Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The Next Afternoon

The hardest moments for Jocelyn, after spending two days entertaining her future husband, and having to keep on top of her attentiveness, fight her anxieties, and look after her sisters, were the few moments between the Laird leaving, and her making it back to her chambers. With her new freedoms to move about the keep as she pleased, of course always choosing to stay as far from her uncle and cousin's quarters as she could, came the realization that she had to play the part her uncle wanted her to play, even in the halls of her own home. There were always servants, staff, guards, and guests roaming the grounds, and Jocelyn could not be caught off guard in those moments. She was living her life pretending she was cared for, safe, and even during certain moments, happy.

It was utterly exhausting.

So, even after her betrothed had ridden off, and her uncle had retreated to his study, Jocelyn had to remain in character until she could safely close and lock her chamber doors behind her. It was difficult, and the reason she instructed her sisters to stay behind when she stood as part of the send off of Laird Breathnach. She wasn't sure if her choice would anger her uncle or not, but she didn't want her sisters, especially Deirdre to forget and be caught by their uncle or their cousin, not presenting the face they were supposed to around others.

At the send off, Jocelyn was pretty sure her uncle was just as happy to see Breathnach leave as she was. He paid little attention to her, and she wasn't even sure he even noticed that her sisters were not in attendance. In fact, to Jocelyn he looked even more exhausted than usual. She had glanced around several times, but noticed that Bram had not come to say goodbye. He was nowhere in view.

Walking back through the castle, lost in her thoughts, Jocelyn had to admit that it was strange Bram wasn't there. Her uncle was a stickler for tradition, and Bram doing his job, and would have required Bram to be there any other time. In the end, Jocelyn dismissed it as a tension between father and son after Bram had been shut down at the dinner and stormed off. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen him at all since that moment.

As Jocelyn turned the corner to her and her sister's wing of the keep, she let thoughts of her uncle, her cousin, and her pending nuptials flow from her mind. She was tired of thinking about it. She was tired of worrying, and though she knew there wasn't much she could do about that in the long run, she was able to try and relax for a while. Jocelyn had been itching to get her hands on the books she had brought back from the library, and had planned it so that she could spend the day in her room, lounging, reading stories that took her from her dim reality and whisked her away to a fantastical place where she wasn't up for sale, and she didn't have to worry that her sisters would be killed.

Entering into her room, Jocelyn slowly and carefully closed her door and locked it before turning and letting her back fall against it. Her shoulders slumped and her body released as she closed her eyes for a moment and let all of the tension escape her. She was done with that part of the process, at least for a while. When she opened her eyes, she immediately made a plan. With a hurried step, Jocelyn moved around the room preparing for her time of reading. She opened the drapes covering the windows, slipped out of her boots, let her hair down, grabbed the blanket from the bed, and stood at her dressing table, staring at the books.

For a moment, she contemplated which one, but already knew she'd go for her favorite. Stories of dragons and warriors with princesses and love were the stories she had escaped into her entire life. Her mother teaching her to read when she was little was the greatest gift she could have given her. Over the past few years, Jocelyn had even begun teaching Aoife and Deirdre. She knew that in their circumstances, never knowing if they'd truly be safe, if they'd be separated even, knowing how to read and write could come in very handy.

Jocelyn plopped down in a large cushioned chair that she had asked one of the guards to help her bring to her room from the library. It was her favorite chair, and she could remember sitting in it with her father when she was very little. She pulled her feet up and curled in, draped the blanket over her and opened up the book. A smile crept across her lips as the smell of the pages wafted around her. She ran her fingers over the printing, a special type of printing where the letters looked golden. She wasn't sure where it came from, but it had been in the family library her whole life.

With each passing word, Jocelyn slipped further and further from her reality, allowing herself to release the tension she carried with her each and every day. She read for hours, the breeze blowing through her room carrying the sweet smells of grasses and flowers around the space. That day it was even sunny outside, helping to heal the broken threads inside of Jocelyn, one at a time. After nearly half the day had passed, Jocelyn noticed the change in temperature and light, looking up to see the clouds rolling in toward the keep.

She smiled and sighed, closing the book. Jocelyn knew she would have to help wrangle Deirdre before the storm, and didn't want to wait until someone knocked on the door. As she stood, though, that knock came, echoing out as the wind whipped through the space. Shivers moved up Jocelyn's spine as she carefully unlocked the door and cracked it enough to see Maeve's face on the other side. She looked as if she had something important on her mind.

Jocelyn opened up and stepped to the side, watching as Maeve quickly closed the door and took her hand, pulling Jocelyn toward the bed. The maid's rushed movements worried Jocelyn. "What is it? Where are the girls?"

Maeve shook her head. "Nay, I'm sorry. The girls are fine. Deirdre even came in on her own when she saw the clouds in the distance. They are in their rooms and safe. I didnae mean tae scare ye."

Jocelyn was relieved, and her heart began to slow down. Maeve was very loyal to Jocelyn and the girls, and after three years of working with them, had become instrumental in their ability to converse back and forth with their sister, and know what was happening around the castle. Jocelyn wasn't looking for gossip, but instead anything that could cause concern to be careful around their uncle and Bram. Their cousin was always the one they had to watch out for no matter what.

Maeve handed Jocelyn a letter. "It's from Blair. I had made arrangements to go tae the market this morning and she had sent one of her servants. I gave her yours as well."

Jocelyn smiled, quickly opening the letter. Blair's letters had been their only source of hope as they were trapped in that keep, finding it hard sometimes to remember there was a whole world out there. Pulling her knees up, she settled in and began to read the letter.

My Blooming Rose,

Thank you for your last letter. I know how difficult it must be to face your betrothed, not knowing if leaving will fix anything. You have been so brave and strong, and you have to believe that you made the right choice when you made a deal with uncle. But let us not spend this time talking about dark things.

The new baby has hair like yours, brown and straight, and it shimmers in the sun. She is so sweet and thankfully has been sleeping through the night, longer than her older brother even. I can not complain, though. I have everything I need here, and everyone is thrilled to be able to hold the babes, play with them, and keep them occupied as I rest.

I truly believe that if you do marry this Laird, regardless of the hardships you will face being married to someone you do not love, you will find unending joy and meaning with your children. I wish we could have the lives that we want and not be tied to this web of darkness that the prophecy has brought us, but it is just not a reality. I do promise you will find your own kind of happiness.

I know you said that you do not want us starting a war, that you're not willing to have so many die just for you, and Aoife and Deirdre agree. So, I have been frantically trying to think of a way to save the three of you without invoking a war. I have not figured it out yet, but do not give up hope.

We have sent provisions and gifts for you and the girls, along with our allowances for the three of you. I sent some very soft blankets that I found at a vendor in the market. There are some sewing provisions for Aoife, a new pair of boots, skirts, riding pants, and blouses for Deirdre, and a few other small gifts of love. Feel free to use Deirdre's old clothing as rags for washing, or wrapping of food.

Please tell Aoife and Deirdre that I love them very much and I miss them terribly. I will find a way to get us all back together, I promise. Be strong and know that I am with you.

We will speak soon,

Little Rose

Jocelyn folded the letter and held it to her chest, so thankful to Maeve. Leaning forward, she hugged her tightly. "Thank ye so much. I cannae tell ye how badly I needed tae read this today."

Maeve squeezed her back. As they pulled apart, Maeve wrinkled her nose. "If they had picked anyone older tae be yer husband, his parts wouldnae have worked anymore."

Jocelyn gasped playfully and laughed. "I'd almost prefer that."

Maeve shook her head. "Trust me, workin' parts or nae, men will find a way tae be nae better than the pigs in the pen."

Jocelyn groaned. "Well, hopefully he lets us have separate bedrooms. So, found anything else out about our fat farmer groom?"

Maeve tapped her finger to her lips. "Him? Nay. But I did come here in haste because there is something else that happened, something I think ye need tae be careful of."

Jocelyn's heart began to beat faster. "What?"

Maeve looked over her shoulder at the door and lowered her voice. "After the staff had retired fer the evenin' I did me last walk through of the halls tae make sure we didnae leave anything out. As I was passin' by the Laird's study, I heard shoutin'. So, of course, I hid and listened in. Bram was there and he was very angry, screaming at his father. He was stumblin' back and forth a bit and I could smell the liquor on him from the hall."

Jocelyn shook her head. "What was he saying?"

"He called his father weak fer lettin' ye and yer sisters live. He was goin' on and on about the three of ye bein' allowed tae have clothes, nice things, and the freedom tae come and go from the keep on the grounds. The Laird tried tae calm the situation at first, but ye ken how they can fight. This time was worse, though, Bram is much more violent than he was when he was younger. There was several crashing sounds, and I can only assume Bram was throwin' things. Then he shouted again telling his father that the three of ye, and the McFergusons should have been crushed years ago. Then…"

Jocelyn put her hand on Maeve's arm. "Then what?"

Maeve sighed. "There was a part that was muffled like they were tryin' tae speak lower. I couldnae really understand that part. I think they were talkin' about wolves or bears or somethin.' Before Bram stormed out, he told his father that he had condemned them, that he had chosen the murderous Laird's spawn tae live and prosper. He stood in the doorway, swaying, saying that they were going tae lose everything. Then he slammed the door and stomped off toward his room."

Thunder rumbled outside making both Maeve and Jocelyn jump. Maeve quickly stood and smoothed down the front of her apron. "I told the girls they could eat in their rooms tonight. I'm going tae gather up dinner fer the three of ye. I'll be back shortly. And Jocelyn, maybe look at this as a good thing. Maybe yer uncle will finally see the depths of evil that yer cousin truly is. And if nae, ye ken what ye can expect if the worst of things were tae happen. Fer tonight, try tae relax. Ye deserve it."

Jocelyn smiled at Maeve and nodded, watching as she left, closing the door behind her. Walking over to lock the door, Jocelyn suddenly remembered what it felt like to be captive in that small area of the keep, fearful to leave, fearful to even breathe too loudly. She hated that feeling, and she hated even more that it was pretty much all her sisters ever knew.

Figuring she was in for the night, the keep too dangerous to wander around in, especially not knowing where Bram was or what his mindset was, Jocelyn settled back into her reading chair, pulling the blanket over her lap. She stared out the window as the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky danced with oranges and reds, and the moon and stars began to shimmer in the sky. It wasn't very often that Jocelyn allowed herself to be enveloped by the state of her life, but that night she did. The silence of the halls were too much for her, and her thoughts took her through the years. She thought about her mother and father. She thought about his death, and then she thought about the uncomfortable haze of sadness that lingered throughout the keep after her mother's death. Jocelyn thought about Blair, living in her new home, with her sweet children.

"It's nae fair," she whispered, sniffling.

That was such a useless statement, and Jocelyn knew that, but despite being strong for her sisters every day and every night, she had to allow herself to grieve the life she would never truly know. Even getting away from the clan and marrying another Laird wasn't going to afford her a life of love and happiness. It was just a lesser form of prison for her.

Outside in the hallway, something fell, clanging loudly on the floor. Jocelyn jumped, peaking around her chair at her door. There was the sound of shuffling feet and then a loud bang on her door. She jumped again and settled back in her chair, rolling her eyes at her own suspicion. She had completely forgotten that Maeve had promised to bring food up for them. She must have attempted to carry it all at the same time. Chuckling to herself, Jocelyn got up and walked over to the door.

"You ken," Jocelyn said, opening the door and stepping to the side. "The noise level is ridiculous out here. Are you still in one piece?"

As the last of the words left her lips, her eyes met Bram's. He leaned clumsily against the doorframe, holding a tray with spilled food on it. He tilted his head to the side, a smirk on his lips. Jocelyn immediately swung the door to shut it, but Bram dropped the tray on the ground and shoved his way into the room.

"Ye dinnae belong here," Jocelyn sternly stated. "Get out."

She watched as he stumbled into the center of the room, obviously drunk, and looked around. "Awe, isnae this cute. The forgotten ladies, all cozy in their rooms with hand-me-down linens and dresses."

He walked over to her dressing table and picked up several things, sneering before he put them back down. Glancing over his shoulder at Jocelyn, shaking with anger, he laughed. "Drop the act, Jocelyn. I ken ye've been readin' all that nonsense in the library, but ye dinnae have tae pretend with me."

Jocelyn crossed her arms across her chest. "I dinnae ken what you're talkin' bout' and I dinnae care. Get out."

Bram stopped, gently touching a small piece of fabric that was tied around the headboard post. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the colors. He yanked it off the headboard and flapped it in the air, shaking his head. "Ye see? Ye give a woman like ye anything other than solitude in the dungeons and ye let traitors in the keep. This is a piece of fabric from the tapestry yer father had hangin' in here many years ago."

"Just go," Jocelyn replied.

Bram stomped toward her, and by the time she realized he was not playing around, he had his hand on the back of her neck, pushing it down as he dragged her over to the table. He shook the piece of cloth in his hand. "Yer father was a traitor tae his own people. He tried tae kill yer Laird. This is the tapestry of a traitor and nae welcome here."

He tossed her backward and Jocelyn's feet tangled, sending her bouncing on her butt. He grabbed the oil lamp burning on the dressing table and pulled the thin glass from the top. Jocelyn pulled herself to her feet and gritted her teeth, watching as Bram caught the piece of fabric on fire. He laughed wildly, dancing around her with the flaming fabric and over to the window. There, he roared with laughter and threw it out of the window.

She knew he was trying to bait her, to give him a reason to put her on the ground. But she held strong, not letting him see any emotion on her face. Bram walked back up in front of her and smirked. "I told ye, ye're nae gonna get away without feelin' me wrath. Even if ye make it all the way tae yer new clan, ye willnae escape me. Old Breathnach was a fiend fer a quiet and resourceful whore, and is more than happy tae repay me."

Jocelyn raised her eyes to his, gritting her teeth hard. "Get. Out. NOW!

Bram smirked and rammed his shoulder into hers as he stumbled to the door. Before he left, though, he turned back, his smirk gone and his face hollow of emotions. He motioned around the room. "All of this? Well, I hope ye dinnae think this is a victory. I promise ye, ye have nae idea what's coming, but I, sure as hell, have waited long enough."