“Aye, who be yer mum and da?”
“I don’t have a mum or a da. I’m bastard born.”
Ian’s jaw tightened at the boy’s negative description of himself. “Who takes care of ye?”
“Aggie. Her mum brought me here when I was a bairn. Her mum died a few years ago. Aggie takes care of me now.”
Ian nodded his head and his smile returned. “’Tis good ye have someone as nice as Aggie to take care of ye.”
Ailrig smiled then. “Aye. She’s as good a sister as anyone could have.”
Ian stood and patted Ailrig’s head. “I have sisters too. Five of them. But when I was yer age, they used to tweak me nose when I was bad.”
Ailrig giggled at that. “Aggie never does that to me. She treats me good.”
“That is good to ken, lad. What say ye walk with me and tell me about yer good sister, Aggie?”
Ailrig thought on it for a moment. Ian seemed like a nice man. He supposed since Aggie couldn’t speak for herself, it wouldn’t hurt to tell Ian what a great woman she was. Mayhap Ailrig would be able to learn more about Frederick in the process. He gave a nod of his head and followed Ian out of doors.
IT WAS ALL Ian could do to keep his temper in check.
The lad clearly loved Aggie and even though he may have exaggerated a wee bit about her good qualities and fine character, Ian knew the child spoke the truth when he mentioned the McLaren. The more Ian learned of the man the less he liked him.
Soon, Ian found himself looking for Frederick. He wanted his brother to hear with his own ears what the lad had to say. They finally found Frederick standing outside the stables with Findal.
“Frederick,” Ian said as he led Ailrig toward him. “I’d like ye to meet Ailrig.”
Frederick gave a quick nod of his head to the boy. “Pleased to meet ye, young Ailrig.”
Frederick noticed the boy’s wide, fearful eyes and how he stepped closer to Ian, as if he needed protection from Frederick.
“Ailrig, this be Frederick Mackintosh, the man yer sister is to marry,” Ian said with a nod toward Frederick. “And the ugly man next to him be Findal.”
Findal shook his head and muttered something unintelligible under his breath to Ian, but offered a warm how do ye do to the lad.
“Ailrig here is Aggie’s wee brother.”
Frederick’s brow furrowed. He looked at Ian as if to ask brother? He turned his attention to the frightened boy. “I was no’ aware that Aggie had a brother,” he said to Ailrig.
“I be no’ a blood brother, me laird.”
Frederick looked to Ian for further explanation. “Ye see, little Ailrig does no’ have a mum or da. Aggie takes care of him. He thinks of her as his sister.”
Clarity dawned in Frederick’s eyes and his shoulders relaxed a bit. “I see. And how long has Aggie been takin’ care of ye, lad?”
“Me whole life, me laird,” Ailrig answered in a quiet voice.
Frederick could sense the boy’s trepidation and fear. Wanting to put the lad’s mind at ease, he smiled at him. “How blessed ye are to have someone like Aggie to take care of ye,” he said with a smile.
“Ailrig here has been tellin’ me what a good sister Aggie is to him,” Ian offered with a grin.
Frederick immediately picked up on his brother’s hint. The lad would be full of very useful information. If Frederick couldn’t get to know his bride before the wedding, he could gain some knowledge of her through her brother.
“I see,” Frederick said. “Did Ian tell ye that we have five sisters?”
“Aye,” Ian answered with a giggle. “He said they used to tweak his nose when he was me age.”
“That they did!” Frederick laughed. “Of course, he usually deserved it. He was a mischievous lad!”
Ailrig’s shoulders relaxed and the fear he felt moments ago rapidly dissipated. “Aggie never tweaks me nose, she’s a verra good sister.”
“I’m sure she is,” Frederick said. “I must admit that I do no’ ken much about yer sister, Ailrig. I wonder, could ye tell me a little about her?”
Ailrig gave a slight nod of his head. He wanted Frederick to know what a fine woman Aggie was. He also wanted to find out for himself what kind of man Frederick Mackintosh was. “What would ye like to know?”
Frederick’s smile grew. “Well, what kinds of things does she like? What’s her favorite food? Her favorite flower?” Frederick decided it would be best to start with the simple things. Once the lad opened up, he would be able to hopefully gain a better understanding of Aggie and he might also learn what happened that made her lose her ability to speak.
Ailrig thought Frederick’s questions odd. But most things adults said and did were often confusing. “Well, she likes vegetables, but we do no’ get enough of them here. The ground isna good fer crops, ye ken. As fer flowers, she likes buttercups a’cause they be yellow and she likes yellow.”
Frederick made mental notes as Ailrig spoke. The boy was correct that this part of the Highlands made growing crops quite difficult. The terrain was quite rocky and uneven.
“What kinds of things does she enjoy doin’?” Frederick asked.
“Well,” Ailrig tilted his head to the side, giving good consideration to the question. “She likes makin’ the soaps. I help her with findin’ flowers fer that.”
“I see,” Frederick said. “Does she like to sew too?”
“I dunnae about sewin’,” Ailrig said thoughtfully.
“Well, what does she like to do fer fun?”
“Fer fun?” Ailrig asked, clearly confused by the question.
“Aye, fer fun. Does she like to read? Play games? Take walks?”
Ailrig shook his head and looked at Frederick as though he had lost his mind. “Read? Nay, we canna read. And there be no time fer playin’ games. There’s too much work to be done, me laird.”
ROSE AND AILRIG came to see her later that evening, bringing her a tray of bread, stew, and cheese. Ailrig was very excited to tell Aggie all that he had learned earlier in the day.
“He be no’ a bad man, Aggie!” Ailrig said as he sat on the floor beside her. “I didna ken good men like that were real. But he is verra nice.”
Aggie cast him a questioning look. Rose giggled and rubbed the top of Ailrig’s head. “’Tis true, Aggie. I wouldna believed it meself if I hadn’t had the chance to talk to him. His brother Ian and cousin Findal, they all be genuinely concerned fer the state of the keep.”
“Aye,” Ailrig interjected. “They have plans fer repairin’ it. They even want to raise sheep and oxen! Frederick’s father will be sendin’ more men here to help. I ran into Ian in the hallway and he didna box me ears or smack me like Donnel would have. He apologized to me! He said he wasna watchin’ where he was going!”
Aggie twisted her lips and quirked a brow as if to say she didn’t believe them.
“Aye, ’tis true! And Frederick said I could help with the sheep when they get here. He said when I’m bigger, he’ll let me train with him and his men! Aggie, he said I would make a fine warrior!”
Aggie listened as Rose and Ailrig extolled the virtues of her future husband and his men. Rose was actually smiling, something she did not do often enough, for really, what reasons did any of them have to smile? Aggie noticed that Rose had plaited her golden blonde hair, wore a clean dress, and smelled of marigolds. Aggie began to wonder if her friend was not smitten with one of Frederick Mackintosh’s men. Mayhap that could work to Aggie’s advantage.
If Rose could explain to Frederick why this union would never work, then Frederick might be more inclined to take the three of them away. If not for Aggie’s sake, then for Ailrig’s and Rose’s.
For the first time in months, Aggie actually began to feel hopeful. If Frederick and his men were as kind as Rose and Ailrig made them out to be, then mayhap, just mayhap, she would be able to leave this place once and for all.
She tore a piece of stale bread and dipped it in the watery stew and listened to Ailrig continu
e to speak so highly of the men. She had never seen the boy quite so excited or relieved. Not wanting to get her hopes soaring as high as Ailrig’s or Rose’s, she kept her feelings to herself.
“Aggie,” Rose said quietly. “Have ye given any thought to what ye will wear on yer weddin’ day?”
Aggie’s stomach grew into one large knot. In truth, she had been so focused on how to get out of the marriage that she hadn’t given any thought to the wedding. She shook her head nay.
“I thought as much,” Rose said. “Yer da would no’ give ye any fabric fer a dress, would he?”
Aggie shook her head no. Her father wouldn’t give her anything. It didn’t matter to him what she wore as long as she and Frederick exchanged vows.
“Aggie, have ye thought of askin’ Clair to borrow her pretty blue dress?”
Aggie nearly choked on her stew. There was no love lost between she and Clair. Clair was a selfish woman and she oft took great pleasure in making Aggie’s life miserable.
“I wager she’d say yes if we asked her together,” Rose offered.
Aggie seriously doubted it. Besides, Clair was several inches taller than Aggie. Aye, the blue dress that Rose spoke of was quite beautiful, but Aggie knew it would not fit her.
“Just think about it, Aggie, please?” Rose asked. “I have three groats saved. I’ll give them to Clair if she’ll agree to sell it. We could take it in and hem it so it would fit ye better.”
Aggie smiled. Rose had a way of knowing just was Aggie was thinking. They were as close as two women could be without being related by blood. Rose was the only friend Aggie had and Aggie cherished that friendship. But she could not allow Rose to buy the dress.
Aggie set her bowl of stew on the floor and went to the corner of the room. Near the floor, behind the little stool was a loose floorboard. It was a secret hiding spot, where Aggie kept the only treasures she had left in the world; a silver necklace and a tortoise shell comb. They had belonged to her mother and were the only things Aggie had left to remember her by. Mermadak had sold everything else, all of her mother’s jewelry, clothes, and keepsakes.
Rose knew what Aggie intended to do. “Nay, Aggie! Ye canna use those! They were yer mum’s!”
Aggie shrugged her shoulders, tucked the items into her pocket, and returned to her spot on the floor. If Clair wouldn’t accept the trinkets, then Aggie would consider allowing Rose to purchase the pretty blue dress. That was if Clair was willing.
Long ago, the three of them had been friends. Clair was two years older than Aggie and Rose but that hadn’t mattered back then. They did everything together and spent every spare moment in each other’s company. But something happened several years ago and Clair changed. She became snobbish and began to look down at Aggie, as if she were far too good to be in the same room with her, let alone to call her friend. Neither Aggie or Rose could figure out what had happened to cause such a change in the young woman they had once called friend.
Aggie supposed it no longer mattered. Any hope she had once held at mending her friendship with Clair had faded long ago.
BRIGHT AND EARLY the next morn, Rose and Aggie went in search of Clair Wardwin. They found her in the kitchens behaving, as always, as though she were the chatelaine of the keep. Since Mermadak never did anything to stop her from behaving that way, everyone took to looking at her as if she truly were their mistress.
Rose left Aggie in the hallway while she stepped inside to speak with Clair. The young woman was in her usual foul humor, grumbling on about the lack of meat and other basic necessities. It didn’t take much to convince Clair to leave the vegetables she had been peeling in order to speak privately, believing Rose had a bit of gossip she wished to share with her.
Clair’s smile left rapidly when Aggie stepped from the shadows. “What are ye doin’ here?” The woman made no effort to hide the fact that she disliked Aggie, or anyone else for that matter.
Aggie raised her chin and squared her shoulders as Rose stood beside her, drawing strength from her friend.
“We’ve come to ask a favor of ye, Clair,” Rose said.
Clair’s expression changed from surprise to suspicion in the blink of an eye. There were very few people that Clair actually liked, and she trusted even fewer. “A favor?” she asked incredulously. “Of me?”
“Aye, a favor of ye,” Rose said. “Aggie marries on the morrow and she needs a dress. A nice dress.”
Clair crossed her arms over her chest and cast a perturbed look at Aggie before offering it to Rose. She snorted and shook her head. “’Twill be a verra short-lived marriage, once he learns what he’s gettin’, I wager.”
Aggie was used to insults and snide comments hurled her way. Knowing no one would come to her aid or defense—especially not her own father—people felt free to say anything they wanted about her or to her. Mermadak often encouraged the insults and disparaging taunts. She’d had years of practice at disguising her true feelings and pretended not to be offended by Clair’s comment. Still, it stung as much as a slap in the face.
Were she able to, Aggie would have given Clair a piece of her mind. Instead, she hid her anger behind a mask of indifference. I do no’ need anyone to remind me what a farce this is, she thought. Especially no’ the likes of ye, Clair Wardwin!
Rose, however, was not so inclined to keep her thoughts to herself. “Hold yer tongue, Clair!” Rose warned. “We didna come here to discuss the marriage, only the need of a dress fer the weddin’.”
“Och! I canna help ye!” Clair said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Ye can and ye will,” Rose said. “Ye’ve a pretty blue dress that Aggie would like to borrow.”
Clair raised an eyebrow. “Me blue dress? Loan it to her? Ye’ve lost yer mind.”
“Have ye no’ compassion, Clair? Ye ken Mermadak will no’ give us fabric to make her a dress. We need to borrow yers for the ceremony.”
“Nay,” Clair said. “I have no compassion fer the likes of her. And ’tis my dress and I’ll no’ be lettin’ anyone borrow it.”
Rose took a step closer. “Will ye sell it?”
“Nay, I’ll no’ sell it! Besides, neither of ye have coin enough.”
Rose placed her fists on her hips, not quite yet willing to give up. “What if we paid ye to borrow the dress fer the ceremony?”
“Again,” Clair said haughtily. “Neither of ye have coin to buy it or borrow it.”
Rose gave a nod of her head. “Aye, we’ve no’ coin, but we have other things.”
Clair’s curiosity was raised. “What other things?”
Aggie stepped forward and slowly pulled the comb and necklace from the pocket of her dress. She had nothing else on God’s earth to offer Clair. Timidly, she held the items out for her perusal.
“Och!” Clair said. “A comb and a necklace? Ye expect me to let ye wear me good dress in exchange fer paltry things?”
Rose shook her head in dismay. “Clair Wardwin,” she said in a low firm voice. “Ye be just as poor as the rest of us. Aggie is offerin’ ye all that she has in this world to borrow yer pretty dress.”
Clair waved her away again and turned to leave.
“If ye do no’ let Aggie borrow yer dress, I’ll tell yer husband about the vial of pigs blood I helped ye get fer yer weddin’ night.” Rose said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Clair stopped suddenly and turned back to face them. She had grown quite pale.
Aggie was stunned for Rose had never shared this secret with her.
“Ye wouldna dare,” Clair challenged.
Rose smiled. “Aye, I would. How do ye think yer husband will feel when he learns ye were no’ as chaste and pure as ye led him to believe?” Rose asked. “Me thinks he’d no’ be verra understandin’.”
Aggie could see that Clair was mulling the situation over. “He’d no’ believe ye,” she said, not sounding nearly as convinced as she should have been.
“Nay?” Rose asked. “Mayhap aye, mayhap nay. But I’m s
ure he’d believe the man ye did give yerself to.”
Aggie of course had no idea who Clair had been with before she had married Eggar Wardwin, but Rose certainly did. Aggie knew that Rose would never purposefully hurt another being, not if she could help it. Clair however, was not cut from similar cloth. She was the type of women who would use such privileged information for her own gain. Apparently, she was no longer willing to take the chance that Rose would keep her secret.
“Fine!” Clair growled. “But I want it returned in the same condition I give it to ye. Do no’ go cuttin’ on it or hemmin’ it, do ye understand?”
Both Aggie and Rose nodded their heads in agreement. Aggie knew that between the two of them, they’d be able to make the dress work.
Six
AGGIE KNEW SHE was taking a great risk sneaking out of the keep, but she was certain the risk was worth it. Although she had believed God had deserted her long ago, something unfamiliar beckoned and pulled her out of her tiny room, out of the keep, and toward the chapel.
She hid in the shadows and stealthily made her way across the large courtyard. By the time she stepped into the dimly lit chapel, her heart threatened to burst from her chest. Tiny beads of sweat covered her brow and upper lip. Lifting the end of her apron, she dabbed at her face before crossing herself and quickly making her way toward the altar.
It seemed a lifetime had passed since the last time she had entered the chapel or prayed. For the first thirteen years of her life, Aggie’s mother had seen to it that she had at least a rudimentary understanding of God and prayer. Together, they had visited the chapel every morning and most evenings. Lila was a true believer and never questioned God’s existence or His power. Aggie had been devout as well, until that fateful day in the glen when everything changed.
Aggie took a deep breath before she knelt and folded her hands together. What do I pray fer? She wondered. Her mind was a jumbled mess. She decided she should first pray for forgiveness for the length of time since her last prayer.
God, I do no’ ken if yer even there, but if ye are, and ye could spare just a wee bit of yer time, I’d be forever grateful to ye. I do no’ ken where to go, where to turn, or what to do. I’m afraid Father, deathly afraid that once Frederick Mackintosh learns the truth, he’ll leave me without so much as a farewell. And when that happens, I fear da will kill me, fer I ken the beatin’ will be something fierce. I ken ye do no’ have time fer the likes of me, but Father, if ye could please find a way to take care of Ailrig, I could go to me death with a peaceful mind and heart. Ailrig is an innocent, Father. ’Tis no’ his fault he was born illegitimately. He’s a good lad, Father, he truly is.
Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series Page 5
