He cleared his throat. “Lass, we eat three times a day here.”
“One will be fair enough m’laird, fer I would nae want to be beholden to ye fer more.”
A rather strange expression fell over his face, as if he were struggling with something. “I think I shall see to furnishings now. Will ye be all right here for a time?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “Aye, I will.”
He gave a nod and slight bow before quitting the room.
There was not a doubt in his mind who Onnleigh truly was. He might not have known everything about her, but he was certain she was the babe’s mother. The moment he stepped into the doorway and watched from the shadows, he was quickly able to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
To begin with, on the first afternoon when he discovered the babe, Braigh had come to his study. That was when his brother saw the child for the first time. When he saw the little tufts of red hair, he declared, “I think I ken who she might belong to.”
He went on to explain to Connor and Ronald what he had witnessed at the wishing well. “She was a right pretty girl, with auburn hair. That basket,” he said with a nod toward where it sat on Connor’s desk, “was at her feet.”
“Do ye ken who she be?” Connor had asked.
“Nay, but there was somethin’ familiar about her. I do ken she is not someone we see here often. I dunnae ken her name, just that she be familiar.”
Deciding it best to keep things quiet for a time, he sent his brothers out again to see what they could learn about the fiery red-haired lass. As of that very morning, they were no closer to learning who she truly was.
Secondly, he watched from the shadows as she fed the babe at her own breast.
When she’d introduced herself, it took a moment for recollection to set in. Grueber… the name was familiar. Why did he know that name? He hadn’t heard it recently, of that he was certain. Tossing the name around his mind once more, recognition set in. Grueber MacCallen. A drunkard and thief who would steal the nails out of a wall if he thought he could make any money from it.
A quick glance at the clothes she wore—an old brown tunic over a coarse green skirt with many patches, hanging loosely on a small frame that had not seen good food in some time—told much. She had not been well cared for in her life, the knowledge made him angry.
And then, when she declared that all her worldly possessions were in that small bundle? Aye, as poor as dirt she was. But no amount of poverty could take away from her beauty. He had not been attracted to another woman since his sweet Maire. But this wee lass, with her auburn locks and bright blue eyes and smile that lit the room like the midday sun? She stirred something deep within him, something that had been dormant and quiet for far too long.
Why could he not remember seeing her within the walls or in the village outside the keep? Not wanting to embarrass her, he decided to not ask that burning question. Nay, he’d find out what he needed to know through other methods.
So he left her in the small room off his bedchamber and immediately went in pursuit of his brothers. He’d assign Ronald to keep a close eye on her. Not because he didn’t trust her, but because he worried she would take the babe and leave. From the dark circles under her eyes and how scrawny she appeared, he did not think she’d last long on her own.
Chapter 4
Ronald was easy enough to find. He was in the gathering room eating while pretending not to be interested in Bridgett. With a roll of his eyes, Connor pulled his youngest brother away from the table, gave him a quick summation of what was happening and asked him to watch the girl closely.
“Ye really think she be the babe’s mum?” Ronald asked as he took a healthy bite from the roasted chicken leg he held in his hand. How anyone could eat as much as Ronald did and remain as thin as he did, was a mystery to Connor.
“Aye, I do. But I want ye to keep that to yerself. Ye tell no one.”
He nodded as he chewed. “I’ll tell no one, ye have me word.”
Connor thanked him. “Have ye seen Braigh?”
Ronald grinned mischievously. “He be above stairs with his wife. Ye might want to give him about a half an hour.”
Connor shook his head and rested his hands on his hips. “I swear he will kill himself if he does nae stay away from her for at least a day.”
Ronald laughed heartily. “I think he’d argue he’d die if he did.”
Connor left Ronald to go in search of men to bring a bed, trunk, and other things from the storage room in the north tower. Standing in the shadows near the kitchens, he found Bridgett, who was pretending not to be interested in Ronald.
“Bridgett, I have a favor to ask ye.”
She was easily startled, this one. She jumped, squealed in fright, before grabbing her chest with her hands. “Connor! Ye nearly scared me out of me skin!”
If ye hadn’t been so focused on me brother… “I be sorry, lass.”
Taking her by the elbow gently, he drew her out of the shadows. The petite, pretty girl with light brown hair and hazel eyes had been in love with his brother for years. She simply hadn’t gotten up the courage to tell him yet, or anyone else. But everyone in the keep knew how she felt, for there was no mistaking it. At each meal, she saved the best cuts of meat, the warmest slice of bread, the freshest fruits for Ronald. She had a distinct look of awe and longing whenever she glanced his way. Hopefully, they’d both get up the courage to admit how they felt before they died of auld age.
“What is it ye need?” she asked as she tried to catch her breath.
“I have found someone to care for me daughter,” he informed her. “She be above stairs with her now. Could ye help settle her in? See that she has everythin’ she needs?”
“Och! I be so glad ye found someone,” she smiled up at him. “Of course I shall help. Who is she?”
“Her name be Onnleigh.”
Bridgett repeated the name a few times, searching for some memory. After a few moments, her eyes grew wide. “Nae Grueber’s daughter?”
Connor nodded. “I ken he was a drunkard but I dunnae believe Onnleigh to be anything like him.”
Lowering her voice, she motioned for Connor to draw nearer. “Grueber is more than a drunkard, he be a thief as well,” she explained. “Do ye remember the time yer da caught him tryin’ to steel a sheep?”
Connor searched his mind for some memory but could not find it.
“I was just a little girl then, but I remember it. Yer da caught him red-handed. Grueber lied his way out of it by sayin’ the sheep had escaped and he was only tryin’ to return it. He was famous for findin’ things people had lost. Why yer da put up with him, I dunnae ken.” She shook her head in disgust. “I’ve nae seen Onnleigh in at least ten years, mayhap more. We used to hold our pouches close when we saw Grueber comin’. I have nae seen him in at least a year.”
Aye, Grueber’s reputation was well known. While instinct warned him he should not trust Onnleigh completely. Still, he wondered if the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Was the daughter as big a thief as her father? But why should that be true? He dismissed the thought from his mind.
“Ye’ll need nae worry about Grueber. He passed away last winter.”
“I wish I could say I was sorry to hear it,” she admitted.
“What of Onnleigh? What do ye ken of her?”
“I fear I dunnae ken her well at all. As I said, I have nae seen her in at least ten years. I do remember her bein’ so quiet as a child. Her mum died when we were verra young. After that, she did nae visit verra often.”
Ten years was an awfully long time to stay away from the keep and the village. Connor wondered if by chance she had stayed away out of shame. And who had fathered her babe? The more questions he asked, the more questions he found.
“Thank ye, Bridgett.”
“Ye be welcome. Would ye like me to go to her now?”
He gave a nod of affirmation. “I would, thank ye.”
They parted ways: Bridgett off to
help Onnleigh and he to see if Braigh was done with his wife yet.
While the men brought in the furniture, Onnleigh did her best to stay out of their way. Finding a spot in the corner of Connor’s room, she held Nola close. She had three days of being away from her daughter to make up for. As the men were busy setting up the bed, Bridgett entered the room. With a bright smile, she went to Onnleigh and introduced herself.
“I be Bridgett ingen Comnal,” she said. “Connor tells me ye will be takin’ care of his babe.”
Unaccustomed to people being polite to her, Onnleigh simply smiled and gave a short nod. She had no recollection of having met the young woman before, certain that had they met in the past, Bridgett wouldn’t be behaving so politely.
“I was takin’ care of the wee babe until this morn,” Bridgett told her. “But I had to get back to me sewin’. She is a bonny babe, aye?”
“Aye,” Onnleigh answered, her voice nothing more than an unsteady whisper.
“Ye be Onnleigh ingen Grueber, aye?” Bridgett asked, taking her attention away from the babe for only a brief moment.
“Aye.”
“I have nae seen ye in years. Why have ye stayed away so long?”
Her tone was not accusatory or harsh. ’Twas nothing more than a question born out of curiosity. Apparently Bridgett had little memory of how Onnleigh had been treated the last time she was at the keep. “I was busy takin’ care o’ me da.”
Bridgett studied her closely for a time. “I be glad ye’re here, Onnleigh. I hope we can become good friends.”
Tears welled and there was nothing to be done for it. In the whole of her life, Onnleigh could not ever remember having a friend. “I would like that verra much.”
“’Twill be time for the noonin’ meal soon,” Bridgett said. “Would ye like to sit with me?”
Not quite ready yet to be reintroduced to the clan that had ostracized her years ago, she politely declined. “I think I would like to put me room in order.” ’Twas the only excuse she could think of.
“Then I shall bring a meal to you,” Bridgett said with a smile. “I will help ye put yer room in order as well.”
Doubt plagued Onnleigh. Had Connor sent Bridgett to watch over her? To make certain she didn’t steal anything? There would be no way of getting her to leave if that was the case. “That would be verra nice,” she said.
Soon the men declared the bed assembled and left the two women alone.
“Connor has ye stayin’ next to him?” Bridgett asked as she headed toward the small room.
Onnleigh followed her. “Aye. He says he needs me close to N—” she stopped short of speaking the babe’s name. No doubt, Connor had already given her a new one. “The babe.”
Bridgett stood in the middle of the tiny room and gave it a quick inspection. “We’ll need rugs, fresh linens, more linens and nappies for the babe.”
Rugs? Fresh linens? ’Twould be a most welcome change compared to how she’d been living, however she felt wholly unworthy of anyone going out of their way. “No need to fuss over me,” she said. “A warm blanket or two and I’ll be verra happy. Give the babe the things she needs.”
Pretending not to hear her protests, Bridgett went on to say, “Mayhap a tapestry or two on the walls? The room be far too dark. A babe needs lots of bright colors and sunshine, aye?”
Truly, as long as they were providing the things Nola needed, Onnleigh cared for naught else. But how could she explain what she truly felt without giving away that she was the babe’s mum?
Bridgett left to get them lunch, with the promise that she would return soon. Onnleigh breathed a sigh of relief at finally being alone. She stood in the middle of the room and looked at her surroundings. ’Twas a very nice room, so much nicer than where she had been raised. ’Twas then she realized her heart felt light. So much lighter and at ease than she could ever remember feeling.
Ye best nae get yerself too comfortable, a little voice warned. As soon as they remember who ye be, they will nae be so nice.
Bridgett had returned quickly, and with more food than Onnleigh could remember enjoying in an age. “All this food, just fer us?” she asked, in awe at the roast venison, vegetables, bread, cheese, apples and berries, and tankards of cider.
From the expression on Bridgett’s face, she thought Onnleigh’s question odd, but kindly enough, she did not remark.
They sat opposite one another at the little table, while the babe slept in the cradle not far from Onnleigh’s feet. She could not remember a time in her life when she experienced such delicious food, nor could she ever remember being in the presence of someone who talked as much as Bridgett.
“I ken it has been some time since ye’ve been in the keep,” she began. “Much has changed over the years.”
Onnleigh gave a slight nod of understanding. “Aye, Connor be the chief now. I dinnae ken William had passed.”
“William, Connor’s mum, his wife and babe as well, all within the past four years.”
Onnleigh felt a tug of regret at hearing the news about his wife and babe. “I dinnae ken he had married.”
“Aye, they were married less than a year. ’Twas such a difficult time fer him. He loved Maire verra much.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Maire?”
Bridgett laughed. “Aye, Maire, Helen’s eldest daughter. Though I must tell ye, Maire was much nicer than her mum or her sister, Margaret. Och! Never have I met two women as cold-hearted as they.”
Helen. She had been the woman who had taken the switch to Onnleigh’s rear end and legs that day more than ten years ago. It had been Helen’s garden she had taken the leeks from. An involuntary shudder traced up and down her spine at the memory.
“Connor’s brother, Braigh be married now, to a verra fine woman. She’s with child, and due in a few months. Ronald, his other brother, he is nae married.”
Onnleigh was still trying to get rid of the vision of Helen whipping her out of the gates, not really paying attention to much of what Bridgett was saying. And poor Connor. Having lost his wife and babe.
“Louisa, she be in charge of the kitchens now, and a verra nice woman. If ye ever need anythin’ and ye cannae find me, just ask Louisa.”
“How did Connor’s wife and babe die?” she asked.
Bridgett’s smile faded. “’Twas so verra sad. The babe came much too early. Maire died just a few hours after birthin’ him. He died the followin’ morn.”
Dying alone, in childbirth, had been one of the things she had worried about when she was carrying Nola. Her biggest fear was that she would give birth to a living babe only to die minutes later, leaving her babe all alone in this world, with no one to care for her.
Before they had finished their meal, Nola began to stir. Onnleigh went to her immediately, lifted her out of the cradle and to her chest. “How be our bright babe?” she asked soothingly.
Nola looked up at her before thrusting her fist into her mouth. Onnleigh’s heart felt near to bursting, she was so thankful and happy to be reunited with her child. But that little voice still warned against becoming too at ease among these people.
Later in the afternoon Onnleigh was summoned to Connor’s study, with the request that she bring the babe with her.
When she had first entered the keep that morning, no one had paid much attention to her. However, when Bridgett led the way to the study, she could not help but feel a distinct difference in attitude toward her. Though none uttered a word, those few people in the gathering room glared at her with piercing gazes and pursed lips as if to say, We do nae want ye here.
She had been correct in her presumption that once word began to spread, the mistrust her clanspeople felt toward her would come begin to show. It made her skin cold, turning it to gooseflesh with each step she took.
Bridgett left her just outside Connor’s door with a promise to see her at the evening meal. If what she had just witnessed were any indication of how these people felt about her, she would prefer to keep to her r
oom.
She rapped lightly on the door as she prayed silently for her legs to stop shaking.
“Come!” Connor’s voice boomed from within.
With Nola in one arm, Onnleigh slowly opened the door and stepped inside.
He was sitting behind a grand desk with candles all ablaze, even though a good amount of sunlight streamed in through the open windows. Candles had been a rare commodity as she grew up, and she could not see much sense in burning them in broad daylight. Still, ’twasn’t her coin they were burning, so she kept her thoughts on the matter to herself.
“Ah! Onnleigh,” Connor said when he looked up from the large, open book before him. “How be ye this fine afternoon?”
Instantly, she relaxed. He seemed genuinely happy to see her, unlike the folks in the gathering room. “I be well, thank ye.”
“And yer room? Are ye settled in to yer likin’?” His lips curved into a warm smile that formed creases around his eyes. Eyes that near sparkled with kindness.
“Aye, I have, m’laird.” Try as she might, she could not resist the urge to return his smile.
He gave an approving nod before motioning her forward. “Come, I wish to show ye somethin’.”
Cautiously—out of habit more than any true fear of the man—she stepped forward.
He waved her to come around the desk and stand beside him.
“Do ye ken what this is?” he asked as he tapped a finger on one of the open pages.
“A book?” she answered, feeling rather silly, for anyone could see ’twas a book. A very large and thick book.
“Aye, a book. But this be a verra special book.”
She waited silently for further explanation.
“This book be more than one hundred years old, and some of the pages within be even older,” he said. “Since the day Clan MacCallen was formed, the chiefs have been enterin’ the names of their people. When they were born, who they were born to, who they married, any children they may have had, as well as the day they died.”
Secrets of the Heart Page 5
