Elspeth looked around as she stepped inside, her eyes wide, her lips parted. Sunlight streamed inside through wide windows. The walls were lined with tapestries and paintings in carved wooden frames.
“My children painted them when they were younger,” Ismay told her, noting Elspeth’s fascination with the art. “Ealar painted that one when he was three. He always had an affinity fer art in all its forms.”
Elspeth smiled at the painting of a dog, or…something like a dog.
“Have a seat and I will pour us something to drink.”
Elspeth looked around at the five high-back chairs covered in embroidered fabric, all positioned to face the others. There was a wooden settee with blue cushions in front of an ornately carved hearth.
The room had a family feel. It made Elspeth warm, unlike the warmth of the sun. This heat came from the inside, warming places, like her heart, that had been cold for so long.
Her host returned and handed her a cup of heather ale. She took a seat next to Elspeth and tilted her face to the sun while she sipped her drink.
“How did ye win my son’s heart?”
Elspeth was taken aback. She guessed it was only natural that his mother would be curious. “In truth, I dinna know. I think…” she let her voice trail off. She should not have spoken.
“What do ye think, Elspeth?”
Elspeth pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. What did she know of outright lying? She had tried it a few times and did not like how it made her feel. “I think he gave his heart to me long before we met.”
His mother sat upright and set her cup on the ground. “Speak plainly. What are ye saying?”
Elspeth didn’t know if she should tell his mother these things. Why had she started? It was just that…well, just that his mother felt more like a friend. The kind she could tell anything to…
“He came upon me six years ago and lingered in his hiding place, watching me. He says he returned the next day in the hopes of seeing me again. That was when my father and his men attacked him.”
His mother was quiet for a few moments, enough for Elspeth to count to ten three times. Then, she spoke slowly, measuring every word. “So, ye are saying that ’tis my son’s fault that he was stabbed by yer father?”
Elspeth shook her head, though if asked this same question a few days ago, her answer would have been different. “Nae, he did nothing deserving of his punishment. My father acted rashly—as he had done dozens of times with Roderick,” she added softly, quietly.
“A shame about yer brother, but I’m pleased ye feel that way, Elspeth. Do ye love Logan?”
Elspeth blinked at her and tried to take in the question. It was so sudden and unexpected that it near knocked Elspeth off her feet.
“I…I…”
“Come now,” his mother urged. “’Tis an easy enough question. Has he won yer heart, as well?”
Elspeth hated herself for the burning in her eyes as tears formed. Why was she feeling so emotional?
She nodded, unable to form any words, but finally she did. “Fer so long I hated him. It didna matter if I didna know him. All these years I believed my kin died because of him. Then, when I met him and came to know him more, he surprised me by whohe truly was. I hated myself fer the feelings I was developing fer him. Now that I know the truth, as terrible as ’tis, it frees me to love him.”
Elspeth noted the slight shift of his mother’s body. Her eyes mostly, for they looked away as if with discomfort. Elspeth knew there would be. She had prayed she was wrong.
“There are still so many obstacles,” Elspeth acknowledged, setting down her cup. “But aye, my lady, yer son has won my heart.”
“And ye have clearly won his,” his mother remarked, still looking away. “Logan has never had eyes fer anything but fighting fer the king—as his father had.” She returned her gaze to Elspeth. It was softer than a few moments ago. “I worried that he might never experience the magic of love or have bairns. ’Twould be such a shame, because he has a good heart, as ye know.”
Elspeth nodded, but she felt ill from the thought of Logan having bairns with some lass. She moved uncomfortably in her chair.
“What are the obstacles ye mentioned?”
Elspeth stared at her. “Ehm.”
“Yer brother?” she guessed. “If ye truly love someone, any obstacle can be overcome.”
“’Tis ye,” Elspeth confessed softly. “And yer husband. I know what I am. A Protestant. A Covenanter. The king is verra important to yer family. Though ye are nae longer my enemy, I am still yers.”
