Chapter 6

6

" I should have warned her ye would be her escort," Kenna said, as she and Braden sat in the great hall, waiting for their guest to arrive.

Braden just shrugged.

I liked how she was with me. Would she have been so open had she known I was the laird she's supposed to tutor?

Kenna shook her head, just as the piper began to play, announcing the beginning of dinner.

"At least she wasn't mad at me. But she looked mortified! I felt so bad," she whispered.

Braden couldn't pay attention to his sister. Roselyn was nowhere to be seen, and he wondered if she really was angry with them and just had a great way of hiding it.

After all, Kenna's letter had meant she addressed a laird so informally. He assumed she was very embarrassed at that. The English and their propriety!

She's prim and proper too. It's hard to see her laugh or joke, but… what if there's another side to her?

Calder entered the great hall and hurried to take his place at one of the trestle tables.

Braden signed to him, beckoning him to the high table.

"I'm sorry I'm late, my laird – I was shoein' the horses. Ye rode Zeus hard these past few days," Calder said, and Braden nodded.

A fine horse, and a fine companion on the road, he said to himself, as Roselyn now appeared in the open doors of the great hall.

Calder was still speaking – something about horse's hooves and new shoes – but Braden's gaze was drawn to Roselyn, and he ignored his friend.

She looked stunning, standing in a shaft of sunlight in the doorway, now dressed in a simple linen dress, with a shawl around her shoulders.

Braden could hardly take his eyes off her. She could not be expected to know the traditions of the clan – the piper at dinner summoning the castle to eat – nor the necessity of apologizing for being late.

None of that mattered, and Braden was quite taken aback by the sudden force of his feelings. He was staring at her, entranced by how bonnie she looked. When she caught his eye, an apologetic look coming over her face. Braden beckoned her forward.

"She's very bonnie," Calder whispered, echoing Braden's thoughts, and Kenna glared at him.

"Enough of that, ye two. Make her feel welcome," she hissed, as Roselyn approached the high table.

"This is yer place," Calder said, pointing to the chair next to Braden, and Braden nodded, rising to his feet, and pulling the chair back for Roselyn, who sat down and smiled.

"I got lost coming downstairs. There are so many corridors and passageways. I found myself in a long gallery of portraits, then in the kitchens," she said, as a servant hurried to pour her a cup of ale.

"Our guest would prefer some wine, please," Kenna said to a servant, as Roselyn looked uncertainly at the fermenting liquid in her cup.

"No, it's quite all right – we make cider from the apples in our orchard. I'll try it," Roselyn said.

But Braden shook his head.

Aye, the English visitor must be made to feel at home. The poor lass cannae drink that filth – tis' nothin' like cider, he thought to himself, and signaled the servant to bring a bottle of wine from the cellar.

Roselyn looked surprised, as though she had not expected there to be wine in such a remote and lonely place. Braden bit back a smile.

She must think we're barbarians. The lawless Scots, with their chaotic life and unchecked aristocracy. Oh, she'd be surprised of exactly how unruly we can be.

He tried to hold in a smirk as a dusty bottle of wine was hastily brought forth, preventing his thoughts from going further down that lane.

But life at the castle was not the uncivilized chaos an Englishwoman might think it to be. The Scots traded regularly with the French, and Braden had entertained visitors from across Europe at the castle – all of whom were offered wine from his cellar.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you," Roselyn said, as the wine was poured, and platters of roasted venison were brought to the tables.

The smell was enticing, and Braden ate hungrily, glad to eat a hearty meal, after life on the road and the journey north. They had stayed in a number of inns, the landlords treating them with suspicion and providing them with meagre fare to dine on.

But at the castle, Braden was laird, and he had ordered an abundance of food to be served that evening. He had just summoned the next set of dishes to be brought, signaling to the servants, who knew precisely what he was communicating, when his mother appeared at the door of the great hall. Braden rose to his feet, glad to see his mother, who had been resting at the time of their return.

"Mother, come and eat," Kenna said, as their mother made her way between the trestle tables, where the other members of the clan rose out of respect for her.

She was a tall, graceful woman, dressed in black, and wearing a long, flowing veil from her hair. Braden went to greet his mother, kissing her on both cheeks.

She gave a weak smile – she had never truly smiled since that awful night, all those years ago, when Braden had seen the terrible look in her eyes as she implored him to flee.

"Braden, how glad I am to see ye," she said, and her eyes glistened threateningly. Was she about to cry?

"They arrived this afternoon – Roselyn, too, mother," Kenna said, as though correcting Braden for not having introduced their visitor.

All in good time, he thought to himself, turning to Roselyn, and holding out his hand.

Roselyn stepped forward, curtsying to Braden's mother, who nodded.

"Tis' a pleasure to have ye here. Kenna spoke so highly of ye in the past, and I hope… well, perhaps ye can help Braden now," she said.

How can she help me? Silence… it becomes familiar. I cannae speak, nae now.

He knew Roselyn's task was an impossible one, even as he did not dare say so to his sister.

"I hope so, my lady," Roselyn replied, glancing at Braden, and smiling.

She was pretty when she smiled. She was pretty when she did not, but in her smile, her face became radiant, and Braden could not help but think her very bonnie. The journey north had given him ample time to study her, and it surprised him to think of her as being unmarried.

She was not even betrothed, but Braden felt certain it would not be long before she was – how could any man resist such beauty? The thought put him in a foul mood. As they had ridden north, his gaze had often lingered on her, and he had even imagined what it would be like to kiss her.

She would probably think me very forward if I were to do so, a barbarian indeed.

"Ye've made a long journey. I hope we've made ye welcome here?" Braden's mother continued, and Roselyn nodded.

"Very welcome, thank you," she replied.

"Yer uncle's still away, Braden. He'll be back within the week, but he sends ye his greetin' – tis' business with northern clans he conducts," she said.

Braden nodded. He appreciated his uncle's help ever since he took over the lairdship. Even though they didn't really know each other very well, he'd always been there with his advice…And Braden was thankful he had raised Kenna the way he did after his father was murdered.

His uncle had also married his mother to protect her from other lairds that would see marrying her as an opportunity to claim their clan.

Braden's mother took her place at the high table, and the feasting continued. There were raised pies, perch and char from the loch, and dishes of vegetables and sweetmeats. Everyone ate their fill, but Braden noticed that Roselyn was more reserved in what she ate, and he signaled to Kenna to offer her something more to eat.

"Oh, it's quite all right, thank you. I've eaten enough," Roselyn replied, smiling at Braden, who nodded.

She's a slip of lass – she needs to eat soemthin' more than a slice of meat and a sweetbread .

Braden had eaten his fill and then more, enjoying the feasting, and seeing his fellow clansmen again.

"Will ye start yer lessons tomorrow, Roselyn?" Kenna asked, and Roselyn nodded, glancing at Braden, who just shrugged. Truly, he felt bad for Roselyn, knowing she'll waste her time at an impossible task.

Also, he had intended to go hunting the next day and had no intention of confining himself to the four walls of the castle. Braden was not the sort of man to stay idly inside. He had no interest in books or learning. How could he have done? His education had been with the sword and bow, and the moors and the mountains had been his study. The same was true of Calder.

"I think so, yes. There's a lot to do, in a short space of time," Roselyn replied.

"Ye made me work so hard when I was yer tutee at Abbey Estate. We were up with the lark and awake with the owls. But I'll always be grateful to ye, Roselyn. Ye taught me so much. It was the makin' of me," Kenna said, and Roselyn smiled.

"I'm glad to hear it. Do you remember anything in particular you enjoyed? Perhaps the laird might like to study other things, too – once his speech returns," Roselyn said, glancing at Braden, who nodded.

Ye'll be lucky, lass. Ye'll nae have me learnin' Latin or playin' the harpsichord. I could teach ye to fight with the sword, or train ye with the bow, though, he thought to himself, wondering what Roselyn would look like with a bow in hand, or a sword at her side.

The thought of it was amusing, if a bit arousing, to picture proper Roselyn wild at practice. He was thankful his sister was now answering Roselyn's questions, trying to shake away the thought of how alluring the woman would be shouldering a bow and arrow or raising a sword in the heat of battle.

"I remember readin' Chaucer and The Canterbury Tales. The characters were so vivid," she said, and Roselyn smiled.

"Yes, it's a wonderful set of tales. My favorite's "The Squire's Tale." What a wonderful romance it is," she said.

Braden did not understand such things. What he knew, he had learned from others, and he was not about to be taught lessons from The Canterbury Tales or the annals of Latin texts. The castle had a small library, but Braden rarely set foot in it, and he had no intention of neglecting his important duties as laird for mere reading.

"Oh, aye, I remember us readin' it together. It was just wonderful," Kenna said, smiling at Roselyn, who seemed to lose something of her formality when discussing such things as literature and learning.

He had not yet gained the full measure of Roselyn, it seemed.

"I think I'll go to bed," Roselyn said, after finishing a second glass of wine.

Braden rose to his feet, offering his hand to his guest, and when she smiled and took it, a shot of electricity rushed through him.

Damn her.

He needed a distraction. He signed to his sister, and Kenna, too, rose to her feet.

"I'm to show ye to yer room. Tis' even easier to get lost in the castle when tis' dark. My brother looks forward to seeing ye again in the mornin' and beginnin' yer lessons," she said, holding out her hand to Roselyn and directing her to the opposite side of the table.

Roselyn removed her hand from him, and he instantly missed her touch. Then, to his surprise, Roselyn waved to say goodbye. He had used that wave several times in her company that day. He felt touched that she had noticed and bothered to repeat it to him. Braden, too, made the sign, watching as Kenna led Roselyn from the great hall.

There's certainly more to her than meets the eye, he thought to himself, wondering what the coming days and weeks would bring.