Chapter 7

7

" I hope we didnae make ye feel uncomfortable tonight," Kenna said, as Roselyn followed her through the maze of corridors and passageways, lit only by the burning flames in the sconces along the walls.

Roselyn shook her head.

"Not at all. I enjoyed the feast. I must say, I wasn't expecting it. And to be served wine, too," Roselyn replied.

She had been surprised by the feast, and the food she had been served. Her father had warned her about draughty castles and spartan rations, but conditions in the keep were comfortable, and the feast had been abundant.

"I'm glad to hear it. Tis' never easy welcomin' guests from the south. But we're nae as barbarous as one might think," she said, laughing, as they came to Roselyn's chamber door.

"It would appear so" Roselyn teased Kenna, but then added "I'm very tired. I'll sleep well tonight. Thank you for everything."

Kenna smiled, her face illuminated by the flickering flame of a torch burning by the door.

"Elena will bring ye whatever ye need. I'm so glad ye're here, Roselyn, and I'm sorry again for nae conveying my messages better through writing," she said jokingly.

Roselyn shook her head and laughed as well before bidding her friend goodnight, closing the door behind her.

The moment she was alone, her mind drifted back to the laird again. His eyes, his touch… Once again she wondered what his voice might sound like, but it seemed that the whole clan was used to his lack of speech.

She had caught Braden casting the occasional sideways glance at her - just as she had seen him do on their journey north. She smiled at the thought, knowing a new woman would be a rarity in such parts.

They're probably all looking at me, she thought to herself, though she found herself wishing Braden's glances meant something more than mere curiosity.

Stop it, Roselyn! You're to teach him things, not…not deflower him!

She blushed and snickered at her own thoughts. Never would a woman be heard of "deflowering" a man. Let alone a man like that. All the girls must have thrown themselves at him, so tall and dark and brooding. Even if she did try to seduce him – which she would most certainly not – it would not be "deflowering," all right.

She suddenly felt a pang of jealousy for any other woman that might have touched the laird before and shook her head. She was treading into dangerous waters, and she should be careful. In fact, as of now she forbid herself of thinking about the laird at all.

She undressed, with very focused movements, and she slipped into her nightgown. Climbing into the bed, Roselyn could hear an owl hooting in the trees beyond the castle walls, and she lay beneath the blankets, listening to the sound of distant voices in the courtyard below – the guards calling to one another at the change of the night watch.

How strange to be here – miles from home and thinking about seducing the – NO! I will not do anything of the sort with the laird. She scolded herself again.

Roselyn yawned, turning over, and closed her eyes. The bed was comfortable, and warm and suddenly the tiredness of the day became very evident to her.

It was not long before she was asleep, her dreams filled with soaring mountains and deep lochs, the romance of the highlands enveloping her in a comforting embrace. Braden was there too, and some sort of deflowering was taking place, but she'd never admit that, even to herself.

Suddenly, the dream was interrupted, and she awoke with a start, sitting up, as a sound in the corridor caused her to let out a cry of surprise. A dog was barking – loud barking, and pawing and scratching at the door.

"Who's there? What's going on?" she exclaimed, for the chamber was filled with sunlight.

She had slept all night, and morning was breaking across the loch. No reply came from outside, but the barking continued, and the dog leaped against the door with an excitable yelp.

Roselyn rose from her bed, hurrying to the door as she pulled her shawl around her shoulders. The dog barked even louder, evidently smelling her presence, and Roselyn had no choice but to open the door, finding herself face to face with a large, fluffy dog.

The creature leaped up at her, slobbering over her and licking her face. It's beautiful golden coat was all muddy and it was impossible to stop him clambering all over her.

"Oh, get off me, you great brute," she exclaimed, though she could not help but laugh as the dog barked again, its tail wagging, as she allowed it to run into the chamber.

It leaped straight onto the bed, and Roselyn was horrified to see muddy paw prints all over the blankets, even as she hurried to pull the dog away.

"I don't know where you've come from, but you can't do that," she exclaimed, even as the dog leaped down from the bed and ran straight to the window, putting its paws on the sill and barking at a bird hovering outside.

Roselyn laughed again, and was about to go in search of Elena, when a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. It was the laird, and he clapped his hands twice, which made the dog come running to him. It sat obediently at his feet, looking up lovingly at Braden, who smiled for the first time Roselyn had met him and patted the dog on the head.

Roselyn would have eyed him suspiciously, asking perhaps why he hadn't done that sooner, but she was still be flushed from her indecent dreams. She focused her gaze on the dog instead and tried to make some small talk. Anything to get that bloody dream off her mind.

"Is he yours?" she asked, and the laird nodded.

He kneeled and patted the creature's head, ruffling its ears and making a fuss of it. Roselyn suspected he had let it loose with the deliberate intention of waking her up. She wanted to be cross with him, but she loved dogs, and the sight of this one brought back happy memories of home.

Roselyn and her two sisters had always had dogs, and she was only too pleased to have the company of Braden's now. She kneeled, ruffling the dog's mane, and the laird smiled again. Two times in a day. If he continued like this, it was obvious what her dreams would be about tonight. She shook her head and blushed once more. What had gotten into her?

"What a beautiful creature," she said, as a way to distract herself, even as the dog turned and licked her face.

The laird laughed, rising to his feet, and gesturing for Roselyn to follow him.

"What? Now?" she asked, and he nodded, making as if to walk away, and beckoning her to follow.

Roselyn was not dressed, and she held up her hand, wanting him to wait, as she closed the door and hurriedly changed out of her nightgown and into a dress. The laird was waiting for her as she emerged, and she blushed under his gaze.

His eyes are always searching, she thought to herself, following him along the corridor, the dog ambling at Braden's side.

It was later than she had imagined, and the castle was busy with servants and clansmen, hurrying back and forth, nodding, or bowing to the laird as they passed. He was certainly well respected, and Roselyn could not help but admire the manner in which he ruled over his clan.

"There ye are, Braden. I was wonderin' where ye'd got to after breakfast. I see ye've met Apollo, Roselyn," Kenna said, emerging from the great hall and ruffling the dog's ears.

Roselyn had been wondering about the creature's name, and she smiled at Kenna, who now looked suspiciously at her brother.

"I think we're taking him for a walk," Roselyn said, and Kenna nodded.

"Aye, but be careful what ye agree to – a walk with my brother isnae a gentle stroll by the loch. Daenae take poor Roselyn on one of yer treks up the mountain, Braden. Remember, she's nae one of us," Kenna said, but the laird merely shrugged.

"I'll happily walk – I like to walk," Roselyn said, for she often walked long distances with her sisters in the valleys around their father's home.

Sometimes, they would go off for a whole day at a time, exploring the ruins of the abbey, or getting lost in the woods and fields.

"Aye, well, daenae allow him to lead ye too far," Kenna said, as Braden rolled his eyes at his sister and took off.

Roselyn followed him out of the keep and into the bright morning sunshine. It was a beautiful day, and she felt pleased to be out in the fresh air. Apollo was tugging at the rope around his neck, and Braden hurried off across the courtyard. The castle gates opened for him, and the guards saluted as they passed.

"I'd like to walk by the loch," Roselyn said, but Braden had already taken a path leading up a slope through the woods, and Roselyn followed, remembering Kenna's words, and wondering just how far he intended to take her.

They walked on for some time, following the course of the path as it rose steeply through the trees. The laird would occasionally glance back, beckoning her to follow him. He had untied Apollo from his lead, and the dog ran ahead, evidently knowing where he was going. Roselyn was out of breath – the mountain path was far steeper than the gentle slopes of the valleys around Abbey Estate.

"Can we stop for a moment," Roselyn said, pausing to catch her breath, but the laird merely beckoned her to follow him once more, raising his index finger, as though to suggest their destination was only a short distance further.

Roselyn followed, gasping for breath, before the path suddenly emerged from the tree line, opening out onto a rocky crag, from which there was a sweeping vista of the glen. The sight was breathtaking, even if Roselyn was now breathless, and she smiled at Braden, who now took a seat on a rock, gazing out at the view. Roselyn sat down next to him, and Apollo came to sit at their feet. To her surprise, the laird pulled a small flask from his pocket, pulling out the stopper and offering it to her.

"What's this? It's not… oh," she said, as the aroma of the whisky struck her.

She thought she saw him bite back a smile, but he soon took a sip himself and offered it to her again. Roselyn did not wish to appear churlish, though she was far more used to drinking wine than whisky. She took the flask and sniffed at the spirits within, which made her eyes water. She took a sip, and the liquid hit the back of her throat, a burning sensation which caused her to splutter.

"Goodness me, how awful," she exclaimed, and the laird gave her a rare, amused smile, shaking his head.

He replaced the stopper on the flask and put it back in his pocket. Roselyn was still grimacing from the taste of what she had drunk, but she took a deep breath, not wishing him to think her entirely incapable of enjoying his pursuits.

"It's a wonderful view. Everything we see is yours, I suppose. I'm glad you brought me up here. It was quite a climb, but worth it," she said, stroking Apollo's soft fur.

The laird made a gesture towards the loch, and then to the distant mountains beyond, sweeping his arm in an arc, as though to suggest the extent of his authority.

Roselyn now took the chance to begin their first lesson. She had been thinking about how to do so, and now she turned to him, holding up her hand and mouthing the words she wanted him to repeat.

"Say ‘It's all mine.' Now you repeat it," she said, waiting for him to respond.

It was not the words themselves she needed to teach him. Braden understood what she was saying, but he could not articulate the words. His speech had been impaired, and Roselyn felt certain it was because of something in the past – the trauma of his father's death. The laird shook his head at Roselyn, who repeated the words.

"Form them with your mouth: ‘it's all mine', like that," she said, and she made an exaggerated attempt to demonstrate what she meant.

The laird looked at her with a mischievous glint in his eye, and Roselyn felt the blush rising in her cheeks – what was he thinking? She did not know if he understood or was merely reluctant to do as she suggested. Again, she formed the words, trying something different, as Apollo rolled onto his back in the sunshine.

"Try to say, ‘the sun's shining,' ‘the sun is shining' like this," she said, mouthing the words.

This time, Braden opened his mouth, but no sound emerged and instead, he merely shook his head and sighed. Roselyn had patience, and she knew it would take time to teach him properly. This was only the beginning, and if the matter had been so simple, she would have had no reason to be there.

"It's all right. We'll keep trying. Perhaps a word at a time. Can you say ‘castle?'" she said, exaggerating the word with her mouth as she spoke.

But Braden shook his head, unable to form the word, even as Roselyn smiled.

"Never mind. Let's leave it for now. I'm quite happy enjoying the view," she said, gazing out across the loch.

A gentle breeze was blowing, and the sun reflected on the crystal waters below. Roselyn was glad to be there, and despite the challenges ahead, she knew she felt certain the laird could be made to speak – all that was needed was time and patience, both of which she possessed in abundance.

I never thought I'd enjoy his company so much.

There was a side to him that appreciated beauty, and as they sat together in silence, with the wind blowing through the heather, and the sparkling waters of the loch below, Roselyn was glad to be in Braden's company, and eager to know more about him.