“The MacSween name remains one of the strongest in Scotland because we arenae careless or wasteful. We are decisive, and we take action, but we daenae act without thinkin'. Ye can see me point?”
“I’m sure ye daenae believe the Whitmore name to be sullied just because me father has run up a few debts.”
Leo made a low, grumbling sound. “That’s only part of me point.”
They continued walking until they reached a heavy wooden door that Beatrice couldn’t move on her own. Just pushing with both her hands onto it did nothing. Leo, on the other hand, simply pushed it with one hand, his muscles barely tightening through his shirt. The door croaked open. He stood with a foot on either side of the threshold and motioned for her to peek in.
“This is the Great Hall,” he said as she took in the massive room. The ceilings were vaulted and higher than any structure she had ever seen outside of a church. “It’s the Great Hall of me forefathers and the clansfolk that came before me.”
A tapestry nearly the size of the wall it hung on caught her interest, and she stepped further into the Great Hall to take a look at it. The colors were muted, none of the powerful reds she had seen in other tapestries, but within the humble scheme of it all was the essence of what Leo had told her: this was a wise clan, a thoughtful clan. These were not barbarians or brutes or madmen running off halfcocked. The MacSweens understood how to control themselves, how to keep their feet on the ground.
Maybe I have underestimated the Laird. He might be more than a beautiful beast.
She leaned closer to take in the details of the art and noticed a pair of small boots sticking out from underneath the tapestry. She crouched down to inspect them and saw the diminutive wriggle of feet inside them.
Someone was hiding behind the woven cloth, someone doing their best not to be seen.
Leo said nothing, but when Beatrice looked back at him, she saw the tension in his face. This little hidden person was important to him and she guessed who it must be.
“Ye ken what I’ve heard about castles?” she said, rising back to her full height. “I heard ye can find all manner of magicalcreatures within their walls. Fairies and imps just tucked into wee corners and floating around us clumsy humans like they daenae mean to see us.”
A childish giggle sounded from behind the tapestry. Beatrice covered her hand with her mouth, barely containing a laugh herself.
“Effie,” Leo sighed, “ye ken that ye shouldnae be in here.”
The tapestry shifted and writhed as the child tiptoed out from behind it. First, her mop of red curls appeared, then her big eyes broke through. The girl smiled at Beatrice and gave a tiny shrug when she saw her father shake his head.
“Ye were hidden well back there,” Beatrice told her. “If nae for ye shoes, I wouldnae have spotted ye.”
“I came in from the kitchen passageway and kent I’d be in trouble if me father saw me in here,” the girl said, then bobbed an awkward curtsy like she was playing at being an adult princess welcoming strangers to a ball. “Me name is Effie.”
“And I’m Beatrice. I’m very glad to meet ye Effie.”
“Beatrice is a pretty name.”
“Aye, I like it,” Beatrice said, crouching down so she was at Effie’s eye level. “Ye can also call me Bea if ye’d like. Children often do.”
This time the laird did not object to the shortening of her name. Effie nodded, mouthing the full name, then laughing and softly repeatingBea. Her eyes darted back and forth between Leo and Beatrice. Beatrice could see her little mind working behind her bright eyes.
“Ye’re here to marry me father, aren’t ye?” Effie asked.
“Aye, this is her,” Leo answered before Beatrice could say anything.
“I didnae think ye’d be so pretty,” Effie admitted. “I’ll be happy to have a mother.”
Beatrice looked to Leo for guidance. He had not yet instructed her on exactly what role he wished her to play in his daughter’s life and she knew that it was risky to presume anything.
“Do ye like singing and dancing, Effie?” she asked the little girl and received an enthusiastic nod and pirouette in response.
“What about climbing trees?”
“I can climb higher trees than big boys and girls of ten,” Effie boasted.
“Although ye mustnae if I’m nae there to catch ye,” cautioned her father.
“What about playin' hide and seek?” Beatrice moved on quickly.
“I ken all the best places to hide. I’ll show ye if ye like?”
