Fated Hearts 02 - Highland Echoes (10 page)

He wasn’t as good a man as his mother believed. He hadn’t been thinking about Annice’s happiness as much as he had been his own.

Grace had been living at Sutherland castle for two weeks and she had fallen into a comfortable pattern. She helped her grandmother some in the kitchen in the mornings, through the midday meal. In the afternoons, Grace worked her wool or wove linen ribbon.

Today she stood spinning in the main room of the little cottage while Kristen napped in the bedroom. The door was open to let in the breeze. She was left to her thoughts as she spun. It occurred to her that she hadn’t seen Bram since Sunday afternoon on the headland, four days earlier. She had enjoyed his company more than she cared to admit, and now she missed it. She remembered her prayer asking God to protect her from loving a man who was out of her reach. Perhaps God had finally started hearing her again.

A knock at the door shook her from her musings. She looked up; Michael stood on the threshold. “Good afternoon, Grace.”

“Good afternoon, Michael. Innes isn’t here.”

He laughed. “’Tis ye I was looking for. Ye have visitors.” He stepped aside so Mary and Dugald could enter.

Grace beamed and opened her arms to her friends. “Thank ye for seeing them here, Michael.”

“’Twas my pleasure,” he assured her before leaving.

“Grace, ye are looking well,” said Mary.

“Aye, ye are, lass. Have the Sutherland’s welcomed ye?” asked Dugald, going straight to the point.

“They have. I had to prove that I was Innes’ granddaughter, but once I did, I had no more trouble.”

Mary gave her a sad smile. “I know I shouldn’t have wished it, but a bit of me hoped ye wouldn’t want to stay here.”

Grace hugged her. “Oh, Mary, ye were so kind to me. But my grandmother is extremely happy we are here. She spent so much of her life alone, I couldn’t leave her now for anything.”

“And it’s right that ye should stay here with her,” said Dugald, “but if anything should change, ye know ye always have a home with us.

“Aye, ye do. We’ll be back this way near Michaelmas, just in case.”

“Thank ye, Mary, Dugald. I believe my life is here now, but I would love to see ye anytime.”

They chatted with her for a little while. When Kristen toddled sleepily from the bed room, Grace said, “I would love to take ye around to the kitchen to meet my grandmother.”

“Oh, nay,” said Dugald. “I fear we have stayed too long already. We left the lads with the wagon, in the village.”

“By the tavern,” added Mary, giving Grace a knowing look. “If we don’t go soon, we’ll never get them away and we need to get a bit further along today.”

“We’ll walk with ye to the gates then,” said Grace.

When she had seen them off, with repeated hugs and a few tears from Mary, Grace started to go back to the cottage, but Michael stopped her. “Are they relatives from yer mother’s family?”

“Nay. They are friends. Actually, close friends of my father’s dearest friend. We stayed with them in Durness briefly just after we left Lewis. Dugald is a merchant. He and his family escorted me here on their way to Inverness.”

“And they stopped on the return trip to make sure ye were happy, or to talk ye into leaving with them?”

Grace laughed. “They wanted to be assured that I was well. But, aye, they would have been happy enough for me to go with them.”

“Well, I’m glad ye decided to stay.”

Grace smiled at him. “Thank ye, Michael. Having been separated from Innes my whole life, I don’t think I could ever leave her.”

*

Bram had taken Goliath out for exercise. He needed time alone to think. After the discussion with his father, and then his mother, Bram had tried to stay away from Grace. He had obligations that didn’t include her. It was better if he set all thoughts of her aside. He spent hours convincing himself that this was the right path.

But in the end, despite it being the right path, he just couldn’t follow it.

When he was with her he felt…complete. It was as if he had found something that he didn’t realize he had lost, but once found he couldn’t live without. How could he let that go? He simply could not imagine a future without Grace in it—or worse, with her there, but out of his reach.

As he rode to the gates, there she was, the woman who had consumed his thoughts for days. She stood at the gate chatting with Michael. Although she was likely just passing the time of day with him, seeing them there together made Bram realize that there was something even worse than her being out of his reach. He didn’t think he could bear seeing her in the arms of another man.

“Good afternoon, Michael, Grace.”

“Good afternoon, Sir Bwam,” chirped Kristen.

“Good afternoon, my lady,” he said, grinning at Kristen.

She giggled. “I’m not a wady.”

“Are ye not?”

“Nay. I’m just a wee wassie.”

“Well, my wee lassie, where are ye and yer mama going?”

Kristen looked up at Grace. “Where are we going, mama?”

Grace smiled. “Well, we came to the gate to say goodbye to some friends and now we are going back home.”

Bram dismounted. “I’ll walk as far as the stables with ye.”

Grace shrugged. “If ye wish.” She turned to Michael. “Good day, Michael.”

“Good day, Grace. Good day, sir,” Michael answered.

Bram frowned for a moment. He was rarely addressed so formally by the guardsmen and wondered for a moment why Michael had done it.

Grace took Kristen’s hand and walked toward Innes’ cottage. Bram walked beside her, leading Goliath. “Ye had visitors?” he asked.

“Aye. Friends.” At his questioning look she added, “the merchant who brought me here and his wife. They stopped by on their return from Inverness.”

Before he could find out more, Kristen asked, “What’s his name?”

“Who, pet?” asked Grace?

“Sir Bwam’s horse?”

Bram smiled at her. “His name is Goliath.”

“Gowiaff,” echoed Kristen. “He’s vewy big.”

“Maybe he just looks big to ye because ye are so very small,” said Bram.

Kristen shook her head. “Nay, he’s vewy big.”

Bram laughed. “I guess he is. Would ye like to see what it is like to sit on his back?”

Kristen’s eyes grew big. “Nay. He’s too big. I might faww off.”

“Ye won’t. I promise I’ll keep ye safe. Do ye want to try?”

Kristen nodded, her eyes still wide.

Bram swung her up onto Goliath’s saddle. She held onto the edge of the saddle for dear life. “Don’t wet go.”

“I won’t.” He kept his right hand at her waist. When he sensed her relax a little he asked, “would ye like to ride?”

Kristen shook her head.

“Not even one step?”

Her little brow furrowed as if she considered a very weighty issue. Finally, she gave him a slow nod. “One step.”

He smiled at her and urged Goliath forward one step.

Kristen still looked scared and gripped the edge of the saddle, but she said, “One more step.”

Bram smiled at her and urged Goliath forward another step.

“One more,” said Kristen.

Bram chuckled. “It’s only a few more steps to the stable. Would ye like to ride until we get there?”

She looked at him wide-eyed, but gave him another slow nod. Keeping his hand on her waist, Bram walked Goliath the ten paces to the stable door. By the time he stopped, Kristen had a broad grin on her face. He lifted her down to the ground.

“I wode Gowiaff, Mama,” she exclaimed, throwing her little arms around her mother’s legs.

“I saw. Ye were very brave. What do ye say to Sir Bram?”

Kristen turned to look at him. “Fank ye.”

Bram gave her a small bow. “Ye are very welcome, my sweet, wee lassie.”

He looked at Grace. Her eyes were filled with warmth. “Thank ye. That was very kind.”

Without thinking, he reached out to her, caressing her cheek. “Ye are very welcome too.”

She swallowed hard. “We—we should be going.”

He dropped his hand. “Then I wish ye a good afternoon.”

*

As Grace walked on she realized that earlier she had been seriously mistaken. God hadn’t heard her prayer. She was very much in danger of losing her heart to Bram Sutherland. She should avoid him at all costs. If God wouldn’t protect her, she would have to do it herself. Even so, she couldn’t get him out of her mind.

Unfortunately, that became even harder to do than she thought it would be. Bram walked by the little cottage for the next several afternoons as she worked wool or spun outside while Kristen napped. They chatted about nothing in particular but she began looking forward to the few minutes he spent with her every day.

On Saturday evening, as soon as she had put Kristen in bed, she stepped outside to enjoy the cool evening breeze. To her surprise, he was there, leaning against a nearby building.

“Wh—what are ye doing here?”

“Listening to ye sing.”

“What?”

“I love to hear ye sing to Kristen. I have since the first night I met ye. Somehow, I’m drawn here more evenings than not.”

“Just to listen to me sing?”

“Well, I also hope to see ye.”

She sucked in a breath. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t ye? I thought it was rather obvious. Grace, ye have enchanted me. I enjoy being with ye.”

Everything in her screamed at her to push him away. Now. Before it hurt even more. But she couldn’t. After all, he wasn’t declaring his love for her. He had only said he enjoyed being with her and she felt that way too. Could she just let him in a little? Just enjoy time spent with him for what it was? Finally she said, “I like yer company too.”

His smile was as bright as the midday sun. Oh, it was so easy to look at him. He walked to her, taking her hands in his. “Oh my beautiful lass, for a moment I feared ye would send me away.”

She smiled. “I fear I should, but I cannot.”

“Will ye let me walk the headlands with ye and Kristen tomorrow afternoon?

“Ye must be willing to eat on the ‘gwass’,” she said with a cheeky grin.

Bram grinned back. “I’d like nothing more.”

“Then I will see ye tomorrow.”

She could do this. She could take what he was able to give her and still firmly hold onto her heart.

The next afternoon, their walk on the headlands was wonderful. It felt as if he had been a friend forever. They talked and laughed and simply enjoyed the time together. Yes, this was possible.

During the evening meal, six days after Eanraig sent the betrothal request to Laird Sinclair, the messenger returned. Eanraig’s brow furrowed as he read it.

“He didn’t refuse, did he?” asked Rodina.

“Nay he didn’t, but he didn’t agree either. He says he has promised his children he will consider their wishes when arranging betrothals. Therefore, he would like Annice to have the opportunity to meet Bram before we discuss anything.”

“Well then, it is just a matter of time. Send Bram to the Sinclairs for a visit. What lass wouldn’t be impressed with Bram?”

Eanraig kept his voice low, so as to prevent Bram, who sat at the other end of the table, from hearing. “I mean no offense, Rodina, but ye are his mother and ye only see the good. Since we returned from the MacKays he is surly and bad-tempered.”

Rodina laughed. “With ye perhaps but he knows how to charm the lassies when he wants to.”

Again, Eanraig kept is voice low. “I fear that is the problem. Of late he doesn’t want to charm any lass but Innes’ granddaughter. This is the second Sunday in a row that he has spent the afternoon walking the headlands with her.”

Rodina frowned. “Surely not.”

“I’m afraid so,” Eanraig assured her. “She is the only lass he danced with on Pentecost, and in addition to walking with her on the headlands, he has been seen chatting with her at Innes’ cottage. If I send him to the Sinclairs, he could sabotage the whole thing just to avoid marriage. Perhaps I should seek a betrothal for him elsewhere.”

“That would be a shame,” said Rodina. “I can’t help but think he will like Annice once he meets her.”

“I suppose we could invite the Sinclairs to come here.”

Rodina nodded. “Perhaps that is better anyway. Since she will be living here, it will give her the opportunity to see her new home. And it will give a little time for this infatuation to run its course, for I’m sure that’s all it is.”

Eanraig wasn’t sure, but he did need some time to find a solution to the problem. “Aye, ye are probably right. I will send a message back inviting them for a visit.”

Eanraig cleared his throat. “Bram,” he said in a voice intended to carry to all assembled. “We have received good news from the Sinclairs.” The grim expression on his son’s face told him that he had been right. “They would like the opportunity to meet ye before finalizing the betrothal so I am inviting them for a visit.”

Bram nodded but said nothing.

A frown flitted briefly across Rodina’s face. “Son, aren’t ye excited by the news? Ye said yerself ye didn’t want to marry a lass who pined for another. Ye can make sure that isn’t the case.”

“Aye, Mother, it’s fine.”

*

Damnation
. Bram had hoped Sinclair would turn down the proposal. He had hoped for more time. With time he might have had the opportunity to get to know Grace better. He might have been able to talk his father into letting him chose his own bride. Still, he had some time. He would do what he could.

The next day, his father asked him to ride with several guardsmen to some of the outlying farming communities to check on the status of crops. It would take three days to do the full circuit. Bram wanted to speak with Grace alone before he left, but she usually worked with Innes in the kitchen in the mornings. Still, he would stop by the kitchen to pick up their provisions and at least see her before he left.

When he reached the kitchen, the usual morning flurry of work was underway. Kristen knelt on a bench, eating a bowl of porridge but Grace wasn’t there.

“Good morning, Sir Bram,” called several of the women.

“Good morning, Sir Bram,” said Innes cheerily.

“Good morning, Sir Bwam,” chirped Kristen.

“Good morning, ladies. Innes, where is Grace this fine morning?”

“Yer lady mother sent for her. Is there something I can help ye with?”

“What did my mother want to see Grace about?”

“Now, lad, ye’d have to ask her that. Yer mother doesn’t seek my approval on her plans for the day.” The other women laughed. “Is there something I can help ye with?” she asked again.

“Nay. Well, aye, I’m riding out to check on the crops for my father. I need provisions for six men for three days.”

“Aye, I know,” said Innes. “Donal has already collected them.”

“Ah, well, good then. I guess I’ll just be going. Kristen, lass, tell yer mama I’m sorry I missed her.” That raised a few eyebrows, but Bram didn’t care.

*

This was only the second time Grace had been inside Sutherland keep. The first time had been exceedingly uncomfortable. Ellie, one of the lasses who served in the keep, had come to the kitchen immediately after breakfast to tell Grace that Lady Sutherland had sent for her. Now Grace stood before her. “Ye wished to see me, my lady?”

“Aye, Grace. I hear you are a weaver.”

“I know the craft well, but I don’t have a loom.”

“I understand ye have a ribbon loom on which ye are particularly talented.”

Grace knew her ribbons were beautiful but humility wouldn’t allow her to acknowledge this. “I do have a ribbon loom, my lady, and I can weave ribbon.”

Lady Sutherland looked at her closely, as if examining her dress. “Ye can weave ribbon and yet ye’ve nothing adorning yer own clothes.”

Grace smiled. “I can’t earn a living if I use the ribbon I weave on my own clothing.”

Lady Sutherland laughed. “I suppose not. What do ye weave with?”

“For ribbon, I mostly use linen thread. I can spin it and dye it myself. I sometimes buy linen thread in colors that I can’t make myself. I can make more varied designs that way.”

“Have ye ever woven with silk thread?”

“Aye, my lady.”

Lady Sutherland held out a strip of deep green ribbon that had a quatrefoil worked down the center in cream and yellow colored thread. “My husband bought this from a ribbon merchant several years ago but I only had enough to trim the neck and sleeves of one garment. I think this pattern would be even more beautiful worked on blue ribbon with cream and using gold thread instead of yellow. Is that something ye could do?”

“Aye, my lady, but I don’t have any silk.”

Lady Sutherland smiled. “Well, I have silk thread but no Sutherland weaver who knows how to work with it. If I give ye some thread, can ye weave a small piece for me so I can see yer skill? Then if I am happy with it, I will have ye weave more for me.”

“Certainly, my lady.”

“If I do have ye weave more for me, could ye have several ells completed soon? In a week or so?”

“Aye, my lady. I might not be able to help in the kitchen as much, but if that is acceptable, depending on how much ye want, I could have it ready for ye.”

“I suspect yer skills are put to better use weaving than washing pots. My oldest son’s betrothed will be visiting us soon and I want it as a gift for her.”

“That would be a lovely gift, my lady. I can work a small piece for ye today and ye can decide.”
Betrothed
? Grace didn’t realize that Bram had been betrothed again. That bit of knowledge hurt more than she had expected it would.

“Excellent. Bring it to me after the evening meal and I will decide.” She gave Grace a spool of each color thread she wanted used and the small piece of ribbon to use as a pattern.

“As ye wish, my lady.” Grace curtsied and left, heading for the kitchens. Even just with linen thread she truly enjoyed creating the beautiful designs she could work on ribbon. The chance to make them using the silk thread Lady Sutherland had given her was something that would normally have thrilled her. However, the fact that her creation was to be a gift for the lass Bram would marry dampened her joy.

When she reached the kitchen, Innes was anxious to hear what Lady Sutherland had wanted. As Grace started to tell them about the ribbon, Kristen tugged at her skirt. “Mama, Mama, Mama.”

“Kristen, ye are being impolite. Please wait.” Kristen frowned but waited until Grace had finished telling the women about the Lady Sutherland’s request. At the mention of who the ribbon was being made for, several women looked surprised but no one commented.

“Thank ye for minding yer manners, Kristen. Now what did ye want to tell me?”

“Sir Bwam is going away for free days and said to teww ye he was sowwy he missed ye.”

Grace felt a blush rise in her cheeks. Perhaps that is what prompted the surprised looks. “Thank ye, Kristen.” She decided it was best to ignore the awkwardness so she said, “Grandmother, I’ll have to work on the ribbon all day if I am to have a sample done for Lady Sutherland tonight.”

“Of course ye will, lass. Go on now and get started.”

Grace took Kristen back to the cottage. Kristen entertained herself just outside the front door, while Grace set up her loom and began the process of weaving. She could see Kristen through the open door.

Sometime after midday, Moyra knocked at the door. “Innes said when ye didn’t come up to the kitchen, she reckons ye were too focused on yer work to realize it’s time to eat. She sent me with a basket for ye.”

Grace looked up. “Thank ye, Moyra. My grandmother was right, I had lost track of time. I love weaving ribbon and the silk thread Lady Sutherland gave me is beautiful.”

Moyra looked at ribbon. “Grace, I don’t think I have ever seen prettier. I think yers is nicer than the bit she gave ye as a pattern.”

“Thank ye.”

“Do ye mind that it’s for Bram’s betrothed.”

“Why would I mind?”

“I thought ye and Bram…well he seems to take a special interest in ye…I thought maybe…”

Grace rolled her eyes. “Bram doesn’t take a
special interest
in me and he is the laird’s son. I know better.”

“Well, he was asking for ye before he left this morning.”

“He probably just noticed that I wasn’t in the kitchen.”

“Peggy wasn’t there. He didn’t ask about her.”

“Moyra, really, I’m sure he just saw Kristen there and wondered where I was.”

“So ye don’t mind that he’s betrothed?”

“Nay Moyra, I don’t mind that he’s betrothed.” Even as she said the words her insides twisted a bit. “It really doesn’t matter who the ribbon is for, I like making it.”

“Well, it is lovely. I’d best be getting back to the kitchen now.”

“And I’d best be feeding my wee lass.”

When Moyra had left, Kristen said, “Gwanny made us a basket, can we cwimb the hiww and eat on the gwass?”

“Not today, sweetling. Mama has work to do.”

“Making wibbon?”

“Aye, making ribbon.”

“Can we go tomowwow?”

“Maybe for a little while. We will see.”

Kristen gave an exaggerated sigh. “Aww wight.”

Grace laughed. “I love ye my wee sprite.”

When they had finished eating, Kristen laid down on her pallet to rest. The morning sun came through the front window of the cottage, but there was less natural light in the afternoon. Grace wanted to work outside in the light, but she didn’t have a small table. There was nothing for it, she dragged a stool outside, put her loom on it, and knelt next to it to work.

She didn’t know how long she had been working like this, when a shadow fell across her work. “What on earth are ye doing, Grace?”

She looked up into Michael’s warm smile. “I’m weaving ribbon for Lady Sutherland.”

“But why are ye kneeling on the ground to do it?”

She smiled. “I need good light and in the afternoon it’s better outside. But I don’t have a table small enough to carry outside, so I had to improvise.”

“Lass, ye can’t work for hours on yer knees.”

Grace shrugged. “It’s the only way I can have the light. Well, that is as long as no one stands in it.” She looked pointedly at him.

He laughed. “I’ll move, but I am going to find ye a table.”

“Ye needn’t bother, Michael. I don’t want to take ye away from yer own work. I’ll manage.”

He shook his head. “I said I’ll find ye a table, Grace.”

“But—”

He waved off her objection as he walked away.

In no time he was back with two trestles and a much smaller board than was normally used for a table. He set it up for her. “Here, now for the love of God get off yer knees. This will work for now. I’ll see about getting ye a proper table that is small enough for ye to move wherever ye need it.”

“Thank ye, but this is fine. Ye needn’t bother—”

“Don’t tell me what I needn’t bother doing. I am in the habit of doing what pleases me and it pleases me for ye to have a table.”

“But—”

“Don’t argue, Grace. Just say ‘thank ye, Michael.’”

She smiled. “Thank ye, Michael.”

She had to admit, it was much easier to work sitting at a table. When it was time for the evening meal, Grace had produced a little less than an arm’s length, roughly half an ell, of fine ribbon.

“It’s pwetty, Mama,” said Kristen.

“I hope Lady Sutherland thinks so,” Grace said as she tucked the loom with the ribbon attached, as well as the spools of thread, into a basket.