AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Six
Blair
Blair sniffed and wiped her eyes while she walked down the dimly lit halls. She didn’t know where she was going, only that her feet were taking her away from Alisa and deeper into the castle. She ignored the curious gazes of the servants passing her and turned down a dark hall. Everywhere she turned, everything looked the same. She tried to return to the courtyard through the kitchens, but Cook ushered her into another room, saying she was in the way. Pausing, she wiped away her tears and inhaled deeply, trying to calm her pounding heart and swallow the sobs attempting to burst through her.
She should have never come to this place. It was a mistake. She should have stayed in her familiar cottage, where her best memories with her Mamó were kept. She should have known she never would be welcomed in a place like this.
Blair followed the hall, stepping onto a spiral staircase until she emerged on the battlements. She pressed a hand to her brow, shielding her eyes from the sun while another clung to her shawl as the wind whipped around her, making her locks scratch against her cheeks and her skirt tangle around her legs. Leaning against the wall, she looked out into the field, not caring that rain had started falling, chilling her cheeks with each drop. She watched a man ride his horse from the gate into the pasture, wishing she could join him in escaping this place and the people who had already started to hate her.
“What are ye doing up here?”
Blair spun around, finding a soldier stalking towards her with a dark scowl marring his burly face. He reached for her, but Blair dodged his hand as worry made her heart leap into her throat, wondering what he would do to her and if she was to be punished for being somewhere she was not meant.
“Apologies, sir,” she said while bowing her head. “I am the laird’s guest. I fear I do not know where I should be at this time.”
“The laird’s guest?” The soldier looked her up and down, and the shrewd gleam in his eye made it known he did not believe a word she spoke. He reached for her again, grabbing her wrist and tugging her towards the tower. “I don’t know how ye got up here, but the laird has no time to deal with beggars like yerself. Especially during wartime.”
“I’m not a beggar,” said Blair while trying to tug her hand loose. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I assure ye, I speak the truth. I am the laird’s-“
Blair paused as Laird MacBean appeared within the tower’s entrance, crossing his arms while he looked between the two. The soldier didn’t release his hold of her as he bowed his head. “My laird,” he murmured.
“Release her,” said Laird MacBean, walking towards her and readjusting her shawl around her shoulders.
The soldier did as told, his mouth hanging open, wanting to say something, but Laird MacBean quickly added, “Ye may return to yer duties. I will show our guest back to the main keep.”
“Yes, my laird.”
Blair fidgeted with her fingers, hearing the footsteps of the soldier fading away. The rain was coming down harder, and she followed the laird back inside the tower and down the staircase towards the hall.
“I think this was a mistake,” she murmured when she reached the final step. “I think ye should take me back. This was wrong from the very start. I don’t belong here.”
She lifted her gaze, finding the laird’s green eyes watching her. “Ye will do no such thing,” he said after several moments. “I don’t often make mistakes, lassie. And bringing ye here is one of the best things I could have done.”
“But—“
“I need a healer, and ye have the natural gift for it.” He took her hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. There was a glimmer of adoration as he looked upon her. One Blair didn’t think she warranted as they hardly knew each other. The laird must have known how familiar he was with her as he quickly dropped her hands and straightened himself. “Ye must study and become the clan’s next healer so ye may aid me in curing my cough. In return, I will match ye with a suitable husband.”
Blair nodded, knowing this was the best she could ever hope for. Her future before was limited with no father to arrange a marriage, no family to look after. At least this way, she wouldn’t be alone anymore. She grimaced, recalling the way Alisa treated her, the way she looked upon Blair as if she were a rat she wished to squash with her foot.
“Do ye remember the way to yer room?”
Blair picked at her nails while she shook her head. She gnawed at her bottom lip, knowing she shouldn’t speak of Alisa’s treatment of her or the fact she was never shown to her rooms and had been wandering around aimlessly, not knowing whether to leave without saying goodbye or not.
“Then, follow me,” said Laird MacBean while taking her hand and placing it on his elbow, as if she was a lady and not a peasant. “I’ll help ye back and have the maids draw ye a bath. We’ll have to have ye fitted for some new dresses, but I’m sure we can find at least a couple lying around here somewhere for ye to wear until then.”
“Thank ye, my laird,” Blair murmured while following him through the hall. She tried to memorize every stone wedged between the cracks, every torch lying on the walls. She wanted to memorize every detail, to get acquainted with her new home, but the castle was like a maze—a dark, dismal maze with hardly any light to guide the way.
She felt as if she had fallen into her Mamó’s tale, and there was no way of escape.
* * *
Blair shivered as the maid behind her scrubbed her back with the bar of soap. The water in the tub was hardly warm and growing colder by the minute. The maid scrubbed her skin relentlessly, and Blair was worried her flesh would soon break and blister. She clutched her legs and buried her forehead into her knees as another servant girl worked on her hair, washing the dark, matted strands.
“Good golly, lassie,” said the maid hovering above her. Blair lifted her gaze, finding the woman picking at her hair, staring shrewdly at the locks as if they offended her. “Have ye ever bathed before?”
Blair didn’t say anything as the maid behind her giggled. She dug her nails into her calves, concentrating on the pain rather than the embarrassment creeping into her cheeks. She didn’t know why she felt so mortified. She bathed quite often and didn’t think anything was wrong with her looks.
The maid hovering above her grabbed her hand, clucking her tongue at Blair’s neatly clipped nails while the door opened, revealing a servant girl carrying dresses folded in her arms. “Whatever are we to do with ye?”
