by Fiona Faris
“Oh?” This was news to Neilina, but she was not entirely surprised. “How nice.”
She found her mind wandering off—back to the woods and the secret shack to escape from the present.
“Ye comin’, m’lady?” Davina brought her back to reality. The old woman held the door open for her.
Neilina looked up and nodded, “Aye.”
From the top of the stairs, she could hear deep belly-laughter echoing from the hall. She took a pause to steady her nerves and clear her mind before stepping down. Each step was taken with caution, her head held high, her fingertips lightly grazing the banister as she descended with the elegance and grace of a lady.
The room silenced when her presence became known. She kept her gaze distant, a small, humble smile playing at the corner of her lips. There were four men, including her father, watching her as she walked down the steps. Neilina did not like the attention. She felt as if at any moment, her foot might catch and send her tumbling to their feet. She tried her best to maintain the image that meant everything to her parents—the image that had caught Graham’s attention.
“My how ye’ve grown, lassie.”
A man Neilina did not recognize stood reached his hand out to her. As she took it, she caught herself staring at him. There was something dreadfully familiar about his eyes and features that shocked her and left her with an unsettled feeling. She racked her memory, trying to recall when they must have met.
Neilina’s father, Alastair, answered her question. “Neilina, may I introduce Magnus,” he gestured to the older gentleman now holding her hand, “an’ Robert.” The name caused a sudden jolt in Neilina. Her head swiveled towards the younger man, and disappointment washed over her. “…O’ the McDonnell clan.”
“It’s a pleasure tae make yer acquaintance.”
“Ah, but we’ve met, Neilina,” Magnus’s smile warmed her heart. “Ah long time ago, when ye were still a wee bairn.” He held his hand just below his waist to indicate her height the last time they met.
Neilina caught herself smiling broadly despite her nerves. “T’is a pleasure tae see ye again, Magnus.”
Magnus gave a slight, informal bow. There was a familiarity about him that drew her in and relaxed her. She touched her chest as a light giggle spilled forth in response to his gesture. The joy disappeared when she caught Graham’s eye. She felt as if he was scrutinizing her with his gaze. A self-consciousness overcame her, and all at once, she slipped back into her role, hiding behind a controlled façade.
“T’is nice tae see ye again, Graham.”
“Ye look bonnier than I remember ye.” The way his gaze roamed over her body made her feel vulnerable. He did not look into her eyes. She was careful not to reveal her emotions.
Alistair beamed with pride as he looked at his daughter. “I thought ye could give our guests a proper tour o’ the grounds.”
Neilina opened her mouth to speak before Magnus chimed in, “I’ve seen yer grounds. Don’t force the lass tae such tortures.” He winked good naturedly at Neilina.
“Nonsense,” Alistair said.
“’Tis a delightful idea, Father.”
“Hrm,” Alistair’s expression was one of pride as he nodded in approval.
Neilina caught herself looking at this Robert. When she heard his name, a part of her hoped she would see her tutor standing before her. Instead, she found a stranger, and one with sad, troubled eyes at that.
“Would ye like tae refresh in yer chambers first?” she asked.
“We’ve spent enough time on our arses, lassie.” Magnus smiled and gestured to the door, “An’ I’ve seen this keep plenty o’ times. I’m sure we’ll have nae problem findin’ our beds ourself.”
Neilina looked to her father for approval before continuing forward. He gave a smug nod for her to proceed. Neilina stepped forward, cautious of her posture and pace before the eyes of her father. She knew he would analyze her every word and gesture once they were in private, obsessed with his image of which she was an extension. She was relieved when they were out of his sight and into the open air.
The gathering of clans for the games created an air of excitement. Everyone seemed to move with purpose as they bustled about in preparation. Laughter and gossip danced over the sounds of axes clunking into wood. The smells of meat and bread cloaked the earthy scent of horse manure.
Neilina knew it was expected of her to keep the conversation flowing. “I hope ye enjoyed yer travels.”
“Aye, lassie,” Magnus walked beside her. “As much as we can.”
Every time silence arose, she felt nervous, her mind scrambling to think of something else to say. “Have ye ever visited our lands, Robert?”
Robert looked at her as if she had disrupted some internal monologue. “Aye, when I was a lad.” He grimaced as he said that, his brow wrinkling as if the thought pained him.
“Are ye alright?” Neilina looked at him earnestly.
“Oh, aye,” he swallowed hard, “Jus’ thinkin’ aboot—”
Magnus’s expression was cross, and Neilina was left with the impression she was missing something. “No good comes talkin’ about tha’ past.” Robert gave him a hard look that made the air vibrate with discomfort.
Neilina cleared her throat and linked her arm in Magnus’ to distract him. “Tell me, Magnus, d’ye have any children?” she tried to make small talk.
“Nae,” he wagged his head. Robert looked at Magnus with fury in his eyes. “I had a son, but he died in the battle o’ Dundee.”
Neilina gasped. It was just her luck that her attempts at pleasant, light conversation would turn to this, “How dreadful. My condolences.” Magnus waved with his hand, he smiled, but Neilina could see the pain in his eyes.
Robert was more agitated than before. His face was a dark red, and he looked as if he might explode. Neilina was about to ask him if he was well, when he abruptly stopped.
“Excuse me,” he said. Before anyone could say another word, he walked off and disappeared into the crowds.
“Is he alright?” Neilina asked.
“Aye,” Magnus patted her hand wrapped around his elbow, “He an’ me son were close. It’s still hard tae accept, ye understand?”
“O’ course,” Neilina looked back over her shoulder. Robert was nowhere to be seen, “I apologize fersayin’ anythin’. I didn’t mean tae offend,” she felt her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.
“Ye didn’t ken, lassie. Don’t be embarrassed.”
Still, Neilina feared someone might say something to her father about her blunder. They were almost to where the Games were being set up when Magnus halted and faced Neilina, taking her hands in his.
“Ye mus’ forgive me, lassie, but I should go talk with Robert.”
Her eyes flew wide, “Oh, o’ course,” she bit her lip and looked around, “I can show ye the grounds when yer done.”
“Could ye do me a favor, lassie?”
Neilina nodded, uncertain.
“Can ye tell yer father ye showed us the grounds an’ I was taken by awe,” he made a dramatic sweeping gesture, “When I seen his kennels?”
Neilina laughed at this. “Ye ken me father,” she nodded. His hounds were a special pride for him. “I can do that.”
“Yer an angel, Neilina. I hope Robert’s departure did not offend ye. It’s not ye, I promise,” he touched her chin with a kind gesture.
“Please,” Neilina said, “I understand.”
With a nod to Graham, Magnus took off at a trot, his sword clanking with each heavy step. Neilina went to tuck her hair behind her ear, only to find the neat braids. She felt her cheeks grow hot, now fully aware that she was alone with Graham.
“As ye can see, we’ve transformed the pasture into the grounds fer the games,” Neilina tried to recover, feeling awkward and off balance.
“Neilina,” Graham said, “I’ve seen the grounds.”
Neilina looked up at him. His blond hair and pale skin contrasted against his black eyes. There was a glint in hi
s pupils that made Neilina’s stomach turn. It was difficult to read his placid expression. She struggled to think of something to say.
Neilina followed Graham’s gaze as he looked around. After a moment, he pointed in the distance, “Are those tha kennels?”
Neilina swallowed hard, noting there were no people over there. Everyone was concentrated around the pastures, “Aye,” she said.
“I’d love tae see them.”
Still no smile—no clue to his intentions. Neilina nodded, “O’ course.”
She felt his hand touch the small of her back. A shiver ran up her spine. It was not the tingling anticipation she felt with her tutor the day before; no, it was fear. She felt as if Graham was herding her away from witnesses, and wished she had a way of diverting his attention to a more public arena.
Afraid of humiliating herself further, though, she held her tongue and continued to walk towards the kennels. Her whole body was on edge. Her heart raced. Her palms sweated. She looked up at Graham. His face was a mask.
“I have a gift fer ye.”
“Oh?” A pulse of excitement distracted her from her worries.
“Aye,” he said looking down at her and a slight, grimacing smile lifted one corner of his mouth.
When they reached the entrance to the kennels, Graham paused and withdrew a small package. The dogs barked and yapped their sharp calls behind her. Her fingers touched the twine wrapping the parcel, sending a thrill of excitement through her fingertips. She looked up at Graham, grinning, before pulling at the small knot fastening the gift.
“Ye didn’t have tae bring me anythin’,” she said.
“I ken, but a lass as bonnie as ye deserves gifts.” He touched her cheek, and she felt her muscles stiffen in response.
Neilina looked up and smiled, despite the feeling wrenching in her torso. He was attractive—of medium height, with a lean build—a war hero, and the next Laird of the McDonnell clan. She could not ask for a better match, and yet, something did not feel right.
She diverted her attention to the gift, tearing away the cloth wrapping to reveal a box. Her fingers moved with reverent hesitation to pull up the lid, acutely aware of Graham’s eyes on her. When pulled away the straw inside, her heart fell in dismay.
Cushioned in a bed of straw was a gawdy brooch. She tried her best to conceal her disappointment, knowing it was something she would only wear if forced to.
“Ye dinnae like it,” he scowled.
“Nae, it’s nae that,” she said, trying her best to show her appreciation.
“Ye hate it, I can see it on yer face.” His sudden flare of anger startled her.
Neilina stepped back, her hands and the box moving to her chest. “No, I d-don’t,” she stammered.
“Don’t lie tae me, Neilina,” he snarled in disgust.
Neilina was shocked by his sudden temper. Her hands shook as she pulled the brooch from the box, “No, no, it’s beautiful,” she said, looking at it again and this time forcing herself to smile bright, “Look,” she said, pinning it to her gown, “It’s bonnie, Graham.”
Chapter Five
Neilina survived her night with the McDonnells. Her encounter with Graham left her feeling uncomfortable around him. It was not new to her to have to navigate the wanton moods of men. It was easy for her to justify Graham’s outburst. After all, she did not like the brooch, and she did lie about it. The tense moment made it easy to guide them back towards the keep. However, throughout the rest of the day, she mentally exhausted herself by tip-toeing around him, nervous that with one wrong word, she might offend him once more.
Long ago, she’d accepted the possibility of marrying someone she did not love. Her mother assured her that love was not the most crucial part of a marriage. How a couple worked together to take care of their responsibilities, how they complimented each other within society, and their ability to provide security was more important than even liking one’s spouse. This never sat well with Neilina, but she understood that it was part of her birthplace as a lady. The thought of disappointing her parents further by sabotaging her relationship with Graham was something she wished to avoid at all costs.
It was not just her future at stake, or her parents’ perception of their daughter, whom they already thought of as a bit odd; it was the relationship between the McDonnells and the MacFarlanes that kept her mind focused throughout their dinner together. Neilina was relieved to find herself seated next to the good-natured Magnus. Graham sat across from her, and although he was tense still from her rejection of his gift, he would smile whenever their eyes caught and laugh along with her as Magnus told his dramatized versions of past battles and comical blunders.
By the time she reached her room, she was eager for the next day. She was eager to escape the formalities, the pressures of her family. Neilina found herself escaping into the green of the forest, remembering the peace in the form of water trickling over rocks, and the warmth of the sunshine warming both mind and soul. The last moments with her tutor, which left her uncertain, seemed distant. What she remembered was the ease with which she could talk to him. She looked forward to escaping into her lessons, which seemed like a different world entirely—even if they were to work alongside the comforting fire within the croft instead of the lush wilderness.
Neilina suffered through dear Davina pulling at her hair, eager to have their esteemed guests leave, so she could return to free, flowing locks—and return to herself while it was still possible. She skillfully evaded people, taking the servants’ passages and navigating through the kitchen door to avoid being pulled into a conversation that would eat away at her time practicing French and conversing with her teacher.
It was difficult for her to harbor any resentments regarding her situation when the sun beamed down, and the air was charged with the excitement of the festivities. She found herself bee-lining towards the croft at a pace just beneath a run. Her feet caught beneath her on the grass, still soft from the melting snows and early rains. By the time she reached the small farm, she was out of breath. With hands braced on her hips, she took a moment to collect herself.
“Neilina?”
The sound of his deep voice, calm and grounded, sent sensations racing down her arms and torso. Her face split into a wide grin as she swiveled around to see him walking towards her. She reached her hands up to touch her hair, finding each braid still in place, she let them fall to her sides, fiddling with the folds of her skirt to hide her excitement.
“Yer earlier than I thought ye’d be,” he said.
There was no smile on his face, but she could feel his eyes fixated on her. It pleased her to see his eyes dart first to her hair, and then meet her own. There was a glimmer sparkling there that beckoned a sheepish grin to wander over her lips.
“Aye,” she looked away from him bashfully, “I enjoyed our last rendezvous more than anythin’ they have fer me.” She gestured vaguely in the distance behind her. “I hope ye don’t mind.” She bit her lip as their eyes met. There was a softness in his green eyes that reminded her of the forest.
A restrained half-grin pulled up the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad ye enjoyed it, lassie,” he said, “Yer hair is—,” he paused as his eyes flitted over the intricate braids, “different.”
A moment of self-consciousness passed through Neilina as she instinctively touched the plaits. “Ye don’t like ‘em?” she asked.
“Nae, I didn’t say that,” he smiled. “They’re bonnie, but yer curls suit ye.” He nodded.
This compliment meant more than Neilina could have anticipated. A warmth spread over her chest down to the base of her stomach. They stood there, looking at one another and smiling foolishly before Robert clapped his hands together. An energy she had not seen in him yet seemed to course through him. He looked rejuvenated, and it suited him.
“Come on; I’ve got another surprise ferya since ye found our last trip to yer likin’.”
Neilina nodded in acceptance, trying her best to conceal the inten
se eagerness building within her. Anticipation shallowed her breath as she followed him, ready to see what he had in store for the day’s lesson.
He looked back at her as he picked up a small bunch of goods packed by the doorstep. “Have ye fished before?”
Neilina felt the blood drain from her face as she shook her head in negation. The concept of trying something new in front of him was intimidating. She had seen her father tie knots before, frustrated with the clumsiness of his aging fingers. It seemed complicated, and the last thing she wished was for her instructor to see her as incompetent. Still, the idea of learning anything new—especially from him—intrigued her.
“Follow me,” he said, and she did, taking in his every movement.
