She busiedherself with pulling back the curtains and stoking the fire, chattering as she worked.
“I’ve drawnye a bath in the adjoinin’ chamber. Mrs. Bard—she’s the housekeeper—says ye’re to join the family for the mornin’ meal, so I’ve brought one of the dresses Mistress Ross finished yestereve.”
Gabriella watchedthe maid’s efficient movements, pulling away instinctively when Aileen came too close. The maid seemed to notice, keeping a careful distance as she laid out the dress—a simple but elegant garment made of deep blue wool, with delicate embroidery at the neckline and sleeves.
“Wouldye like help with yer bath, Me Lady?” Aileen asked, testing the water temperature with her fingertips.
“Nay.”Gabriella’s reply was too quick.
But the maid’sexpression didn’t change. She’d likely been warned about Gabriella’s circumstances.
“I mean,I can manage. Old habits. Been on me own all me life.” Gabriella attempted a smile.
Aileen nodded,understanding beyond her years in her eyes. “Ye’re safe now, Me Lady. But I understand needin’ to do things yerself.” She arranged the towels neatly. “Me ma says that independence is a woman’s true wealth. Just call when ye need help with the dress, then. It laces up the back—even the Laird himself couldnae manage those knots alone.”
The adjoining chambercontained a wooden tub filled with steaming water. Flowers floated on the surface, releasing a gentle fragrance that reminded Gabriella of summer fields. She slipped out of her nightgown and into the water, half expecting to wake up from what surely must be a dream.
The heat soothedthe lingering aches in her body. Two days of proper food and rest had already begun to restore her strength, though she still grew tired easily.
When she emergedfrom the bath, she wrapped herself in a linen towel and called softly for Aileen.
The maid returned,helping her into a clean shift and then the blue dress, her fingers deftly tying the laces.
“The color suits ye,”she commented, guiding Gabriella to a looking glass mounted on the wall. “Brings out the blue in yer eyes.”
Gabriella stared at her reflection,barely recognizing herself. The gaunt face remained, but clean hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. The dress, simple as it was, transformed her from a prisoner to… someone else. Someone she might have been in another life.
“I was often toldthat I looked like me maither,” Gabriella whispered, touching the glass.
Her father had kepta small portrait, now lost like everything else from that time. The only thing she’d known of her mother was the stories her father told—of her kindness; her love of books; her blue eyes, which Gabriella had inherited.
“Didye nae ken yer maither, Me Lady?” Aileen asked gently, brushing Gabriella’s hair.
“She died birthin’me,” Gabriella replied. “And me faither died when I was fifteen. After that, I worked at a tavern until…” she trailed off, unwilling to speak of what came after.
Aileen nodded,understanding in her young face. “Well, I think she’d be proud to see ye now. Ye look like ye belong in this castle.”
Her innocent commentstirred something painful in Gabriella’s chest. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong anywhere.
“The family will be waitin’,”Aileen said, fastening a simple silver pin at Gabriella’s shoulder—another luxury she’d never possessed. “Mrs. Bard says that the Laird was quite insistent that ye join them this mornin’.”
“Are they all there?”Gabriella asked, her stomach fluttering with nerves.
“Aye.Lady McCulloch, Lady Erica, and Mr. Noah, the Laird’s man-at-arms. Ye neednae worry—they’re kind folk. Lady Erica, especially, asked a lot of questions about ye.”
Gabriella followedAileen through corridors that still seemed like a maze. Tapestries depicting hunting scenes and battles lined the walls. Servants paused in their duties to either bow or curtsy as she passed, their curious gazes following her.
The Great Hallwas located in the heart of the castle, a cavernous space with a high ceiling supported by massive beams. Morning light streamed through tall windows, illuminating the McCulloch clan crest carved above the enormous fireplace. A long table dominated the room, though only one end was set for the morning meal.
Gabriella hesitated at the entrance,suddenly wishing she could flee back to the safety of her chamber. Hector looked up and saw her. Something flickered across his face as he nodded for her to come to the empty chair on his right.
Four people satat the table, with Hector at the head. An older woman who could only be Lady McCulloch sat on his left. She straightened, her gray-streaked hair and elegant posture contrasting with the sadness in her eyes.
Across from hersat a younger woman with Hector’s brown eyes, who must be Erica. She leaned forward eagerly, her smile bright and curious. The last person at the table was a pleasant-faced man whose gaze remained fixed on Gabriella, watchful but not unkind.
Squaring her shoulders,Gabriella crossed the hall, acutely aware of every eye on her. The clicking of her borrowed shoes on the stone floor seemed unnaturally loud in the sudden silence.
She reached the table,hesitating at the chair Hector indicated.
