Page 14 of Enchanted

“I do not know what to say,” Rosalyn said hesitantly. “I suspected I would be thrown in the dungeon as a prisoner of the MacLeods. Why would you care about my comfort at all?”

Gwendolyn pressed the key into Rosalyn’s hand. “You are not a prisoner. You are free to leave whenever you would like.”

Isolde came forward. “I would caution you from departing without a definite plan or a place to go, though. The wilderness of the isle can be dangerous for a woman alone.”

Rosalyn recalled Keiran saying something about Isolde living in isolation for over a year. Perhaps Rosalyn could learn some of the woman’s secrets if she stayed a few days more. “I would very much like to bathe and to refresh myself. Thank you, all.” She hesitated before continuing, “I did not expect such kindness.”

“Let me guess,” Fiona said. “You were told stories all your life about the uncivilised nature of the Scots.”

Reluctantly, Rosalyn nodded.

“We heard the same stories about the English,” Fiona replied with a grin. “Let us make up our own minds about each other, shall we?”

Rosalyn looked at the three women before her—Gwendolyn, Isolde, and Fiona. They did not appear threatening in any way, and if she were honest, she rather liked all three women. They were the kind of women—intelligent, interesting, and open-minded—that she had always dreamed of having as friends. She had never had women she could laugh with, or discuss the issues of the day, or anyone who cared whether she was happy. Friends who would give purpose to her life. Rosalyn swallowed hard, realising all this was happening so suddenly. “I am grateful for your assistance this evening, but as you suspected, I am exhausted. I would very much like a bath and to go to sleep.”

“Will you need any assistance removing that gown?” Isolde asked.

Rosalyn shook her head. She had been without a maid for years and was used to taking care of her own needs.

“Very well,” Isolde replied. “When you are ready, simply place your soiled garment outside your door and our laundress will try to remove the stains and repair it, if you’d like.”

Rosalyn nodded. As the women departed, her throat tightened. This day had not started out well, had been one of the worst in her life, and yet she could honestly say it had ended far better than she ever could have imagined.

Still not wanting to put all her trust in the MacLeods until she knew them better, she moved to the door and locked herself in the chamber. Then, placing the key on the stand beside the bed, she began to remove her dress. The blood had dried, making the fabric stiff as she pulled it over her head, then tossed it to the floor.

The room was warm with the fire and relatively bright despite the deepening darkness outside the window. Rosalyn ran her fingers through her hair, working out the knots and picking pieces of grass and leaves from the mass before stepping into the tub. As she submerged herself in the steaming water, her thoughts returned to the man who had brought her to this place.

She had decided to give the women of Dunvegan a chance to be friends. Should she offer the same to Keiran? Her gaze dropped to the barely discernible scar on her abdomen. She wasn’t certain what he had done to her, but he had kept her alive. No matter what tale he had spun to divert attention from himself, she knew the blood on her dress had been hers. She would never forget the feel of the sticky warmth running through her fingers and her life draining from her.

There was something about Keiran that was different from her brother, and even his own brothers and Lieutenant James Long. Keiran was as strong and commanding as any of the others, but there was another intangible element that drew her gaze more often than she cared to admit. In him, she recognised a part of herself, a part that had been so filled with loneliness there was no more space inside her for anything but pain. But how could someone, who had been raised with a family who was so welcoming and kind, be filled with such despair?

If she wanted to find out why, and to repay Keiran for saving her life, she would have to stay at Dunvegan for at least a short while. At her decision, a sense of exhilaration moved through her. For the first time in her life, she could decide her own fate. She had no idea what it was that she wanted except the freedom to make her own choices.

The fear and trepidation that had haunted her all day was forced aside by a blossoming joy. After washing her body and her hair, she stood and dried herself quickly with the bath sheet Gwendolyn had left nearby, then dressed herself in a shift and a simple rust-coloured dress with tiny gold leaves embroidered around the edges of the bodice and hem. She could have opted for a night rail as she was determined to stay in her chamber, but a dress felt like a safer choice in the house of her enemy.

Idly, Rosalyn traced the embroidery threads with her fingers. The dress was not something she would ever have dared to wear in London. It was too plain for that. But it was the dress’s simplicity that she liked, that and the way it made her feel—like she didn’t have to pretend to be anything but herself.

She was no longer in London. She was no longer under her brother’s thumb. And she was no longer on her way to be married to a man she didn’t fully know and certainly didn’t love. Rosalyn drew a long shaky breath. Not that she was holding out for a love match. She feared the kind of passion that had led to her parents’ deaths. Yet she had hoped to at least share a closeness, a friendship with the person who she would commit to for the rest of her life. Now that she had been spared, at least temporarily, her thoughts drifted back to Keiran and the MacLeods.

Without his knowing it, Keiran had given her back a small glimmer of hope that her life might amount to something. She had always dreamed of running her own household, being the kind of mistress who would treat her entire household with kindness, perhaps teaching the young children of their staff how to read, write, and do basic arithmetic. Their lives would be much improved as a result.

Or were those things only a dream that would go unfulfilled due to her own dire situation? The MacLeods had been very kind so far, but would they allow her to remain with them more than a few days?

With every passing moment, Rosalyn knew she did not want to resume her journey towards marrying Lieutenant James Long. She doubted he would allow her to do anything except be his wife, especially here in Scotland while he served his regiment.

Rosalyn pressed her lips together in thought. Today’s experiences had made her long for so much more. Perhaps on the morrow, she could make good on her promise to teach Keiran how to read. Then she could find other children who might need her help here at Dunvegan. Once she successfully tutored Keiran and others, perhaps the MacLeods would provide her with a reference so that she could venture out on her own as Hugh had never allowed her in England.

A familiar hurt centred in her chest. Damn her brother for never believing in her or allowing her to follow her own path. Rosalyn straightened. If she had learned anything by the day’s events, it was that she was a survivor. She might have had help from Keiran to live through that battle, but she would not take his gift and waste it. She had been given a second chance to live her life. What she would do with it was now up to her.