Had her new husband been sincere in his insistence that Marisse sleep in the tent due to the weather? Or was there something else afoot?
Certain that Marisse had been quite honest in describing how handsome Black Richard was — save for the ugly scar that ran down one side of his face — Aeschene worried he had found her lacking. Lacking in beauty and grace. Certainly a man as handsome as he had bed countless women. Without a doubt, there were probably women lining up at the door of his keep waiting to marry him or keep his bed warm. Women who were undoubtedly far more beautiful and desirable that she. Mayhap ’twas not just the fact that she was lacking or unappealing. Mayhap there was another who had stolen his heart. And he had set the poor woman aside because of David’s order.
“’Tis utter nonsense,” Marisse told her. “If he had someone he loved, he would have married her by now.”
Aeschene wasn’t quite so certain.
Dread filled her heart. She could not help but feel sorry for the woman whose place she was now convinced she had taken. There was no doubt in her mind that were the roles reversed — her heart given to someone only to have their future wrenched away through no fault of their own — she would be crushed.
She tried to sleep, but ’twas impossible for she simply couldn’t stop thinking. Oh, how her life had changed in just one short day! Long ago she had resigned herself to the fact that she would never marry, would never have children or a family of her very own.
Not for the first time did she wonder how different her life would have been had she not lost most of her sight. Her father wouldn’t have lost his adoration towards her and her brothers wouldn’t be so ashamed of her. All save for Tiberius.
A pang of guilt tugged at her heart when she thought of him.
“Marisse, are ye absolutely certain ye wish to go to the MacCullough keep?”
In the stillness, she heard Marisse sigh before propping herself up on one arm. “Of course I be certain. Ye are my dearest friend.”
“But what about Tiberius?”
Her question was met with a lengthy silence.
“Marisse?”
“What?” She sounded both perturbed and hurt.
“I ken ye love him. Ye cannae deny it.” The relationship between Tiberius and Marisse had been budding for quite some time. She didn’t need eyes to prove it. All she need do was be in the same room with the couple for more than a few heartbeats. She had also heard the two of them whispering sweet words to one another, on those rare, stolen moments.
Marisse responded by rolling over and pulling on the fur. “Go to sleep, Aeschene.”
“Marisse, my heart is filled with guilt and I need ye to ken how sorry I am.”
“Why do ye feel guilty?” she murmured.
“Because I am takin’ ye away from Tiberius.”
Marisse sat up once again. “Ye did not take me away from him. I made the decision to come with ye.”
“Ye should have stayed. Ye could have had a beautiful life with him.”
Marisse scoffed openly. “With yer da as my father-by-law, I think nae.”
She couldn’t even pretend to be offended. While she still loved her father and wished with all her heart things were different between them, she understood all too well what a difficult man he could be.
“I swear I can hear ye thinkin’,” Marisse said. “Quit yer worryin’ for tomorrow, ye will begin yer life as the new chatelaine and lady of the MacCullough keep.”
Neither spoke another word the remainder of the night.
Though Marisse had done her best to convince her she was wrong in her way of thinking, doubt still lingered. Aye, Marisse was her dearest and only friend. But Aeschene often worried that their friendship got in the way of complete honesty. Neither of them ever wanted to do or say anything that would hurt the other.
But her family? Nay, they were always honest with her. Never were they possessed with the desire to spare her feelings, no matter the subject. They were honest to the point of causing her pain and heartache. But their intentions, she was convinced, were always for her own good. Her father would never allow her to believe in things that would never happen.
Ye best realize now that ye will die an auld maid, Aeschene, for ye are blind and homely. Do not get yer hopes up for anythin’ else in yer life.
Aeschene had to believe that he told her these things to keep her from a broken and disappointed heart. To keep her from dreaming of things that would never be.
Marisse, however, believed he said such things because he was naught more than a callous, mean-spirited, foolish man.
The two women could never agree on that matter.
There was a time, however, when she was younger, before her eyesight began to fade when her father wasn’t quite so harsh. Back then, he would often look upon her with a fond smile and tell her she would fetch a pretty bit of gold for him someday. She had been a pretty child, with such a light heart and gay spirit. Back then, she had made her father proud.
But she hadn’t grown into the beauty he had hoped for. Nay, she had grown into a sorry excuse for a daughter.
Truly, she felt guilty for it. It saddened her to think she had let him down. First, by losing her vision, and secondly, by never being quite as beautiful as her mum. Marisse thought her ridiculously naive the first time she had shared these feelings with her. If anyone should feel guilty, it should be yer family, Marisse had argued so many times that Aeschene had finally given up on the topic.
Tossing and turning most of the night from worry and self-doubt, ’twas nearly dawn before she finally fell asleep, only to be awakened a short time later by her husband.
Black Richard awoke at dawn in a mood to match his name. Dark and sour from a night spent out of doors sleeping on the cold, hard, and wet ground. All he wanted was to get to his keep as soon as possible so that he might put on dry clothing and enjoy a hot meal. And get as far away from his new wife as possible. Distance would be the only thing to keep him from losing his bloody mind over the pretty lass.
After poking his head into his wife’s tent, his ire grew. They — Aeschene and Marisse — were still fast asleep. While he wanted nothing more than to be on his way, he could not find the strength to wake them. Especially Aeschene; she looked so peaceful, lying on her side with her hands under her cheek. The fur had slipped, leaving one shoulder to the cold morning air. He wanted very much to crawl inside and slip under the furs with her. Marisse, however, might object to such an intrusion.
The inability to disturb her peaceful slumber angered him more than anything. More so than the cold damp that made his clothes cling to his skin. More than the fact he had not had a hot meal since leaving his keep two days ago.
What was happening to his cold, hard heart? How had this slip of a woman softened it so quickly? Were she any other woman, he was certain he would have shouted an order for her to wake and dress quickly.
Were she any other woman, he would not feel so weak in her presence, even though she was sound asleep.
Were she any other woman…
“How long will ye let them sleep?” ’Twas Lachlan asking that particular question. Black Richard let the flap of the tent fall closed. Lachlan looked just as cold and road weary as he.
Not wanting to appear anything less than his usual self, Black Richard glowered at his cousin. “I was just about to wake them.”