To Maura’s mother, however, it was exactly the opposite. The sight of her daughter with her hair a mess and her dress dirtied from the fields outside was almost more than the poor woman could bear. She reached up with one hand and tugged out the braid, yanking Maura’s head back as she did.
“Ow! Ma!” Maura squealed, trying to wriggle free. “Ye’re hurting me!”
“It’s what ye deserve. Imagine going out looking like this fine mess where anyone could see ye. Are ye trying to give yer poor mother a heart attack, girl?” Her mother scolded, straightening the young girl’s head before knotting a much tighter braid in place. “Imagine being nineteen years and ne’er learning how to braid yer own hair.”
“Why bother?” Maura grunted, wincing as her hair was tugged this way and that. “Ye do it for me so well, Ma.”
“Quiet, Maura, I’ll have none of that. You’re no wee lass anymore. Ye’re a woman now.” The braid was finished, and Maura’s mother gave it one more gentle tug for good measure in part to test its strength, and in part out of frustration over the sight of her eldest daughter. “How are ye supposed to be taking a husband when ye go about the place looking like this? No good man will have ye.”
On the subject of marriage, Maura fell suspiciously silent, just as she always did. The subject was a sore one for her, and whenever her mother made a point of discussing it, she always tried to find a way out of it. “Ma, I should tend to my chores.”
“Aye, ye should,” her mother agreed, folding her arms pointedly. For a woman so slight, Edna could be quite intimidating when she tried. “Ye have got a great many responsibilities on yer shoulders, young Maura.”
Clearly, this was one of the many occasions Edna had no intention of allowing the issue to rest. With the matter of marriage on her mind, there was nothing she would allow to get in the way of the conversation. “Ye’re of marrying age now, Maura. How others see you is important. Do you want folks t’think ye’re not worth their time? What if that Campbell saw ye, hm?”
“Ma, we’ve work to do,” Maura reminded her mother, trying to step around her to get to the back rooms, where her younger siblings could still be heard. As if she’d heard her daughter’s thoughts, Edna mirrored her movement and blocked her path.
“If ye weren’t so fussed with yer chores, then perhaps ye’d have the time to take mind of yer appearance.” Edna’s expression softened a little. She was by no means a heartless woman, and she understood her daughter’s nervous demeanor all too well. After all, she herself had faced the same trepidation when she was Maura’s age.
However, she had to try and make Maura understand that this was how things were going to be, no matter how uncertain she was. The Campbells were a good family, with plenty of money and resources, and it was a privilege to even be noticed by them, let alone to be pursued by one for marriage.
Even Maura had to acknowledge just how easy her life would become if Malcolm Campbell—the young widower who had taken a fancy to her—were to ask her to marry. She knew the visits from the debt collectors would cease, and the stress on her mother’s heart would finally lessen. Perhaps her siblings could lead an easier life if she married Malcolm Campbell. Maybe they would never have to know the stress and pressure Maura did.
The door to the back opened and two young children rushed out, calling Maura’s name. Isobel and Angus, the two siblings Maura loved so dearly, circled her like stray dogs begging at the door for scraps.
“Pears!” Angus, who was the younger of the two, spied the basket on the table and scrambled to reach out for it. He was too short, though, and his chubby hands closed into fists just shy of the wicker. “Pears, Maura!”
“Aye.” She smiled, nudging the basket closer to the edge of the table where he could grab it. With a gleeful giggle, Angus dragged the basket down onto the floor, where he and Isobel each picked one and began to eat. Sweet pear juice dribbled down their chins as they bit into the fruit, their cheeks bulging from the strain of huge mouthfuls.
Maura reached down to ruffle Angus’s mop of messy blond hair affectionately. “Mind yerselves. You’ll both be sick again if ye eat too fast.”
The two children mumbled their agreement past huge mouthfuls of pear, and as they went back to their early morning feast, Maura turned to her mother. “Ma, let’s leave this for now.”
Edna opened her mouth once more, as if to argue with her eldest daughter, but thought better of it. She had to agree that not much good could come of it even if she did argue, so instead, she picked up the broom from behind the bar.
“Get to yer chores, Maura,” she said quietly, stooping down to pick up the basket of pears before Isobel and Angus could devour the lot of them.
Maura clung to the broom with a frown, resting her chin on the handle. The importance of this issue was not one that she failed to understand. She was old enough to know the terrifying reality that the debt collectors posed. If her family could not pay the necessary money, the threat of the Inn being snatched from their hands loomed overhead.
The idea of being sold off as a mere transaction, traded like the pears she’d fetched that morning, was something that made her stomach churn. Her life here was by no means luxurious nor easy, and on many a night, Maura would stare up at the stars and wish that she could just run off into the highlands and disappear.
But with that being said, this life was her life. It wasn’t much, but she felt like she could control it, at least to some degree. If she were to marry Malcolm Campbell, would she have that same freedom? Would she be allowed to enjoy those same simple pleasures she had indulged in on her morning walk? Would she have that same privacy, that same peace?
Maura shook herself sternly. Either way, the matter of Malcolm Campbell was an issue she had managed to dodge. Her immediate concern was to clean the Inn for any lodgers who would come through the door that night. After sending her siblings outside to play so they would not get under her feet, Maura began to sweep the floor of the Inn, humming to herself.
She had almost finished cleaning the floors when she heard the creak of the door swinging open. It was too early for her to be expecting customers, so with her back to the door, she assumed it was one of her siblings coming back in.
“There’ll be no more pears for either one of ye if ye don’t let me do mah chores!” Maura called over her shoulder. However, she didn’t hear the whine of disappointment that she’d expected, so she turned to the doorway and was surprised to see a man stood there rather than Isobel or Angus.
The stranger towered over Maura, and with the hood of his cloak pulled up over his head, he made for a rather imposing figure. However, as Maura looked at him, she suspected that he was not one of the debt collectors she’d seen around the Inn before. Her suspicions were only confirmed when he tugged the hood of his cloak back and shook rather unruly auburn hair out of his eyes.
“Mornin’, miss.” He bowed his head respectfully. “Might I be right in thinkin’ ye have a room for lodgers here?”
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Highlander’s Royal Blood: A Steamy Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 15
