Chapter 14

Keeping Up Appearances

“Everythin’ will be fine, husband,” Holly assured him. “It will be fun.”

“The last thing it will be is fun,” Ragnall huffed. “I cannae think about anything else except for Fraser. How can I stroll around the village when he might attack at any time?”

“Eric told ye to do this,” Holly reminded him.

“Aye, and I still think he is wrong. I’m doin’ this for ye, and nae him.” Ragnall stopped in the courtyard and grabbed her by the shoulders. “If ye keep up like this, I might think ye are a witch.”

“A witch?” Holly frowned.

“Aye, for the spell yet have cast over Eric and … aye, Eric. He willnae let me go anywhere by meself, and all of a sudden, he informs me that it is a good idea to go into the village with ye. What did ye whisper in his ear?”

“I wish I had that power,” Holly admitted. “The most I have spoken to him is half a dozen words at a time. He might have agreed to this, but it has nothin’ to do with me. I have nay idea what is goin’ on in the castle. What did he say about it?”

“It was me mistake. I went to him thinkin’ that he would refuse the request and I could blame it on him so as to nae disappoint ye, but he thought it was a good idea. He has scouts surroundin’ the castle and village, so they will sound the horn if a stranger tries to get in. He thought that me bein’ more active in the village would help calm the people. They are on edge, and if they see me walkin’ around, they willnae think there is any trouble. He said the same about ye. That it was wise to have ye out in a public setting. That it would bring faith to the people.”

“Maybe he isnae so bad, after all,” Holly relented.

“I’m startin’ to doubt his decisions,” Ragnall admitted. “I dinnae ken if he’s as concerned with the safety of the castle as he is with makin’ a fool of me.”

Holly looped her arm through his and held it tight. “Come on, it’s nae that bad. So, ye havenae been out for a while. Ye’ll be fine once ye are out there.”

“It’s nae about bein’ out there or nae, it’s about this.” Ragnall pointed to his face.

“Yer scars?” Holly asked, shaking her head. “Ye are imaginin’ things, that’s all. Ye thought I was starin’ at yer scars when ye first met me, and I wasnae really. I ken it might feel like it, but people arenae starin’ at ye.”

“They are. Believe me,” Ragnall insisted. He shrugged out of her grasp. “Listen, I ken ye are just tryin’ to help, but ye dinnae ken what it is like, all right? People ken what I did, and they ken it was the right thing, but they see me with me scars, and they link them with death, and they are scared of me.”

“Och, it’s all in yer head.”

“Stop tryin’ to play it down,” Ragnall said sternly. “Och!” He rubbed his temples.

“Hey, it will be fine,” Holly said, removing his hands from his head and trying to calm him.

She had not known the Laird for long, but she had never seen him like this. She did not like it.

“It willnae be fine,” the Laird gritted out, then turned away from her.

Holly placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him back around to face her. She placed a hand on his scarred cheek, hoping it would help to show that he had nothing to worry about. The look in his eyes told her his pain went deeper than the superficial scars.

“Ye can talk to me,” she said.

Ragnall looked around the courtyard. A footman was sitting on an upturned crate in one corner, munching on an apple, but he was too far to overhear their conversation.

There was a look in Ragnall’s eyes that Holly had never seen before.

“It makes me feel weak, all right?” he confessed, shaking his head. “It’s stupid, and I’m a dobber for feelin’ this way, but I cannae help it. When they look at me and step back in horror, it makes me feel like I cannae protect me clan. They should look at me with pride, but they look at me with pity. Like they are the ones who need to help me instead of me bein’ the one to help them. Ye have made me feel like goin’ out again, but the more I think of it, the more I want to go back inside.”

Holly didn’t know what to think. She had never heard a man speak like that before. When she thought about it, she had never known a woman to be that vulnerable either. She wanted to wrap her arms around Ragnall and comfort him.

That will be the last thing he would want.

She had just started getting to know him better, but after what he had told her during the night and seeing his vulnerability before her, she felt closer to him. She felt there was hope.

He didn’t want her pity or consolation, but he did need her support. Holly wanted to be out amongst the villagers, but she had a new goal. She wanted them to see the man she had begun to see.

“Ye have to fight,” Holly insisted. “This will never compare to what the Sutherlands did, but they took everythin’ from ye, and with little hope, ye came back, and ye took what was rightfully yers. Ye cannae go back into the castle, or else ye’ll be runnin’ from the fight. It doesnae matter how bad it is out there—ye hold yer head high, and ye show them ye willnae be beaten down. I was scared of ye until ye showed me who ye really were.”

“Och, ye are a witch,” Ragnall said angrily. “I dinnae like yer words, but I am compelled by them.”

“Good,” Holly uttered.

She was still shaking a little. She had gotten to know her husband, but that did not mean she was not fully unafraid. She had pushed him and was thankful the pushing had worked and did not backfire on her.

She did know him better, but she did not fully know him yet. He was a man who had walked through fire and come out on the other side, having lost everything and become scarred for life. That scarred a person emotionally and mentally. It could affect him at any time if he kept it all bottled up.

“I’ll accompany ye to the village, but I will only promise this once. Is that a fair deal?” Ragnall asked.

“Aye, it is a fair deal,” Holly replied.

She had her work cut out for her, but she had raised four younger sisters, so introducing herself to the villagers would be easy.

Holly looped her arm though his again, but he did not shrug her off this time. They walked through the archway at the edge of the courtyard and into the village.

It started quiet, with no one on the road, but the sounds up ahead spoke of festivities.

A woman stood in her front garden, tending to some parsnips. She poured a little water over each white sprout, taking the time to give care and attention to each one. She looked up as Ragnall and Holly passed and smiled at them. As quickly as she smiled, she looked down.

Holly saw the look in her eyes before she looked down. She could not compare exactly, but she was sure it was the same look she’d had when she met the Laird for the first time. She felt ashamed, and then she felt angry. She knew exactly what the woman was thinking, but there was nothing that could be done to convince her otherwise.

I thought the same when I first met him, and I had to get to ken him afore I started changin’ me mind.

It would be impossible to have everyone talk to him and get to know him, and it would take time. This was not a problem that was fixed in one afternoon. Still, they were headed to the market in the village, and that lifted Holly’s spirit.

The sounds got louder as they reached the market, and Holly could not wait to check the stalls and talk to some people. She’s been cooped up in the castle since she had arrived, and it was a blessing to be out. She loved being around people, and she knew if she got to talk to some of them, she could endear herself to them. If she could do that, she could make some headway with the Laird, too.

“Oh, sweets,” she sang upon seeing the stall. It must have been the seller Mirren had spoken of. “Can we get some?”

“Aye, here is some coin.” The Laird handed her a small pouch.

“Well, ye shouldnae look so dour about it, Ragnall. They are for ye and yer sweet tooth.”

“I see one of Eric’s men. I need to speak with him and find out how the people of Eston Village are faring after the attack. I will be back in a moment.”

“Aye,” Holly said, remembering that it was not all fun and games. There was still real life to think about, too.

She didn’t let it get her down too much. Sure, there was Fraser to worry about, but there was also a day to enjoy, and she was surrounded by the villagers, Eric’s men, and her husband. They were all as safe as could be based on what she had been told. Fraser would not mount an attack on the village or the castle—he did not have enough men. He would wait until the Laird was alone, or worse, try and sneak into the castle to kill him.

Holly shook the thought from her mind. She glanced at Ragnall on the way to the sweet stall, and she noticed how much bigger he looked than everyone else. The sword on his belt was bigger than most of the children running around. His shoulders were broad, his back muscled, and the ends of his black hair curled in the back. He might be afraid to be seen in the village, but he was a man who would cut down man or beast on the battlefield.

“Good day,” Holly said to the woman behind the stall.

“Good day, Me Lady,” the woman replied. “I’m Agnes Dewar.”

“A pleasure to meet ye, Agnes. I had to come over when I saw ye here,” Holly said. “Mirren Chapman told me ye make excellent sweets.”

“Och, she likes to flatter.” Agnes waved her hand. She was trying to downplay it, but it was obvious she respected Mirren’s opinion.

“What do ye have for sale today?” Holly asked.

“Me sugar plums are the best around here,” Agnes responded. “The secret is an extra pinch of anise for more flavor. It’s nae a very well-kept secret, seein’ as I tell it to just about everyone. They are free for ye today as the Lady of our clan.”

“That is very kind of ye.” Holly smiled. “I will try two, but I insist on paying for some.”

“Nay, ye must have them for free,” Agnes insisted. “As a welcome present.”

“They arenae for me,” Holly said. “I will taste them, but the Laird is the one with the sweet tooth.”

Agnes looked at Holly and laughed heartily, shaking her head a little. When Holly stared back at her blankly, the woman stopped laughing.

“I dinnae mean any offense, Me Lady. I just… ye were makin’ a joke, were ye nae?”

“Nay, it wasnae a joke,” Holly replied. “The Laird has a sweet tooth. I baked him a pie, but… I dropped it accidentally. This is to make up for it.”

“Pies and sweets,” Agnes said in disbelief. “Well, I never. How many sweets do ye want?”

“A dozen,” Holly replied.

Agnes handed her two sugar plums for tasting and then scooped a dozen into a small paper bag. Holly handed over the coins and thanked her.

“I have a feelin’ I will be back here for more sweets,” Holly said. “Are there more stalls ye recommend I visit?”

“Oh, there are so many,” Agnes stated. “Hamish is an excellent weaver, and Mary makes baskets. Brodgar is our blacksmith, Grant runs the apothecary, and Fingal is an excellent potter. Ye ken, I cannae choose between them all. I ken it would mean a lot to the people of the village if ye spoke to them all.”

“Then that is just what I will do.” Holly beamed.

She thanked Agnes again for the sweets and went off to find Ragnall.

“How is the other village?” she asked when she found him.

“Fine,” he uttered. “There’s nae much we can do except let them heal, but everyone else is on edge.”

Agnes looked past the Laird to the men he had spoken to. They were deep in conversation, as if planning the next moves. She looked over her shoulder to see the sweetmaker speaking with the people at the next stalls, the three of them laughing.

There were two worlds: one of joy and one of fear. They would soon clash, and Holly hoped the joy would win over the fear.

“I got ye these,” she said, handing her husband the small paper bag.

“What is this?” Ragnall asked.

Holly only smiled in response.

Ragnall opened the bag and looked inside. He smiled briefly before he reached into the bag and took out a sugar plum, sticking it in his mouth. He sucked on it.

Holly popped one of hers into her mouth, the sweetness flooding her tastebuds, and then the subtle spices came through—anise, cinnamon, and nutmeg.

“Good, right?” she asked as she sucked on her sweet.

“Aye, it will do,” Ragnall said with another quick smile.

“Come on, we have a lot to see,” Holly told him.

She took his arm again, and the two of them explored the market together.

Ragnall did not talk to many people, save for a villager here and there to ask about someone who was ill or had been hurt. Holly was her usual, charming self, talking to almost everyone and leaving as good a taste in their mouths after their interactions as she had in her mouth from the two sugar plums.

Giggles sounded behind them, and when they both turned around, two children scurried away. Holly felt Ragnall tense up when she took his arm. He kept his head down as he walked.

“We should get back to the castle,” he informed her.

“Just a little longer,” Holly pleaded.

“I dinnae want to be out here any longer,” the Laird replied.

Again, giggles sounded as they walked, and when the Laird whirled around, three children let out small gasps this time before they ran and hid behind some stalls.

“Och, I’ve had enough,” he hissed.

“Hold on,” Holly told him. She crouched down and looked around. “Where have ye gone, ye wee rascals?” She saw a head or two pop up from behind some stalls. The rest of the market seemed to fall silent. “Come on, get back here.”

Very slowly, three children, maybe seven or eight years old, emerged from behind the stalls and walked over to her, none of them looking at the Laird.

“Now, what were ye all gigglin’ about?” Holly asked.

“Dinnae,” Ragnall said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Holly patted his hand before she turned back to the children. “I want the truth from all three of ye.”