Emma frowned at the thought of adding another lie to her growing pile. She wondered if the real Esmeralda would have received any type of warm welcome, and instantly she decided not. “It was a long time ago. I remember very little of being here. My mother never spoke of this part of our lives.” What am I saying? While that might explain some of my cluelessness, it opens a wide door to ask what she did talk about.
Aalish placed a kiss on Thomas’ forehead. “I should have introduced you to the other women. Forgive my poor manners.” The words were polite, but her eyes still held no warmth.
The woman emptied the buckets into the almost-full pot. “My thanks for your aid. I have made too many trips to the well already.”
Watching Aalish stir the boiling pot of clothing while holding the small boy made Emma’s skin crawl. I wonder if she would normally do this or if she is holding the boy to keep me away from him? Realizing that Aalish was likely protecting the child from her, Emma reached for the large, sturdy stick Aalish was using. “Let me, please.”
“Dinna fret over the way of the women. Given time, they will find another tale to tell,” Aalish said as she stood across from Emma.
Holding the solid two-inch-thick pole, Emma guessed it had to be five feet in length. It was similar in structure to her bo staff. This would make a decent substitute for my training with Cortland. The repetitive motion cleared her mind like it always did. She asked, “What tale do they tell?”
Aalish said, “‘Tis hard for a woman alone in the world. You did what you had to do to survive.”
The pole swirled, and clothing bobbed in the water. Steam lifted and filled the air with the clean, fresh scent of herbs mixed into the soap. Emma processed the idea of what she had had to do to survive. It hadn’t been anything monumental, just a will to get out of bed, meet with lawyers, arrange for funeral plans to be put into action, but Aalish didn’t know about her life and loss. No one did. Esmeralda had to survive alone in a world dominated by men. Esmeralda had . . .
Lifting her gaze to meet Aalish’s, Emma felt her cheeks flush with outrage and horror. Everyone believed she was Esmeralda, and that she had done the unthinkable. “What you heard was wrong!”
“I meant no disrespect. You need to ken it will take time for all to see you for who you are beyond a tale,” Aalish said.
“Bullshit,” Emma growled harshly. “You and everyone else here think I was selling myself to keep a roof over my head. I would starve before I would ever do anything like that.” Dropping the laundry stick, she headed for where the girls were playing in the field. There is no way I’m going to be treated like this on a daily basis. Cortland and I will need to have a talk.
Aalish’s hand grabbed Emma’s sleeve. “By all the saints, you are quick. Calm yourself, Emma. If there has been a falsehood, it will soon be corrected. Your actions have already shown me you have a fine heart. First, you brought Mary to me, and then you had a rightful concern for wee Thomas. Talk to me and tell me your truth.”
It was the first sentence Aalish had spoken with a shred of kindness in her eyes. A chill raced down Emma’s spine as she realized the woman thought the same of her. Emma breathed deeply to find what she could of her calm. Looking Aalish in the eye, she demanded, “Tell me what you heard.”
Aalish turned away and walked back to the pot of steaming water. “After I make certain my family’s clothes dinna burn. Hold him while I remove the clothes.” Aalish thrust Thomas into Emma’s arms.
Unable to remain hostile while chubby hands squished her cheeks, Emma listened to the horrid story. It was the same one Cortland had given her: finding a woman named Esmeralda at an alehouse. Cortland supposedly recognized her and sent the men away, who, in turn, returned to Draig lands to tell the tale. The rest was all speculation. It would seem the gossip train hasn’t quite been brought up to date. No one whispers about Esmeralda meeting Cortland on the street. But, why would they? That’s a boring story.
Aalish hung the clothes to dry on the line next to the cottage. Her eyes turned to Emma. “‘Tis wrong?”
She silently thanked Cortland for his foresight of giving her a better story and one he would verify.
“Cortland, I mean Da, we’re still getting used to each other,” Emma fumbled. “I was in the market buying supplies. We ran into each other, hard enough to knock me to the ground. When a large hand lifted me up from the dirt, I was looking into eyes I remembered from so long ago. It was the wrong Esmeralda in the alehouse. If he had asked for another, none would have sent him to me. After we left here, my mother began to call me Emma to keep us hidden.” She added a few more details about working for a wealthy family, a presumably decent and honorable way to make a living.
Aalish listened as Thomas nestled under Emma’s chin. “You dinna seem the type to make a living on her back.”
Emma laughed at the strange compliment. “Thanks, I think.”
“I would tell your tale, but doubt any would wish to hear it. They would think I would do or say anything for anyone who brought Mary to me, and they would be correct. The truth will come out when you behave the proper lass and whispers are spread of your truth.”
Emma sighed. She wished Aalish would blab anyway. Her shoulders slumped in defeat that most would still talk about Esmeralda’s sins as if they were hers. Thomas babbled, and she let the moment drift away. Later, she would fill Cortland in and see what he suggested.
Aalish finished her task and took Thomas back into her arms. “Old Malcolm left early this morn. Will there be a marriage with his demanding daughter?”
What didn’t this woman hear? And how much should I tell? The urge to keep conversation going spurred her on. “I don’t think so, at least not right away. My da said Malcolm was still open to talks even if his wife was against the match.” That seemed like a safe answer that didn’t spill any secrets.
Aalish leaned in and whispered, “The old man must be deaf to miss the sounds of his wife bedding Declan.”
When Emma blinked and jerked back away from the woman, Aalish laughed. “I thought I had heard true on that one. The Lady is like the others and desperate for a younger man to warm her bed. Plus, Declan has never refused an offer, or so the men say.”
Emma glanced around to make certain no one else was listening. “I don’t think a bed had anything to do with it.” She proceeded to share the details that greeted her upon arriving at the keep.
“I had heard that but had my doubts,” Aalish giggled. “Cortland must have been quite angry to walk into that mess.” The woman’s face sobered. “Is there any word on a marriage? I ask nay to fill the day with gossip, but to ken my wee ones will grow up in safety.”
“I wish I had some news for you. All I know is that my da takes the threat very seriously.”
Aalish nodded. “Then he will make certain Declan does his duty. Mayhap the laird will be blessed with a fine wife who stirs his heart. Despite all I have whispered, he is a good man and deserves a good wife. While we enjoy the tales of him bedding all in a skirt, I would prefer it if the man kept his trews around his waist.”
“Why does it matter to you?” Emma asked, surprised at the serious tone in the woman’s voice.
“The men love a good tale of prowess, but I ken Declan to be a decent man with a large heart. When Mary lived here, he came every day from the first day she was placed in my care. He held her, watched her sleep, and tried to fit a whole day into the minutes he had to spare. Any man who can love a child so deserves a good woman to give him more wee ones, ones he can raise in his home.”
Though she tried, Emma had trouble seeing the good father in Declan. The only time she had seen him with Mary, he had barely spared the child a glance. Emma only said, “Cortland hopes for the same thing.”
Aalish nodded and again stared hard at her. “We have lost most of the morning to laundry and our t
alk. Tell me, Emma, what tasks did you do for the family you served?”
Emma didn’t miss the challenge in the woman’s tone. “The basics: cooking and cleaning.” She wanted to add something about training the sons but didn’t think it was a good idea to push her luck.
“The lasses will be looking for a meal soon, as will this one.” Aalish swooped the child into the air, which resulted in a burst of his giggles. “What did you prefer to make?”
“Soup. I make really good soup,” Emma answered confidently. She followed Aalish into the stone cottage.
Chapter 4
The sun dipped late in the afternoon sky, and Emma raised her voice to be heard over the distance. “Come on, Mary. It’s time to go.” Emma smiled at Thomas and laughed as he babbled a mimicry of her words. Placing a kiss on his nose, she said, “You are funny.” When the child leaned in for more, she kissed his chubby neck with loud smacks.
“Do we have to leave?” Mary whined before she reached her side.
Inspecting the girls’ physical appearance, Emma said, “Yes, we do, or there won’t be any dirt left on the ground. What were you two doing?”
Aalish added, “‘Tis a wonder we could even tell you are the lasses we seek.” With a glance at her daughter, she said, “Brina, say farewell to Mary. You are heading for the tub.” She turned back to Emma. “My thanks as always. It has been a fine few days in your company. Shall we look for you on the morrow?”
Emma had never meant to spend every day in the village and then every evening with Mary. It had just happened. She had been disgusted by how Mary seemed an afterthought given the constant activity at the keep. No blame had been assigned in her mind, just disgust. Dinner in the great hall that first night had sealed the deal. Mary had practically fallen asleep at her plate, and no one bothered to do anything, so Emma did, just as she had every day since. Meggie was grateful, Cortland was pleased, and she again had a reason to get out of bed.
Mentally stepping back into the conversation, Emma said, “We’ll see you tomorrow.” The pure joy that shone on the girls’ faces made it all worthwhile, that and Aalish’s obvious happiness.
After goodbyes had been made, a small dirty hand was wrapped within hers. Emma asked, “Why are you laughing?”
“Brina hates the tub.” Mary giggled.
“I hope you like it because that’s where we are headed.” They walked up the hill to the keep.
“Why?”
“Because today is our fifth day together, and no one has properly bathed you since I arrived. You desperately need a bath. Looks like that’s my job too,” Emma answered cheerfully. “But first I want to stop at the training field and say hello to my da.” She also wanted to watch the men train. It wasn’t the same as actually doing it, but she loved the action.
Walking around the far side of the stone walls, she found Cortland standing on the edge of the field. He smiled and waved when he caught sight of her. “How was your day in the village, Emma?”
Mary’s small voice answered the question. “‘Twas a fine day. None called Emma a whore when they spoke of her to me.” That the child beamed as if that were high praise knocked the air from Emma’s lungs.
Crouching before Mary, Emma scolded, “I don’t ever want to hear that word out of your mouth again.”
“But I dinna speak it. Some of the women used the word before when they asked about you. None used it this day,” Mary whispered as her gaze fell to her feet.
Pulling the girl in for a quick hug, Emma said, “I’m not angry with you. The women should be ashamed for talking like that to you.” When Mary gave her a tentative smile, Emma said, “Just don’t say it again, please.”
Emma rose and faced Cortland. “Looks like I’m making progress.”
Cortland put his arm around Emma and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Are you fine?”
“Things are getting better. Two women actually said hello without scowling at me. Besides, Aalish is great, and we get along very well.” For the first time in ages, Emma had a friend her own age.
Running his hand over Emma’s damp, unbound hair, Cortland mocked, “Here, I was afraid she had poured a bucket on you.”
Rolling her eyes, Emma said, “She washed my hair after I washed hers. It was a bonding moment.” The confused look on Cortland’s face made her laugh. “I liked the smell of her soap, so she washed mine too. I think it’s how lasses make friends.”
Cortland leaned in to smell her hair and placed a kiss to her temple. “You are correct. There is a fine aroma.”
Blushing at the compliment, she still wasn’t sure how to take one from a father figure, so she abruptly changed the topic. “How are the men today?” Her gaze wandered to the pairs of men engaged in mock swordplay. The air rang with the clash of weapons, groans, and some light laughter.
Her trained eye caught the change in the men compared to the day before. “What did you do different today? There seems to be a bit more enthusiasm.”
“I am pleased you see what I do. Declan is returned from the Campbell clan and trains with them. That is enough to motivate most as he determines their place. Though there are a few men I will have words with later. It does none of us any favor to have them shirk their training when the laird is absent.”
On the training field, Emma saw several men who worked noticeably harder. In her mind, she saw push-ups and burpees. Picking up Mary, she pointed to the far left side of the field. “There is your father.”
Emma watched Declan battle; his strength was obvious with every swing of his large claymore. That his feet moved with grace to dodge his opponent earned her respect. The poetry in his movements had her heart beating rapidly, though she wanted to believe it was only due to his capabilities and not for his raw beauty. Declan did more than use brute force. Her gaze switched to his opponent who met every blow with one of his own. The two men were a match in height and build. Even across the distance, she could see a slight resemblance between the two, though in her eyes, Declan’s looks were unmatchable.
Her body tingled with the remembrance of when he had pulled her to him in the main hall on her first morning. Shock, heat, and electricity had raced in her blood. It was the only time her hormones had danced in delight, and it made her wonder what it would be like to hold him in return. She had fought against touching his dark hair that shimmered by the light in the hall. She now regretted not seizing the opportunity.
Realizing that Cortland waited for her to speak, she cleared her throat. “Who is he fighting?” She had met all the men who trained under Cortland, but she didn’t recognize Declan’s adversary.
“You have a keen ability to see, daughter,” Cortland praised. “‘Tis his cousin, Merrick. Do you remember my speaking of him?” The question was delivered lightly but carried an undertone.
Mary squealed with excitement over the man’s arrival, and Emma mentally thumbed through the extensive amount of information Cortland had shared with her. Merrick was Declan’s cousin, the son of his Uncle Glenn, the man who sought to take the Draig title and lands.
She remembered that Merrick and Declan had been great friends as children and into young adulthood. Merrick’s mother had died when he was small, so he lived on Draig lands for a number of years. When his father, Glenn, remarried, the stepmother’s family had Merrick written out as the heir to the small land holdings. There was currently a great deal of speculation as to Merrick’s loyalties. Rumor had it, Merrick served the purpose as a spy of sorts for his father, but nothing had ever been proven. He was still welcome, so they could keep an eye on him and sometimes feed him false tales. Emma knew also that Cortland liked the man and hoped he would one day choose an honorable path.
“Merrick is one of the few who can stand against Declan.” Emma heard the high praise in Cortland’s voice. “Their skill is equally matched as is their drive to best
the other. I will introduce you at the evening meal.” Looking again at Emma with Mary on her hip, he asked, “What will you do now?”
“Since you won’t let me do what I want, I’m taking this one to the baths.” Flashing him a quick irritated look that he laughed off, she added, “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”
“While I’m certain you could teach these men a trick or two, it will have to wait until the morrow. I will wake you at first light so we can have the field alone.” Cortland grinned. “The clothing you asked for is in your chamber. I despise a late warrior, Emma. Be ready.”
Placing Mary on her feet, Emma wrapped her arms around Cortland and hugged him hard. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait.” His arms reached around and held her close. She was the first to let go.
Lifting a hand to cup her cheek, Cortland said, “I thought that would please you. Head to the baths before the men are dismissed, or you will have to wait.”
Taking Mary’s hand, Emma turned to leave.
“Emma, leave your hair unbound for the evening meal,” Cortland said.
The request seemed odd as the women either braided or bound their hair at all times. “Why?” she asked.
“I shall explain later. Trust me,” Cortland said. He turned back to the training and corrected the form of a young man.
~ ~ ~
As Emma tucked Mary into bed, the yawning girl asked, “One more story, please?”
“You’ve already had two tonight. Go to sleep, or you will be too tired to walk all the way to the village in the morning,” Emma said, tucking the ragdoll beside Mary. She had already given her the unabridged Beauty and the Beast and an edited version of an old fairy tale her grandmother used to tell her.
“Will we truly go back to the village on the morrow?” Her eyes drooped as she asked the question with sleepy excitement.
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