Anna nodded, though she felt a flicker of doubt. She had, indeed, worked at a florist for a hot minute during her college years, but that consisted mostly of sweeping the floors and making deliveries. Her actual experience with arranging flowers was limited to say the least, and most of what she remembered involved being scolded by her boss for putting the wrong flowers together.
She pushed the doubt aside. After all, how hard could it be?
“I’m not promising a miracle,” she cautioned, getting up from the bench and relieving Aislinn of the sorry bundle.She prodded at the wilted blooms thoughtfully. “But I think I can do better than this.”
The relief on Aislinn’s face was enough to steel Anna’s resolve. Emeric might be avoiding her, but she could still help his sister out, couldn’t she?
“I’ll need to see what wildflowers you’ve got growing locally,” she said. “Could you show me?”
“Of course!” Aislinn exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with renewed vigor now her crisis was being addressed. She grabbed Anna by the hand and started dragging her towards the door. With a last glance back, Anna saw Lady Hildie exchanging a bemused look with Laird Douglas before she and Aislinn ventured out into the chilly Highland air.
The cold wind whipped through their hair as they stepped outside, the ground still glistening from the rain that had lashed down during the night. The sky above was painted with brooding gray clouds that promised another downpour, but for now, the sun pierced through in spots, casting an ethereal light over the late summer fields.
Aislinn led Anna through the castle gates and along a well-worn path that meandered around a small glen, then up a gently sloping hill. It was there they found a meadow—a riotous bloom of colors. Poppies with their fiery heads bobbed gently in the wind among the swaying blues and purples of cornflowers and harebells. White daisies dotted the field, their sunny yellow centers filled with dew.
“Here we are,” Aislinn said, spreading her arm out to encompass the scene. “We have, well... everything.”
Anna breathed deeply and took a moment to take it all in—the vibrancy of the colors, the orchestra of bird songsand rustling leaves playing in the background. She was struck suddenly by how capricious this place was, the Highlands changing their mood as easily as the unpredictable weather. She’d seen this place’s dark side when she’d gotten stuck in the bog, its cold fingers seeming determined to drag her down into oblivion, but now she was seeing its light side, its beauty and playfulness.
“It’s lovely,” she breathed.
Aislinn laughed and took Anna’s hands. “I’m glad ye like it. Over here.” Aislinn pulled her towards a patch of thistles, a strange choice for a wedding bouquet, but Anna remembered reading somewhere about their significance in Scottish folklore. Their prickly purple blooms would certainly add an interesting contrast to any arrangement.
“And we definitely need some of these,” said Aislinn, bending down to pick some delicate sprigs of heather. “They’re considered good luck.”
For a while Anna and Aislinn lost themselves in the flower picking, moving from one patch to another, gathering armfuls of the fresh blooms.
A little later, Hildie came out to join them and when Anna was satisfied they’d gathered enough blooms, the three of them sat down in the long grass and began weaving bouquets, Anna doing her best to remember what she’d learned in the florist’s shop as she instructed the others.
In the quiet rhythm of their work, a peace settled over Anna and her hangover began to lift. Hildie sang a soft Gaelic ballad, the lyrics carrying on the wind, and for an instant, everything else faded away—the castle’s loomingstone walls, the fact that she was lost in a time not her own. Even the argument with Emeric.
Their work was very messy at first, with most of their efforts being discarded. Eventually, though, through trial and error and a lot of laughter-inducing mistakes, the first arrangement began to take shape. It was an unconventional mix—thistles standing tall in proud purple among clusters of scabious and harebell, a few sprigs of delicate heather woven in for good luck.
As Anna held up the bouquet, Hildie and Aislinn clapped their hands in delight.
“I canna believe it!” Aislinn said. “Ye’ve made something so beautiful out of such an utter disaster.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Anna said, holding the bouquet out for Aislinn to take. “After you’ve all been so kind to me.”
Anna watched as Aislinn tenderly cradled the bouquet in her hands, stroking the petals as if they might turn to ashes at any moment. She saw the glimmer of tears in Aislinn’s eyes and knew there was more to her sadness than just the sentimentality of a bride-to-be.
“What is it?” Anna asked softly. “What’s wrong?”
Aislinn didn’t answer immediately, choosing instead to watch a lark dip and weave through the air above them. When she finally spoke, her voice was filled with an echo of the same pain that Anna had glimpsed in her eyes.
“My father should be here,” she said quietly, her fingers tracing the delicate lines of the heather blooms. “He should be part of this.”
Hildie, who had been silently listening, reached out to touch Aislinn’s hand. Her voice was soft and soothing asshe spoke words in Gaelic that Anna didn’t understand, but seemed to bring comfort to Aislinn.
“Where is he?” Anna asked softly.
Aislinn met her gaze with a teary stare. “Gone,” she said softly. “Died nearly ten years ago when I was but a lass. Drowned when his boat sank in the loch.”
Anna’s heart clenched and she squeezed Aislinn’s arm. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I cannot imagine what that must be like.” Her own father might be in a world of his own most of the time and barely notice Anna’s existence, but at least he was still here. How would she feel if he wasn’t? It didn’t bear thinking about.
Gently, Anna got to her feet and began to gather the leftover flowers scattered about, giving Hildie and Aislinn some privacy. She could hear the soft cadence of Hildie’s voice comforting Aislinn and something like envy shot through Anna’s veins. These people were poor by modern standards, with none of the luxuries she was used to. Everything they had, they had to work for. And yet, they were closer, happier, than Anna’s own family had ever been—finding comfort and joy in simple things. It was strange to think they had what Anna, with all her twenty-first century luxuries, had never been able to find.
A drop of rain fell onto Anna’s shoulder, followed by another on her cheek. Looking up, she saw that the patches of blue sky had been swallowed whole by ominous gray clouds.
