Rose knew she should leave to avoid being caught, but the chairs had not yet moved. She hesitated, not wanting to miss anything her mother said.
“She’s in the infirmary at present,” Father Seward explained.
“Why is she in the infirmary?”
“Because a cruel bunch of girls embarrassed her over her courses in the great hall. I took the liberty of escorting her to the infirmary. I have taken care of the worst of the offenders. ’Twill not happen again.”
A chair clattered against the floor. “You’re to leave her in her own chamber as I instructed. Do not coddle my child. I’ll not have it! If you do not do as I say, I’ll cut my payment in half.”
Her mother must have stood up, so Rose readied herself to race back down the passageway. The last thing she wished to do was be caught in such a position.
“Verra well,” Mother Marion said. “We’ll take care of the situation.”
“Now, I’d like to see my child.” Her voice was once again as sweet as could be. “I’m sure she needs a mother’s comforting after this debacle. Lead the way, please.”
Someone cleared a throat. “About that payment, my lady,” Father Seward said.
Rose didn’t need to hear anything about the coin her mother was bribing them to keep her here against her will, so she hurried down the passageway and back up to the infirmary.
A fury blossomed deep in her belly, begging to be let loose. If she could shout, she’d save all of her shouting for her mother. She was not stupid.
Who else could manage to keep her mother’s secrets? Anyone with a weaker mind would have succumbed long ago.
How many other lasses would be capable of convincing the entire world that they were deaf when they weren’t? Anyone else would have made a mistake, turned an ear to a loud noise, reacted to something someone said, or done something that would lead others to believe that she could indeed hear.
She’d done it quite easily and had never been questioned. How could the evil woman not see that took intelligence? She slipped inside the door to the chamber in the infirmary, nodded to Constance and took a seat on the edge of her bed. Soon, she could hear the voices of the abbess and her mother, who had apparently been joined by Sister Murreall. They drew close but Rose said nothing to Constance, not wanting her to suspect where she’d been.
“They’re coming!” Constance pointed and let her know three people were approaching the room.
A light knock landed on the door, but Rose ignored it.
The abbess called out a greeting that only Constance responded to. Standing and folding her hands in front of her, Constance said, “Come in, Mother Abbess. ’Tis most lovely to see you this morn.”
Rose acted startled when they entered, another one of her well-practiced coverups.
“Oh my dearest,” her mother cried, hurrying to her side, sitting on the bed, and wrapping her arms around her. “I’ve heard you’ve had a difficult time of late. I’m so sorry the other girls have been unpleasant to you.” Once she embraced her daughter, her arms clutching too tightly for comfort, she addressed Constance. “If you do not mind, I’d like some time alone with my daughter. I’m sure she’d appreciate it if you left us for a short time.” She gave her best practiced smile to the abbess and to Constance.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Mother Abbess said, “How do you fare this morn, Rose?” Then she fussed, realizing she had spoken to a deaf person as though she would answer. To make up for it, she said to Constance, “Does she seem better this morn?”
Constance quickly answered her question before she headed out the door. “She does seem to feel a wee bit more herself. I think I can return to my regular chamber today, Mother Abbess. May I come back for my things later?”
“Why of course, my dear. Do as you are comfortable doing.” The abbess gave her shoulder a pat. Before following her out of the room, she asked, “Will you be needing anything else, Lady MacDole?”
“Nay, I am fine. I just wish to spend time with my dear daughter. I do miss her so.” She smiled as she wrapped her arm around Rose’s shoulders, leaning in as if to give her a hug.
“Verra well. I will take my leave. If you need anything at all, send for the sister. She’ll assist you.” The abbess bowed briefly and left, shutting the door with a resounding click.
Rose watched as her mother stood and made her way to the door, ensuring it was indeed shut. She never took her eyes off the woman because she now knew her for what she was—a liar.
Even so, Rose was completely surprised by her mother’s next action.
Lady MacDole spun on her heel, swinging her arm in a wide arc, and struck her so hard across her cheek that she fell back onto the bed.
Her mother had never struck her before. Her hand flew up to protect the now stinging skin on her face, afraid she was about to be a hit a second time.
What could she do to protect herself? She was stuck in a building where the abbess, the nuns, and the priest were all under her mother’s control. All receiving her coin, apparently. She pushed up on her elbows and used her feet to maneuver her back up against the wall, anything to put space between her and the cruel woman.
Her mother’s voice changed into the vilest of whispers, her tone grating and the fury in her eyes unlike anything Rose had ever seen or heard. “Look what you’ve done! I sent you here to beg for forgiveness from our dear Lord because of your whoring sins. Apparently, you haven’t done what He expected of you because here you are bleeding again. I hear it has been a most difficult time for you, so you must have angered our Lord even more. You will not learn how to read. You are here to beg for absolution of your sins, not to make friends with anyone. You will not coddle yourself, and you will not spend your time with other young people. Do you understand me?”
Rose nodded, still protecting her face.
Her mother leaned over and grasped her underarm, squeezing it hard enough to make Rose wish she could cry out. She whispered in Rose’s ear, “Do you? Because I haven’t forgotten my promise to you. If you don’t behave as you should, I’ll send you out to an island where no one will ever find you. I’ll leave you to die a slow death of starvation…or mayhap you’ll be attacked by a wild animal. Do not think I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of you interfering in my life. I didn’t want you when you were born, and I don’t want you now. Do as I say or you will regret it.”
Rose nodded her agreement. What else could she do?
Her mother stood, her eyes still boring into Rose. She shook herself as if to regain her composure and readied herself to leave. “Now, I will take my leave. When I return next, I expect to find you in a chamber alone, praying for forgiveness. I have given the father and abbess strict instructions that you are to see no one, and you are to receive all your meals in your chamber. You will be sent to do hard labor for four hours a day, even when you bleed.”
Her mother turned to go out the door, but then turned back around. “I see the shock on your face, child, and I understand it.” Her voice had returned to a normal tone in case anyone overheard their discussion. “You were coddled by your father, but he’s no longer here to protect you. I am all you have. Please do not make the mistake of underestimating me.”
The last sentence came out in a whisper. Then she turned and stalked out of the room.
The old Rose would have sobbed.
The new Rose swore she’d get her revenge, even against her own mother.
Chapter Eleven
Roddy woke up in a cold sweat, swinging his arms.
Connor yelled at him. “Roddy, what the hell? You’re yelling like a wolf caught in nettles.”
He did his best to slow his breathing. Fighting to get to the surface of a body of water was no different than fighting a giant beast. In fact, his shoulders nearly ached from swimming to the surface over and over again, never to arrive. “Sorry, another nightmare. I’m fine. Didn’t mean to wake you.” He climbed off the bed and stalked out of the chamber he shared wi
th Connor at Braden’s house.
Connor grunted as he rolled over, or so Roddy would guess. He’d already shut the door behind him and made haste for the stairs. The pace he’d set was punishing, and he forced himself to slow his steps until his breathing slowed also. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he took a deep, slow breath as the memories of his nightmare returned to him.
Water again. He had been submerged underwater, unable to get to the surface in time.
He found something to drink and fell into a chair in front of the hearth. A few moments later, he was surprised to hear footsteps coming toward him from the tower, where his aunt and uncle now lived.
Uncle Brodie stopped as soon as he noticed Roddy by the hearth. “You are hale, nephew?”
Roddy nodded, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Aye, just a nightmare. Woke me enough that I hopped out of bed.” He took a swig of the ale he’d poured himself.
His heartbeat had nearly returned to normal. The water had felt so real, his ears rang with the dullness being deep in a loch would give you. He knew those sensations well. He’d grown up on a loch.
Uncle Brodie pulled up a chair and said, “What’s troubling you? Anything specific?”
Roddy let out his breath. He’d known his uncle would prod him for more information. The people in his family looked after one another.
“I’ve been having nightmares occasionally about drowning. I’m in water and can’t reach the top.”
“Why do you suppose you’ve had the dreams of late?” Uncle Brodie asked, finding his own goblet of ale to swill.
“Not sure, though mayhap ’tis related to something else I’ve been experiencing.” He paused, doing his best to think over his words before he went any further. Though he’d told his cousins and Rose about his problem, he had not yet shared it with anyone from the older generation. Telling Uncle Brodie would make it feel more real.
“Would you like to share your troubles with me? These old bones have seen more than you have. I’d like to think I’ve gained some wisdom from it.” He gave Roddy a lopsided grin.
The last thing he’d ever think was that any of his uncles were too old to be of use. His father and his uncles had taught him so much. Perhaps Uncle Brodie might have an idea of how to help him, how to end his problem. “The last few times I’ve come under attack, I’ve panicked and frozen.” He glanced at his uncle to see if he looked shocked, but it was impossible to read his expression. “It happened when we were attacked by boars and then again when we were attacked by reivers.” He rubbed his hands together, a gesture he did whenever he didn’t know what to make of a situation. He waited to see how his uncle would respond.
Uncle Brodie asked, “Did I not hear that you took one of the reivers out?”
“Aye, but only when he was nearly upon me. I should have been more aggressive. Any man trained in the Grant lists would have been, but I froze and didn’t move until he was nearly upon me. Connor yelled at me to wake up.”
“And is that why you finally protected yourself?”
This thought puzzled him. Was that why he’d finally swung his weapon? Because Connor had yelled at him, pulling him out of his panic? “Nay, I think ’twas sheer instinct. Swing or die.”
“Then I’d not worry on it. Your instincts are still strong. You’ll not allow someone to best you. You’ve been well-trained and have practiced hard in the lists. That never leaves you. Now, tell me about the nightmares.”
Roddy considered his uncle’s words. Could he be correct? With a deep sigh, he admitted, “I fall into water and can’t find my way back to the surface. I struggle to rise, but I cannot make it.”
“Is it similar to the time your sire had to pull you out of the loch?”
Roddy stared at his uncle, trying to recall the incident he referred to, but he could not. “I don’t recall…”
“In your loch, the one you swam in all summer. I recall your sire saying he had to go in after a couple of you. You don’t remember?”
Roddy tried, but he had no memory of being saved from drowning by his sire. “Nay, I don’t recall.”
“Mayhap you should ask him about it when you return to Clan Grant. I cannot recall the details because I was not there. But I’m sure your sire remembers. I’d remember if ’twas one of my own.”
Roddy rubbed his hand across the scruff of his beard.
Seems as though he would be heading back to Clan Grant soon. He needed answers to his questions.
***
Rose tiptoed down the moonlit path later that night. Sister Murreall had taken away all of the books that morning—and Constance had been forced to leave for another chamber.
Sister Murreall had shaken her head and told them, “There’ll be no more of these books for either of you. You must focus on training to become a servant of the Lord.” Only she’d muttered something quite different to herself as she made her way down the hall. “I dinnae see what the trouble could be about a lass learning to read, especially one who cannot hear or speak.”
Before Constance was forced to leave the room, they were given a minute alone together. “I don’t understand why they don’t want me to continue to help you with your lessons,” Constance said bitterly. “If we can read, then we can learn more about the Bible.”
Rose made the sign for her mother.
“Your mother? She’s not verra nice, is she? Is that why we’re being separated?”
Rose nodded, refusing to cry over the situation. Instead, she would focus all her energy on getting out of the abbey. She wasn’t sure where she’d go, but she had to find Roddy. He would help her find a place to stay. Perhaps Clan Grant would accept her for who she was and not try to change her or punish her. No matter what, Constance would always be a part of her. The lass had such a sweet, generous soul.
“Is that also why you must sleep alone and stay in your room?”
Rose nodded, but then indicated that she would not follow the rules set out for her. She would find her way out, even if it were at night. She gave Constance a swift hug.
“Euphemie won’t be pleased that she won’t have you around to taunt any more. That’s the only good that will come of this. You take care, Rose. Best friends we’ll be forever. I promise.”
Much as she tried, she couldn’t stop the misting in her eyes as she watched her dear friend retreat down the passageway, her possessions in her arm.
She’d spent the next hours alone, pondering all that had transpired, and the only thing she could continue to feel was the need to get away.
Far away. At home, her mother had controlled her, but she’d always been able to escape outside. Being cooped up inside was more than she could handle. Once she crept down the staircase and out the door, she stopped for a moment to breathe in the fresh night air. It was a lovely Scottish night, and the sounds of the outdoors were music to her ears. She continued to walk slowly and softly down the garden path, contemplating what she should do next and where she should go.
An owl hooted so loudly she jumped. Swiveling her head to take in the area around her, she was pleased to see no one had been there to notice her reaction to the loud sound.
When she reached the end of the path, the owl sat on the branch above her. It had golden eyes, and its feathers were glorious shades of brown and black and gray. Why didn’t humans have such a mixture of colors in their hair?
As if to speak to her, its beak opened and a slight “hoo” came out. How Rose wished she could communicate with the regal bird. She watched its movement—how it stood so tall, how its head moved without moving his body. It rotated its head to look at a nearby bird but then swiveled back to stare at her.
Under its golden gaze, she felt as if her father were with her, as if he’d found a way to communicate with her from beyond.
The owl’s talons reached out as if it wished to sit on her arm, but she’d heard how powerful bird’s talons could be. She reached into the inside of her gown for the linen square she’d tucked in there. Shak
ing it out, she then settled it on her forearm and moved closer to the owl to see if he would actually perch on her arm.
The bird stared at her, then away, then stared at her again. Finally, it reached out one talon, touching her arm with it as if testing its perch, before moving the other one. It settled on her arm, but only for a second or two before flying away.
She watched in awe as its wings spread out over the tops of the trees. With just a small tip of its body, it turned through the air, gliding gracefully. So infatuated with him, she never heard the approaching footsteps behind her.
“The fact that you cannot hear or speak makes this almost too easy.” A hand grasped her shoulder.
When she spun around, she found herself facing Euphemie, Ada, and another girl she didn’t know. The three girls reached forward and grabbed her, pinning her and preventing her from running. “No one will ever hear you since you cannot speak or scream,” Euphemie said. “Did you know there are several monks visiting? They love to take walks late at night, so we thought we’d give them a show. They may not be allowed to touch, but they can look, can they not?”
Rose fought and kicked with everything she had, but it was one person against three. They tossed her to the ground and tied her feet and hands with rope.
The third girl asked, “Why do you hate her so, Euphemie?”
“I don’t know,” Euphemie said. “But I do.” She spat on Rose’s chest as if to punctuate her remark.
Ada giggled and whispered, “Because she’s so pretty and Euphemie’s not.”
Euphemie’s expression closed down, and she punched Ada in the arm. “Close your mouth or you’ll be next.” The lass was distracted enough for Rose to get in one good kick, right in her crotch. Euphemie swore and said, “You’ll regret that, bitch.”
How Rose wished she could scream. She kicked and fought for all she was worth, even after they tied her legs together. She managed to sit up enough to butt Ada with her head. The lass reeled back and said, “Ow. Make her stop, Euphemie. She hurt me.”
Highland Lies (The Band of Cousins Book 4) Page 10
