Enchanted Cottage (Avador Book 3, Books We Love Fantasy Romance) (13 page)

Alana smiled.
“I”m here to see Malcolm Forgaill. I understand he is seeking a tutor for his young daughter.”

“Oh, yes, come in.
And your name, madam?”

“Alana Cullain.”

“Very good.” She led her past the marble entrance, passing rooms that looked grand with fine furniture, rooms she could take in with only a glance.

They reached a room at the far end of the house, the study, Alana assumed, where the servant knocked.

“Come in.”

Alana entered the grandest room she had ever seen, a book-lined study with green velvet draperies and oaken furniture.

A young man stepped forward; with light blond hair and medium build, he looked to be Colin’s age.

“Madam.” He greeted her with his hand on her right shoulder in the traditional Avadoran greeting. She responded likewise, catching a spark of interest in his eye, or was that only her imagination?

He held out a chair for her next to his desk.
“Please sit down, madam.” He walked around to the other side of the desk and sat, getting right to the point. “Have you had experience in tutoring children?”

“Sir, I used to tutor children in reading and arithmetic, near my village.”

“Your village?”

“Cairn, sir, south of here.”

“But you have not done any actual tutoring in other subjects, such as spelling and geography?”

“No, sir.”
Despair churned inside her. He would not hire her. Suddenly, the room seemed stifling hot, and she fought the urge to dab a handkerchief across her face.

“Then let me explain what your duties would be, if, indeed, I hire you.”
He held up a hand. “Mind, I haven’t said I would hire you. My daughter is seven years old. Her mother died at her birth, so she has never known a mother. She needs a feminine influence, someone to not only teach her but guide her, enabling her to become a well-bred lady. As it is, she runs around like a
balach
. I want her to realize she’s a girl, not a boy. Of course, I’d want you to teach her subjects of learning, such as reading and arithmetic. You would serve more as a governess than a tutor. Do you think you could manage all of that, madam?”

She gave the only possible answer.
“Sir, I would certainly try my best.”

He nodded.
“Very well, then. I shall employ you on a trial basis, say, for one moonphase. You will live here, of course, and have your own room. I would expect you to dine with my father and me. By the way, my father is away on business, but you will meet him later. You will be paid one silver a moonphase.” He gave her a close look. “Would you accept the position according to these terms?”

Would she ever!
“Yes, sir. And may I say, sir, your terms are quite generous.”

“Well, let’s see how everything works out.
My daughter is staying with a relative now, but you’ll meet her soon enough.” He sighed—or did she only imagine it? She wondered if she had taken on too much.

“Where are you staying now?”

“At the Snow Leopard, sir. I’ve been looking for an apartment….” Her voice trailed off as she realized no further talk was necessary.

“Do you need any help in transferring your things here?”

“No, sir, I have but little to carry.” All of her possessions in one bag!

“Fine.
Then I should like to see you two days after Sacred Day. And that reminds me. You will have Sacred Day and the day after as free days every nine-day.” He stood to signal that the interview was over.

She rose, too.
“Thank you sir. I’m looking forward to meeting your daughter.”

He sighed, and this time she knew she hadn’t imagined it.
“Well, we’ll see how everything works out.”

Alana left Malcolm Forgaill’s house, feeling far happier than she had only an hour earlier.
Realizing the position carried much responsibility, she hoped she would prove capable of handling it. But she would do her best, she vowed, for her very livelihood depended on a capable performance.

She slowed her steps as she headed back to the inn.
Unable to drive Colin from her mind, she knew she would never see him again. Ah, if she could see him just one more time, talk to him, touch him. Tears filled her eyes, and she berated herself for her weakness. She should be happy; she had a position now, employment and a room in a gentleman’s mansion.
This is no time for tears.

Thinking about Colin caused too much heartache, and she deliberately switched her thoughts to Morag Delaney.
She wondered what had happened to the witch.

* * *

Queen Keriam retained the efficient court system established by her father, in which various cities and villages served as centers for trying cases, not only civil and criminal, but on the rare instances of practicing black magic. The village of Cairn lay closest to the court in Sligo, and there Morag Delaney was taken to be tried by druids for using black magic. Enough testifiers, including Maude Mulligan, provided damning evidence against her. After a short trial, the druids found her guilty of the charge.

As a lesson to the people of Avador and to discourage any further practice of the dark arts, the druids took Morag by carriage to Moytura for a public hanging.

On the day of her scheduled execution, thousands of people flocked to the capital.
The crowds gathered at the site of execution at the Plain of Sorrows, outside the city. Mothers brought their children, holding them high to watch the hanging. Vendors mingled among the mobs, hawking meat pies, candies, and other snacks. Excited voices swelled among the people as they pushed and shoved to get the best view. Why, they hadn’t seen such a spectacle in ages.

Rebellious to the end, Morag struggled among her handlers, but a black hood over her head kept her silent.
With a noose around her neck, they hanged her from a tall oak. The body was left there for three days, then taken down and buried in an unmarked grave.

And black magic disappeared from Avador for years to come.

Chapter Fourteen

In the days leading up to his handfasting ceremony, when Donella Furneth would become his wife, Colin kept busier than he’d ever thought possible.
He needed to drive Alana from his mind, yet she haunted his thoughts, night and day. He saw her smile, heard her gentle, soothing voice, recalled her every gesture, and how she’d cared for him during his feverish illness.

But images of her would gain him nothing.
Better to devote his time and energy to estate business.

He kept in frequent consultation with the estate steward, thankful he had a capable administrator in Conall Gawr.
Riding throughout the estate, he realized how much he’d missed this land in the years he’d spent away, serving in the Elegian army. Day after day, he rode from one end of the estate to the other, talking to the tenants, assuring himself that all went well with them.

On this day in mid-summer, he looked out over the green fields, luxurious with summer growth.
The corn grew tall, soon ready to harvest, and other crops flourished in the rich soil. A light breeze brought the sweet scent of peaches, the trees where farm workers plucked the fruit. Bittersweet memories swept through his mind. He recalled his mother supervising the kitchen servants as they prepared peaches for canning, and doing as much work herself, boiling the jars and cutting up the fruit. Peach cobbler and peach pie came to mind, happy thoughts of childhood.

Riding toward the cottage of Henwas Buidhe, he noted the thatching on the roof, old and rotting.

“Yes, sir,” the farmer’s wife said as they stood outside the cottage.
“Fifteen years we’ve had this same thatching. Now it’s rotting and smelly. Oftentimes we hear rats scurryin’ across the roof.”

“Very well.
I’ll have the thatcher replace the cover as soon as he can.”

“Thank you, sir.”

At the home of Malvin Colgain, he spoke with the farmer’s wife, thinking that he hadn’t seen the farmer recently.

“My husband broke his leg two days ago, sir.
He can’t do no work, laid up with a broke leg as he is.”

“The doctor has surely set the leg?”

She scoffed. “Beg pardon, sir. Don’t mean no disrespect. I sent my oldest son to fetch the doctor, but he wouldn’t come. Said he wouldn’t treat no peasants.”

“What?”

“That’s what he said, sir. Pardon my frank talk.”

He tapped his riding crop against his leg.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Very well. I’ll speak to the doctor, make sure he treats your husband.”

“Thank you, sir.”
Yet her lined face held a look of hopelessness.

Fists clenched, Colin mounted his horse and rode off.
He wanted to wring the doctor’s neck. A short ride took him to the doctor’s house, a gracious stone residence bordered by hydrangea bushes and a weeping willow.

He knocked on the door, pacing back and forth as he waited.

An elderly man stood at the open door. “Yes, sir?”

“I want to see the doctor.”

“Sir, he’s having his breakfast. If you’d come back—“

”I want to see him now!”

“Yes, sir. Come in, sir.”

He stepped inside the entrance, realizing this was the first time he’d visited the doctor’s home.
And he hoped it would be the last.

A few minutes later, the doctor approached.
“Oh, Master Duffrey, how good to see you.” He held a chair for him. “Sit down, won’t you.”

“No, thank you, I’ll stand.”
Leaving no room for casual talk, he got right to the point. “Doctor, I want it understood that as the physician in the estate’s employ, you are to serve the tenants, not just the more prosperous families of Ulaidh.”

“Well, yes, of course.
That’s what I try—“

”You don’t try hard enough!
You may recall that Farmer Colgain broke his leg two days ago, and his son came to you, requesting your help.”

“Yes, but
—“

”I’m not done talking!
You are to go to the farmer’s house no later than this morning. I’ll give you his direction, if you don’t know where he lives on the estate. There are other doctors in Ulaidh,, you know, others I can employ.”

The doctor’s face turned red, whether from anger or embarrassment, Colin didn’t know and cared less.

He left, resolved to check on the farmer again tomorrow, to ensure the doctor had set his leg.

Another idea captured his attention.
The tenants all lived in hovels, and there was no better word for their houses. He’d like to tear all the cottages down and build sturdier houses for them, nothing elaborate, of course, but homes that didn’t look as if they would blow over with the first strong wind. He kept that prospect in mind, something to deal with at a later time.

That night, as he prepared for sleep, he agonized over taking Donella to his bed and making love to her, when he cared nothing for her and knew she didn’t love him.
He undressed and opened all the windows, trying to find relief on this scorching summer night.

As the house grew silent and time passed, memories of Alana taunted him.
If only he could see her one more time before his handfasting. Did she ever think of him? Surely she must be living in Moytura now; he wondered how she fared. Was she teaching now? He tossed and turned, but sleep was long in coming. Eyes wide open, he stared up at the ceiling, fighting a greater despair than he’d ever known.
My dear Alana, I love you so very much
.

On the last night before Donella Furneth would become his wife, several of his friends from neighboring estates threw him a bachelor’s party.
Liquor and ribald jokes abounded, Colin drinking and joking with the rest. He drank more than usual, wanting to blot out all thoughts of the approaching ceremony. He went to bed in the early hours of the morning, hoping for sleep, dreading a night like the previous one. Yet he couldn’t drive the knowledge from his mind that later this day, he and Donella would be joined in marriage.

Piercing bright sunlight through his windows woke him later that morning.
He opened his eyes and groaned, his head bursting. Tempted to go back to sleep, he knew it would do no good to stay in bed. Sitting up, he moaned, holding his head. Long minutes passed, then he dressed and left the room.

Plodding down the stairs, he headed for the smaller dining room, where the family always ate breakfast.
He poured himself a goblet of tea, his stomach rebelling at the thought of food. He wondered where his father was.

One of the servants came to set a tray of breakfast rolls on the table.
“Sir, your father has been asking about you. I’ll tell him you’re up.”

Sipping his tea, Colin looked up as his father entered the room.
He looked more upset than Colin could remember.