment to understand. She touched her cheek where he’d backhanded her. Her eyes started to water, but she focused on everything she had to keep tears from falling in front of him.
“See wha’ you made me do? Ye need to learn to mind your tongue, Rosalie,” he reached out to touch her arm. She tore away. “Now, don’ be like that; jus’ get changed, an’ we can pretend none o’ this happened.” His smile made her sick.
Rosalie wanted to tell him what she thought of him. It took every ounce of self-discipline not to spit in his face and spew out the truth in spite. Her hands trembled, and she could taste the metallic tinge of blood on her lip. He would not drop this; she should have been a bit more clever instead of outright defying him. If this marriage went through… Rosalie touched her clavicle as her breath hitched. She would need her wits to survive.
“Turn around, at least,” she said. “Please?” she cringed, “have a li’l respect.”
“O’ course I’ll turn ‘round, Rosie. Wha’ kind o’ man do you think I am?” She doubted that was his original intention. There was nothing more she wanted than to strike his smirk into the dirt at that moment. “Yer actin’ foolish, crazy even. I’m jus’ lookin’ out for ye. Now go on, get changed.”
Enoch turned around. She didn’t trust him. This wasn’t the only time he’d made it seem like his intentions were innocuous, and she was the one acting unreasonable. It was one of his specialties. She stepped behind one of the shirts still hanging and turned her back to him.
“Jus’ like a woman to make a big deal outtae nothin’. Ye should know me by now; I’m a gentleman.” Rosalie scoffed at this and was grateful the river drowned her out. “I wouldnae make my future wife soil herself. Jus’ didn’t want ye gettin’ in trouble with Magda, is all. I wish ye wouldn’ push me like that. It pains me to have to discipline ye. You have to learn manners an’ respect if yer gonna make it in this world, Rosie. Ye know I’d never hurt ye.”
The tone of his voice made Rosalie wonder if he’d convinced himself his actions were for her benefit. The knot in her stomach tightened and twisted until she felt a lump rise in her throat. She could feel his gaze and knew he was looking. It felt as if bugs crawled over her skin. She hoped the hanging shirt covered her most intimate parts. Her body shuddered in disgust. She changed as fast as she could, grateful the cloth was not wet enough to entangle her like before.
Sure enough, when she turned, he was already facing her. Rosalie forced her lips to remain shut, her face hot with rage. She yanked the shirt down and stuffed it into the basket. With no way to carry water, Rosalie gathered rocks from the river and piled them over the small patch of embers to snuff out the fire.
Enoch grabbed her arm. She tore it away. “Don’t touch me!” She cried, a knee-jerk reaction.
“Wha’ the hell is wrong with you?”
She glowered at him, picked up her basket, and stormed towards camp. More than anything, she wished she could leave him behind, just run off and never come back. If not for Magda and Anna, she would disappear forever.
Enoch picked up his pace, thrashing through the woods. “Slow down, Rosalie.” He snatched at her arm. She about lost her grip on the basket.
His grip was painfully tight. “What’s yer problem?” He asked.
“I just want to get home.”
“Let me carry that.” He grabbed the basket. Rosalie kept a tight grip on it until he yanked it from her, sending her stumbling back.
They walked on in silence. Rosalie brooded the entire way, dreading a fight with Magda.
Her thoughts drifted to Declan. She replayed how they’d ended things, and feared what he thought of their parting—even if she knew nothing would amount between them.
The community was already feasting, dancing, and laughing when they entered the camp. Rosalie kept her head bent, trying to bite down on her anger and disdain towards Enoch.
Magda waited for them outside of the caravan. As soon as she saw Rosalie, she stormed up to her and grabbed her ear. Rosalie yelped at the slight pain.
“Where were you all day? I was worried sick!”
“I was oot doin’ the wash. Let go o’ me.” She pulled away.
“Thank ye, Enoch. It were sweet o’ you tae fin’ her.”
His smile was charming and kind, so unlike the character he showed Rosalie. “I was goin’ to ask if I can take Rosalie to the castle tomorrow. I figured she could hun’ out some work sewin’.”
Rosalie opened her mouth to protest, but Magda was quick to override her, “What a nice idea. She’d love tae go with you.”
Enoch’s grin was smug. He nodded to Magda, his gaze lingering on Rosalie. “Maybe leave yer temper behind tomorrow, eh?”
Magda shot a look at Rosalie that made her insides shrink back. The older woman’s nostrils flared, and her eyes bulged. Of course he would say something like that to punish her further.
“If ye don’ mind, I’d like a word wi’ me daughter,” Magda said.
Enoch gave a slight bow of the head. “Good nigh’.”
“Aye.” Magda’s eyes locked on Rosalie. She waited until Enoch joined his cronies by the fire before turning on the young tra
veler in hushed, harsh tones. “Wha’ did ye do, girl?”
“Nothin’, I swear.” Her mouth fell open.
“Aye, ye didn’ even finish the wash.”
Rosalie looked at the unfolded clothes piled in the basket and rolled her eyes without thinking. Magda grabbed her ear again. “Don’ test me, girl. I’ve abou’ lost ma patience with ye, I have. I swear ye want tae give me a heart attack.”
Rosalie gripped her head until the old woman released her. She didn’t say anything, just dumped the clothes out on a table under the outstretched tapestry, and started to fold them as fast as she could.
“Yer lucky tae have his attention. Ye want tae throw that all away? Huh?”
“I’m not going with him tomorrow.” Rosalie couldn’t look at her. She was too angry. Even if she told Magda the truth, she knew it would still come down to being her fault.
“Do ye hear yerself, girl? There are three men o’ age in this camp. One o’ which is sweet on Anna, an’ the other is younger than you… an’ willnae dare pursue ye, with Enoch, determined to see ye wed.”
Rosalie slumped over the clothes in dismay. There were only a few other choices beyond them—old men. Even they were a gamble, considering their adherence to tradition. Most people already felt prejudice towards her on account of her red hair and coming from outside. If they took her as a bride, it would be out of pity. If they didn’t, the last option was for another traveler, Romanichai, or Romani to fancy her—and even then, that meant leaving Magda.
“Firs’ ye storm off, an’ are gone all day, now this, an’—” Magda grabbed Rosalie’s arm. She tried to pull away, but it was already too late, “Are ye clothes wet?”
Rosalie wanted to cry. She loved her adopted mother and knew that in her old age, the woman depended on her in many ways she was too proud to admit. If Rosalie couldn’t make this work, Magda might not have anyone to care for her as she aged. Magda let out a terrible sigh and sat down on a stump. She rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. Rosalie hated making her feel this way and wished she could make both of them happy.
“This cannae go on. Yer too ol’ fer these games, Rosie. Yer goin’ tomorrow, an’ I dinnae want tae hear another word about it. He’s a good match, the best ye goin’ to find. Ye shouldn’t make ‘im angry. Do ye want tae leave me, child?”
“No!” Rosalie choked on the lump rising in her throat. She felt terrible. “I don’t love him, Magda.” She kept her voice low, afraid someone would hear.
“It doesn’t matter. Ye dinnae have tae love him. Ye jus’ have tae have his children and keep him complacent. That’s all. After all these years o’ carin’ fer ye, ye owe it tae me, child.” Magda pressed her hands together between her knees and stared off into the distance. “Tomorrow, ye’ll go with him, an’ whatever it is ye done today, ye’ll undo it an’ make ‘im happy. If ye love me at all, ye’ll do this for me an’ stop actin’ like a spoilt wee babby. It’s not all about ye, Rosie. Ye have to do yer duty for me an’ the community.”
Rosalie slammed the fabrics together. Her vision blurred as the tears burned her eyes. She needed to get out of there. Magda saw her face, and her anger ebbed back. She stood and pulled the girl into her.
“Now, now, chil’. I didnae love ma husband at first either,” she whispered as she stroked Rosalie’s hair.
Rosalie couldn’t hold back anymore. The emotions of the day flooded from her eyes as she cried into her mother’s shoulder.
“You’ll learn to love him, dear. He’s a handsome man, responsible, an’ upright.” Rosalie’s muscles tensed. They would accuse her of slander if she spoke out against him. “He’ll do ye right, Rosie; I promise ye, it’s no’ the end o’ the world. Now dry yer tears up. Go fer a walk right quick to calm yerself down, an’ then join the rest o’ them.”
Rosalie nodded and pulled back. She was about to turn around when she thought of something. “Magda?” she asked.
“Yes?” The old woman raised an eyebrow, eyeing Rosalie with suspicion at the sudden change in demeanor.
“Wha’d’ye ken abou’ my mother an’ family?”
Magda’s face flashed with surprise for a moment before her composure returned. She was silent as she thought, regarding Rosalie with pursed lips. Rosalie did not waver or back down.
“After all these years, why ask now, Rosie?”
Magda’s tone was calm and loving: her anger seemed to vanish. After seeing her reaction, Rosalie wanted to know more than ever. She didn’t wish to reveal the question’s origin, hoping that if anything, this would distract Magda from the current events.
“I was thinkin’ abou’ it today, is all. I realized we’ve ne’er talked about it. If I’m auld enough to be wed against my will, I think I am auld enough tae ken the truth abou’ my family.”
Magda sat down once more. She ran her hand over her graying hair. The look in her eyes told Rosalie she was worried. Rosalie knelt beside her, taking the old woman’s hands into her own, and waited for a response.
Chapter Four
“I’ll tell ye what,” Magda spoke after a long silence. “If ye can smooth this business o’er with Enoch, I’ll tell ye abou’ yer family.”
Then Magda looked Rosalie in the eyes. What she saw made her more curious than ever, but there was pain there, too. It was easy to see her mother needed time to answer this question.
Rosalie nodded in agreement. “Promise?” she asked.
Magda cradled the girl’s cheek. “Promise. I jus’ need some time tae sort out how tae tell ye, is all. An’ in the meantime, ye should search yer heart, girl, an’ decide if knowin’ is goin’ tae change anythin’ at all. Some things are best left a mystery.” Magda stood up, “I’m goin’ tae bed, an’ I suggest ye do the same.”
Wishing to avoid Enoch, Rosalie listened to Magda and retired to her tent. Throughout the night, she tossed in fevered dreams, her subconscious clearing a path.
The young traveler decided she would make Magda proud. She would do her duties, but it was like Magda said—there was no need to love Enoch. All she needed was to tolerate him.
The young woman’s heart turned to her mysterious savior and the promise to see him again. As long as she was never alone with Declan, there would be no harm in befriending him. If he kept their secret safe, as promised, and Anna glued to her side, she could still enjoy his smile in passing. The hope of learning the truth about her family fed her more strength than anything else. She could play the part if she put her mind to it.
The next morning, Rosalie wore her favorite dress. Magda nodded in approval of the bright green gown with gold-colored embroidered flowers. It disgusted her to think Enoch would have the same impression—that she’d worn the dress for him—but she was glad to see Magda happy. She thought of Declan when she adorned her hair with antique combs. Keeping the secret tucked in her heart gave her a sense of exhilaration and freedom.
“Yer in better spirits.”
Magda’s approval eased the dread Rosalie felt at having to spend the day with Enoch. She forced a smile. “Anna is comin’ with us.”
Magda nodded. “Remember yer duties.”
“Aye.” Rosalie nodded. It was difficult to forget.
Rosalie was grateful they took horses into town. The ride prevented her from having to fake polite conversation. She gathered her wits and strength about her like a warm blanket.
Thoughts of how to repel Enoch without losing the community’s good graces came to mind. If he didn’t want her, it would make the whole affair much easier. How to do so without invoking Magda’s scorn was another challenge. Her thoughts went back and forth between devious plots and reprimanding herself for selfishness.
Fog clung to the hillsides, veiling the horses’ hooves in foggy wool, while the clouds darkened in the distance, fighting over blue skies above the mountains. The crisp air helped clear her brain. No matter what happened, she would keep her composure. Even if Declan ran up to her, insisting on her attention, she would pretend she did not know
him. It was the only way to keep herself safe.
Rosalie slowed her mare to a walk, inching past Declan’s farm. She wanted him to see her now and redeem herself from the night before. It made her cringe to think they’d met with her curls wet and frizzy. The young woman pretended to scan the landscape.
Anna turned around, noticing Rosalie fall behind, and pulled her steed into a matched trot. “What’re ye lookin’ for?” Anna grinned, her eyes wide and merry. “Ye wouldn’t be lookin’ fer that man from yesterday, would ye?”
Rosalie snapped her gaze ahead. Enoch was too far away to hear Anna, utterly oblivious to them falling behind. It was only a jest, but it made Rosalie’s heart seize, “What d'ye mean, from yesterday? I didnae meet no one yesterday.” In her panic, she’d forgotten about them passing Declan and the old man on their way to camp.
Highlander’s Gypsy Lass (Highlander's 0f Clan Macgregor Book 1) Page 3
