Fated Hearts 02 - Highland Echoes

by Ceci Giltenan

  Kristen still looked scared and gripped the edge of the saddle, but she said, “One more step.”

  Bram smiled at her and urged Goliath forward another step.

  “One more,” said Kristen.

  Bram chuckled. “It’s only a few more steps to the stable. Would ye like to ride until we get there?”

  She looked at him wide-eyed, but gave him another slow nod. Keeping his hand on her waist, Bram walked Goliath the ten paces to the stable door. By the time he stopped, Kristen had a broad grin on her face. He lifted her down to the ground.

  “I wode Gowiaff, Mama,” she exclaimed, throwing her little arms around her mother’s legs.

  “I saw. Ye were very brave. What do ye say to Sir Bram?”

  Kristen turned to look at him. “Fank ye.”

  Bram gave her a small bow. “Ye are very welcome, my sweet, wee lassie.”

  He looked at Grace. Her eyes were filled with warmth. “Thank ye. That was very kind.”

  Without thinking, he reached out to her, caressing her cheek. “Ye are very welcome too.”

  She swallowed hard. “We—we should be going.”

  He dropped his hand. “Then I wish ye a good afternoon.”

  *

  As Grace walked on she realized that earlier she had been seriously mistaken. God hadn’t heard her prayer. She was very much in danger of losing her heart to Bram Sutherland. She should avoid him at all costs. If God wouldn’t protect her, she would have to do it herself. Even so, she couldn’t get him out of her mind.

  Unfortunately, that became even harder to do than she thought it would be. Bram walked by the little cottage for the next several afternoons as she worked wool or spun outside while Kristen napped. They chatted about nothing in particular but she began looking forward to the few minutes he spent with her every day.

  On Saturday evening, as soon as she had put Kristen in bed, she stepped outside to enjoy the cool evening breeze. To her surprise, he was there, leaning against a nearby building.

  “Wh—what are ye doing here?”

  “Listening to ye sing.”

  “What?”

  “I love to hear ye sing to Kristen. I have since the first night I met ye. Somehow, I’m drawn here more evenings than not.”

  “Just to listen to me sing?”

  “Well, I also hope to see ye.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t ye? I thought it was rather obvious. Grace, ye have enchanted me. I enjoy being with ye.”

  Everything in her screamed at her to push him away. Now. Before it hurt even more. But she couldn’t. After all, he wasn’t declaring his love for her. He had only said he enjoyed being with her and she felt that way too. Could she just let him in a little? Just enjoy time spent with him for what it was? Finally she said, “I like yer company too.”

  His smile was as bright as the midday sun. Oh, it was so easy to look at him. He walked to her, taking her hands in his. “Oh my beautiful lass, for a moment I feared ye would send me away.”

  She smiled. “I fear I should, but I cannot.”

  “Will ye let me walk the headlands with ye and Kristen tomorrow afternoon?

  “Ye must be willing to eat on the ‘gwass’,” she said with a cheeky grin.

  Bram grinned back. “I’d like nothing more.”

  “Then I will see ye tomorrow.”

  She could do this. She could take what he was able to give her and still firmly hold onto her heart.

  The next afternoon, their walk on the headlands was wonderful. It felt as if he had been a friend forever. They talked and laughed and simply enjoyed the time together. Yes, this was possible.

  Chapter 12

  During the evening meal, six days after Eanraig sent the betrothal request to Laird Sinclair, the messenger returned. Eanraig’s brow furrowed as he read it.

  “He didn’t refuse, did he?” asked Rodina.

  “Nay he didn’t, but he didn’t agree either. He says he has promised his children he will consider their wishes when arranging betrothals. Therefore, he would like Annice to have the opportunity to meet Bram before we discuss anything.”

  “Well then, it is just a matter of time. Send Bram to the Sinclairs for a visit. What lass wouldn’t be impressed with Bram?”

  Eanraig kept his voice low, so as to prevent Bram, who sat at the other end of the table, from hearing. “I mean no offense, Rodina, but ye are his mother and ye only see the good. Since we returned from the MacKays he is surly and bad-tempered.”

  Rodina laughed. “With ye perhaps but he knows how to charm the lassies when he wants to.”

  Again, Eanraig kept is voice low. “I fear that is the problem. Of late he doesn’t want to charm any lass but Innes’ granddaughter. This is the second Sunday in a row that he has spent the afternoon walking the headlands with her.”

  Rodina frowned. “Surely not.”

  “I’m afraid so,” Eanraig assured her. “She is the only lass he danced with on Pentecost, and in addition to walking with her on the headlands, he has been seen chatting with her at Innes’ cottage. If I send him to the Sinclairs, he could sabotage the whole thing just to avoid marriage. Perhaps I should seek a betrothal for him elsewhere.”

  “That would be a shame,” said Rodina. “I can’t help but think he will like Annice once he meets her.”

  “I suppose we could invite the Sinclairs to come here.”

  Rodina nodded. “Perhaps that is better anyway. Since she will be living here, it will give her the opportunity to see her new home. And it will give a little time for this infatuation to run its course, for I’m sure that’s all it is.”

  Eanraig wasn’t sure, but he did need some time to find a solution to the problem. “Aye, ye are probably right. I will send a message back inviting them for a visit.”

  Eanraig cleared his throat. “Bram,” he said in a voice intended to carry to all assembled. “We have received good news from the Sinclairs.” The grim expression on his son’s face told him that he had been right. “They would like the opportunity to meet ye before finalizing the betrothal so I am inviting them for a visit.”

  Bram nodded but said nothing.

  A frown flitted briefly across Rodina’s face. “Son, aren’t ye excited by the news? Ye said yerself ye didn’t want to marry a lass who pined for another. Ye can make sure that isn’t the case.”

  “Aye, Mother, it’s fine.”

  *

  Damnation. Bram had hoped Sinclair would turn down the proposal. He had hoped for more time. With time he might have had the opportunity to get to know Grace better. He might have been able to talk his father into letting him chose his own bride. Still, he had some time. He would do what he could.

  The next day, his father asked him to ride with several guardsmen to some of the outlying farming communities to check on the status of crops. It would take three days to do the full circuit. Bram wanted to speak with Grace alone before he left, but she usually worked with Innes in the kitchen in the mornings. Still, he would stop by the kitchen to pick up their provisions and at least see her before he left.

  When he reached the kitchen, the usual morning flurry of work was underway. Kristen knelt on a bench, eating a bowl of porridge but Grace wasn’t there.

  “Good morning, Sir Bram,” called several of the women.

  “Good morning, Sir Bram,” said Innes cheerily.

  “Good morning, Sir Bwam,” chirped Kristen.

  “Good morning, ladies. Innes, where is Grace this fine morning?”

  “Yer lady mother sent for her. Is there something I can help ye with?”

  “What did my mother want to see Grace about?”

  “Now, lad, ye’d have to ask her that. Yer mother doesn’t seek my approval on her plans for the day.” The other women laughed. “Is there something I can help ye with?” she asked again.

  “Nay. Well, aye, I’m riding out to check on the crops for my father. I need provisions for six men for three days.
”

  “Aye, I know,” said Innes. “Donal has already collected them.”

  “Ah, well, good then. I guess I’ll just be going. Kristen, lass, tell yer mama I’m sorry I missed her.” That raised a few eyebrows, but Bram didn’t care.

  *

  This was only the second time Grace had been inside Sutherland keep. The first time had been exceedingly uncomfortable. Ellie, one of the lasses who served in the keep, had come to the kitchen immediately after breakfast to tell Grace that Lady Sutherland had sent for her. Now Grace stood before her. “Ye wished to see me, my lady?”

  “Aye, Grace. I hear you are a weaver.”

  “I know the craft well, but I don’t have a loom.”

  “I understand ye have a ribbon loom on which ye are particularly talented.”

  Grace knew her ribbons were beautiful but humility wouldn’t allow her to acknowledge this. “I do have a ribbon loom, my lady, and I can weave ribbon.”

  Lady Sutherland looked at her closely, as if examining her dress. “Ye can weave ribbon and yet ye’ve nothing adorning yer own clothes.”

  Grace smiled. “I can’t earn a living if I use the ribbon I weave on my own clothing.”

  Lady Sutherland laughed. “I suppose not. What do ye weave with?”

  “For ribbon, I mostly use linen thread. I can spin it and dye it myself. I sometimes buy linen thread in colors that I can’t make myself. I can make more varied designs that way.”

  “Have ye ever woven with silk thread?”

  “Aye, my lady.”

  Lady Sutherland held out a strip of deep green ribbon that had a quatrefoil worked down the center in cream and yellow colored thread. “My husband bought this from a ribbon merchant several years ago but I only had enough to trim the neck and sleeves of one garment. I think this pattern would be even more beautiful worked on blue ribbon with cream and using gold thread instead of yellow. Is that something ye could do?”

  “Aye, my lady, but I don’t have any silk.”

  Lady Sutherland smiled. “Well, I have silk thread but no Sutherland weaver who knows how to work with it. If I give ye some thread, can ye weave a small piece for me so I can see yer skill? Then if I am happy with it, I will have ye weave more for me.”

  “Certainly, my lady.”

  “If I do have ye weave more for me, could ye have several ells completed soon? In a week or so?”

  “Aye, my lady. I might not be able to help in the kitchen as much, but if that is acceptable, depending on how much ye want, I could have it ready for ye.”

  “I suspect yer skills are put to better use weaving than washing pots. My oldest son’s betrothed will be visiting us soon and I want it as a gift for her.”

  “That would be a lovely gift, my lady. I can work a small piece for ye today and ye can decide.” Betrothed? Grace didn’t realize that Bram had been betrothed again. That bit of knowledge hurt more than she had expected it would.

  “Excellent. Bring it to me after the evening meal and I will decide.” She gave Grace a spool of each color thread she wanted used and the small piece of ribbon to use as a pattern.

  “As ye wish, my lady.” Grace curtsied and left, heading for the kitchens. Even just with linen thread she truly enjoyed creating the beautiful designs she could work on ribbon. The chance to make them using the silk thread Lady Sutherland had given her was something that would normally have thrilled her. However, the fact that her creation was to be a gift for the lass Bram would marry dampened her joy.

  When she reached the kitchen, Innes was anxious to hear what Lady Sutherland had wanted. As Grace started to tell them about the ribbon, Kristen tugged at her skirt. “Mama, Mama, Mama.”

  “Kristen, ye are being impolite. Please wait.” Kristen frowned but waited until Grace had finished telling the women about the Lady Sutherland’s request. At the mention of who the ribbon was being made for, several women looked surprised but no one commented.

  “Thank ye for minding yer manners, Kristen. Now what did ye want to tell me?”

  “Sir Bwam is going away for free days and said to teww ye he was sowwy he missed ye.”

  Grace felt a blush rise in her cheeks. Perhaps that is what prompted the surprised looks. “Thank ye, Kristen.” She decided it was best to ignore the awkwardness so she said, “Grandmother, I’ll have to work on the ribbon all day if I am to have a sample done for Lady Sutherland tonight.”

  “Of course ye will, lass. Go on now and get started.”

  Grace took Kristen back to the cottage. Kristen entertained herself just outside the front door, while Grace set up her loom and began the process of weaving. She could see Kristen through the open door.

  Sometime after midday, Moyra knocked at the door. “Innes said when ye didn’t come up to the kitchen, she reckons ye were too focused on yer work to realize it’s time to eat. She sent me with a basket for ye.”

  Grace looked up. “Thank ye, Moyra. My grandmother was right, I had lost track of time. I love weaving ribbon and the silk thread Lady Sutherland gave me is beautiful.”

  Moyra looked at ribbon. “Grace, I don’t think I have ever seen prettier. I think yers is nicer than the bit she gave ye as a pattern.”

  “Thank ye.”

  “Do ye mind that it’s for Bram’s betrothed.”

  “Why would I mind?”

  “I thought ye and Bram…well he seems to take a special interest in ye…I thought maybe…”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “Bram doesn’t take a special interest in me and he is the laird’s son. I know better.”

  “Well, he was asking for ye before he left this morning.”

  “He probably just noticed that I wasn’t in the kitchen.”

  “Peggy wasn’t there. He didn’t ask about her.”

  “Moyra, really, I’m sure he just saw Kristen there and wondered where I was.”

  “So ye don’t mind that he’s betrothed?”

  “Nay Moyra, I don’t mind that he’s betrothed.” Even as she said the words her insides twisted a bit. “It really doesn’t matter who the ribbon is for, I like making it.”

  “Well, it is lovely. I’d best be getting back to the kitchen now.”

  “And I’d best be feeding my wee lass.”

  When Moyra had left, Kristen said, “Gwanny made us a basket, can we cwimb the hiww and eat on the gwass?”

  “Not today, sweetling. Mama has work to do.”

  “Making wibbon?”

  “Aye, making ribbon.”

  “Can we go tomowwow?”

  “Maybe for a little while. We will see.”

  Kristen gave an exaggerated sigh. “Aww wight.”

  Grace laughed. “I love ye my wee sprite.”

  When they had finished eating, Kristen laid down on her pallet to rest. The morning sun came through the front window of the cottage, but there was less natural light in the afternoon. Grace wanted to work outside in the light, but she didn’t have a small table. There was nothing for it, she dragged a stool outside, put her loom on it, and knelt next to it to work.

  She didn’t know how long she had been working like this, when a shadow fell across her work. “What on earth are ye doing, Grace?”

  She looked up into Michael’s warm smile. “I’m weaving ribbon for Lady Sutherland.”

  “But why are ye kneeling on the ground to do it?”

  She smiled. “I need good light and in the afternoon it’s better outside. But I don’t have a table small enough to carry outside, so I had to improvise.”

  “Lass, ye can’t work for hours on yer knees.”

  Grace shrugged. “It’s the only way I can have the light. Well, that is as long as no one stands in it.” She looked pointedly at him.

  He laughed. “I’ll move, but I am going to find ye a table.”

  “Ye needn’t bother, Michael. I don’t want to take ye away from yer own work. I’ll manage.”

  He shook his head. “I said I’ll find ye a table, Grace.”

  “But—”
<
br />   He waved off her objection as he walked away.

  In no time he was back with two trestles and a much smaller board than was normally used for a table. He set it up for her. “Here, now for the love of God get off yer knees. This will work for now. I’ll see about getting ye a proper table that is small enough for ye to move wherever ye need it.”

  “Thank ye, but this is fine. Ye needn’t bother—”

  “Don’t tell me what I needn’t bother doing. I am in the habit of doing what pleases me and it pleases me for ye to have a table.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t argue, Grace. Just say ‘thank ye, Michael.’”

  She smiled. “Thank ye, Michael.”

  She had to admit, it was much easier to work sitting at a table. When it was time for the evening meal, Grace had produced a little less than an arm’s length, roughly half an ell, of fine ribbon.

  “It’s pwetty, Mama,” said Kristen.

  “I hope Lady Sutherland thinks so,” Grace said as she tucked the loom with the ribbon attached, as well as the spools of thread, into a basket.

  Grace walked with Kristen to the kitchen, where they always ate with Innes. While they were eating, the serving maids cleared the tables after the meal. On seeing Grace, one of them said, “Grace, Lady Sutherland says ye’re to come to the hall now.”

  Grace nodded. “Thank ye. Grandmother, will ye mind Kristen for me until I come back?”

  “Of course I will, lass. Ye don’t think she’d like any honey cake, do ye?” Innes said, winking at her.

  “I would,” said Kristen.

  “Aye, well, save me some,” said Grace, kissing her daughter’s head before she left.

  Grace took the basket to the great hall. Although the meal had been cleared away, the trestle tables were still set up and people, mostly men-at-arms, still sat at them. She walked to the refectory table where Lord and Lady Sutherland sat. Ian sat with them, as did a number of guardsmen, including Michael who smiled broadly at her.

  She curtsied. “Good evening, my lady, Laird.”

  “Good evening, Grace. Do ye have some ribbon to show me?” asked Lady Sutherland.

  “Aye, my lady. It is still attached to the loom. If ye like it, it is better to weave it in one long piece. If ye don’t like it, I’ll take it off the loom now.” Grace sat the basket on the table, removing the loom and unfurling the finished ribbon for Lady Sutherland to inspect.