Scarlett stayed where she was. She didn't slump. She didn't let out the breath she was holding. She watched him go, her gaze fixed on the broad line of his back until he disappeared through the gates.
She looked down at her sketchbook. The wall she’d been drawing was a ruin of black streaks. The charcoal had smudged across the paper where her grip had tightened, dragging the image into a blurred mess.
She stared at the ruined page for a long moment, her thumb tracing the edge of the paper. Then she gripped the corner and turned to a blank page.
CHAPTER FIVE
It had been two days since Scarlett’s clash with Robert in the gardens, and the memory still had a way of creeping back at the most inconvenient times. Every time she lifted her charcoal, she saw storm-gray eyes glaring back at her from the page, no matter what she tried to sketch.
So she kept to the garden, where the roses and herbs were quiet company, and let her drawings soothe her. It was easier than facing the rest of Gundor, faces she hadn’t yet met, but Mary would have none of it.
“This willnae do, Me Lady,” the older woman scolded gently that morning, tugging open the chamber curtains and letting light pour in. “Ye’ve been out among flowers and parchment long enough. The clan waits to meet ye proper, and they willnae be kept waiting forever.”
Scarlett had groaned into her pillow, protesting that she was perfectly content to stay hidden a little longer. But Mary wasrelentless, bustling about and pulling gowns from the chest until Scarlett admitted defeat.
So now, smoothed into fresh skirts with her hair neatly pinned, Scarlett let Mary guide her toward the great hall. Her pulse thrummed as they reached the heavy doors. She braced herself for silence, for suspicion, and for the cold stare of strangers who might never welcome her.
Instead, as the doors opened, a wave of sound and warmth rolled out to meet her.
A woman with russet hair and merry eyes stepped forward first, bobbing a quick curtsy. “Me Lady, welcome. We’ve heard nothing but fine things since word of yer wedding reached us.”
Scarlett blinked. “Fine things? From whom?”
The woman winked. “Och, ye’d be surprised how fast news runs through kitchens.”
Scarlett laughed, the tension in her chest easing. “Then I hope the kitchens like me, else I’ll never eat again.”
A ripple of laughter ran through the hall.
It was then another woman slid up beside her, tall and quick-smiled, her dark hair tied in a messy knot. “Ye must be Scarlett,” she said, slipping her arm into Scarlett’s as if they’d known eachother for years. “I’m Katie, the healer here. Ye’ll hear folk call for me if they’ve a cough, a bruise, or a bairn on the way.”
Scarlett smiled. “It’s lovely to meet ye, Katie.”
Katie leaned closer, and her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “And if ye need anything yerself, Me Lady, ye come to me. I mean anything. Even if it’s about matters of the bedroom.”
Scarlett’s eyes widened, and heat rushed into her cheeks. “Uh... aye.”
Mary, trailing just behind, caught the words and gasped. She reached out, swatting Katie’s arm with mock severity. “Shame on ye, speaking such to the Lady!”
Katie only grinned wider, rubbing the spot Mary had struck. “Och, I’m only trying to be helpful.”
Mary shook her head, exasperated but smiling. “Daenae listen to a word she says, Me Lady. Her head’s full of nonsense.”
Scarlett pressed her lips together, trying and failing to smother her laugh. “Nonsense or nae, I’ll remember where to find her.”
Katie’s grin was triumphant. “See? Already wiser than half the folk here.”
Before Scarlett could reply, a broad-shouldered man with a weathered face stepped forward. His plaid was pinned neatly, and his stride firm but welcoming. He bowed low before speaking.
“Me Lady,” he said warmly, “I’m Mack. Been with the McLarens longer than I care to count. Let me be plain, our Laird’s a lucky man.”
Scarlett’s blush deepened, but she managed to meet his kind gaze. “Thank ye, Mack. Ye make me feel most welcome.”
“Aye, and so ye should. There’s nae doubt in me mind ye’ll bring strength to Gundor.”
A murmur of agreement rose among the people, and Scarlett’s chest tightened with something she hadn’t expected... relief.
She glanced at Mary, who gave her a gentle nod of encouragement, “Told ye, they’d love ye.”
