Chapter Four

Lach was the first to come up and shake Bryce’s arm. “Thank you for what you did for your clan today.”

Bryce glanced over at Dorie, who was petting the dog. “I would have been happier to take over their stronghold by force. The McCurdys are a blight on the Highlands.”

“I don’t disagree. But at least this way it ends with no one’s blood spilled.”

“That’s not true.” He nodded toward his bride.

Lach snorted. “I know ye did not take the lass in the woods. Where did you cut yourself to supply the blood?”

“My leg,” he admitted with a smirk. It was good to know Lach didn’t think him coarse with his new wife.

“I hope you’ll find some happiness with the lass,” Lach said, serious now.

Bryce walked away, knowing that wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t allow it. Other men—men like his father—were able to move on to the next wife as if the first didn’t matter. As if they were interchangeable. One warm body for the next. But Bryce wasn’t that kind of man.

There’d only ever been one woman for him. And that was all there’d ever be. Dorie would never take the place of Maggie.

“Let’s go,” he said to his bride as she waited at the edge of the group.

He led her out of the bailey toward the village. His cottage sat on a rise looking out over the rest of the houses, in the same spot his old home had been.

He’d burned the first cottage after finding his wife and child inside dead. He couldn’t imagine living where they’d died. While they’d been gone for nearly ten years, his new cottage was only built last fall, in preparation for this possibility.

He opened the door and waited for her to go in. When she didn’t, he went first. The dog came in with her.

“This is your home now,” he said, holding his hands out. “It’s not a castle, but it has what you need.” He pointed to the large pots and stores of food on the shelves. “Food.” Then he pointed to the bed in the side room. “Bed.”

In the main area there was a large stone hearth and two chairs. A small bookcase held a few books he’d acquired from his aunt. Dorie went to them and touched their spines reverently.

“There are plenty of windows to let in light and air. You catch a nice breeze up on this hill.”

She nodded and stepped into the bedchamber. There was a trunk at the end of the bed to hold her things. Not that she had any things. He’d best remedy that.

“I’ll see that you get shoes and new gowns. A brush, I suppose. If there’s anything else you need, you can let me know and I’ll see to it.” Though he wasn’t exactly sure how she would let him know since she didn’t speak. “I hope you’ll be happy here,” he said and turned to leave.

When he stepped out of the cottage and closed the door behind him, he heard a screech, similar to the sound an animal makes when in pain. A moment later there was banging on the door from the inside.

He opened it to find Dorie throwing herself against it. As soon as she saw it was open she rushed outside and stood in the dying sun, her chest heaving and eyes wide with terror.

“What the bloody hell?” he muttered as he went inside to see what had scared her. Perhaps a mouse or a spider. The dog was stretched out on the rug by the hearth making himself at home. “What is it? What scared you?” he asked, but of course she didn’t answer.

Her silence was fast becoming an inconvenience. When he tried to get her back inside she wouldn’t go. He thought she might resort to biting him again so he backed off.

“This is your home now. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but it’s where ye must stay.”

He thought his words would reassure her, but instead she looked all the more panicked. She didn’t want to stay inside? Perhaps she was daft as her brother had said. But he’d seen intelligence in her eyes. He’d been able to communicate with her, without words.

For the life of him, he didn’t understand what she was trying to convey now. He just wanted her to go inside so he could go back to the castle and find his bed. Getting married and spending time with Dorie had opened his wounds. He needed to be alone for a time.

He walked inside again, and eventually she came in. She propped the door open and stood close by it. He passed her and made to leave, but she quickly ran out of the cottage before he could close the door to keep her in.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered when realization dawned. She was afraid of being trapped in the cottage. “Did the bastard keep you locked up?” he asked.

She didn’t nod, but the way she looked away told him the truth of it. She was afraid of being imprisoned in her new home.

“Look here,” he said, going to the door. “It locks from the inside. You canna be locked in. See?” She watched but stayed back. “I’m going to go inside, and you try to lock me in.”

He heard her try the latches, but he opened the door and walked out. “I promise you’ll not be locked inside. Can you trust me?” he asked.

She clearly struggled with the thought of trusting him on this, but eventually she went inside. He waited for her to close the door herself and then he waited. She opened the door and came out. Calmer this time.

“You can come and go as ye please. I would suggest you keep the door closed so you don’t get pests inside, but you can open it at any time.”

She nodded and pointed to him. Then pointed inside. Their silent communication was working again.

“Nay. I stay at the castle. I’m the war chief so I have to be close if I’m needed.” This wasn’t exactly true. Lachlan would have let him live with his wife if Bryce had wanted to. His cottage was not far from the castle; he’d be able to get there quickly if called. But the excuse was handy so he used it.

She pointed to herself and then toward the castle.

“You stay here. I’ll check in. You’ll be fine.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving his new wife alone.

He’d done his duty. He’d married her. He’d provided a home for her as well as food and anything else she might need. He wouldn’t feel guilty that he was leaving her.

He wouldn’t.

“Damn it to hell.” Instead of going up to the castle, he stopped at the cottage where one of their guards lived. His young son was always looking for things to do.

“Chief,” Gordon greeted him upon opening the door. “What brings ye here?”

“I wondered if your lad might be up for a job.”

“Of course.” He pushed the boy toward the door. He was a thin lad, his face spotted with youth. He’d reached thirteen years last fall.

“I’d like you to deliver wood to my house for my new wife so she has it to cook. Check in on her and let me know if she’s running low in anything.”

The boy nodded, not a big talker. He’d get on fine with Dorie.

Satisfied that he’d done his duty, he continued to the castle without the burden of guilt.

…

Dorie took in her new home. From the farthest room where a large comfy bed sat, it was only eleven steps to the door. She’d taken those eleven steps four times since Bryce left.

Just to be sure the door still opened.

She stopped by each of the windows. They were small, but they opened and she would fit out through the openings. She’d tried that only once. After falling on her backside with a heavy plop, she decided to leave that route for an emergency.

From the far window she could see the castle. She wondered if Bryce could see the cottage from the battlements. She supposed he could if he wanted to, but why would he?

When the sun was gone, she made a fire in the hearth, then went to the storage area to see what she had to eat. Most of the sacks held ingredients, but she didn’t know what they were used for.

She’d never cooked in her life. As a child, she’d been the laird’s daughter and above any form of labor. But then things changed and she was a prisoner. Less than a servant. She’d been fed gruel and stale bannocks.

“Cheese,” she said upon finding it in one of the sacks. Now that she was alone, she was free to speak aloud.

Rascal barked and came over to share her treat.

“Don’t tell anyone I can talk. It shall be our secret.”

She and Rascal shared the cheese. Her companion lay at her feet while she sat by the fire reading aloud to him. The books on the shelves were meant for an adult, rather than a child, as were the books she’d had at her room in Baehaven Castle. Some of the words were difficult to make out, though she was certain the dog didn’t mind when she stumbled over a word here and there.

Soon he fell asleep, his legs twitching as dreams of chasing rabbits filled his scruffy head.

When she could not hold her head up any longer, she gave in and went to the bed. Taking off the straggly dress, she hung it on a peg and slipped under the covers in nothing but her shift. After lying there a few minutes, she got up and went to the door to make sure it opened and she could leave if she wished.

The night chill made her shiver, and she closed the door again. As soon as she snuggled back in her bed, Rascal decided he wanted to go out.

That was fine. It gave her another opportunity to check the door. It still opened.

She opened it a few more times while waiting for Rascal to return. When he didn’t, she got in bed and closed her eyes.

Rascal barked at the door.

She grumbled while getting up once again to let the dog inside. When he jumped up on the bed she told him to get down. Giving up with a whine, he curled up on the rug next to her bed and she tried again to settle for the night.

She was nearly asleep when she felt the bed shift as the dog returned to his spot by her feet. Enjoying his warmth and company, she didn’t protest.

What a different life this was from the one she’d had before this morning. She now had a home of her own and could come and go as she pleased. Her husband said he would provide her new dresses and even a brush.

She hadn’t expected to be pampered, but she looked forward to it.

She also looked forward to spending more time with Bryce. Perhaps this could be a real marriage someday. She hadn’t ever bothered to hope for such things as the love of a husband and children of her own.

But it was still too soon to wish for more. For now she’d just enjoy the freedom and peace.

Her freedom and peace were interrupted the next day when she received visitors from the castle. Rascal barked twice before Dorie heard a knock. She hurried for the door, assuming it wouldn’t be Bryce. This was his house; he had no need to knock or wait outside. Still, she hoped.

She hated the twinge of disappointment she felt as she opened the door and didn’t see her husband. Why would she give a thought to a man who had left her here without another word? Her little cottage felt oddly similar to her room at Baehaven despite being able to walk outside whenever she wished.

However, she was excited to have guests and smiled in greeting as Kenna and Mari came inside. They looked around and she pulled out chairs for them to sit.

“This is lovely,” Mari said. “It looks like you’ve already settled in.”

Dorie nodded, though the cottage was mostly the same as it had been when Bryce had left her the day before. She’d not had anything to add to the furnishings, though a young boy had brought her wood that morning and she piled it in the corner by the hearth.

She looked over her shoulder at the table where she was attempting to make something edible from the stores Bryce had left for her. So far, it hadn’t turned out well.

Mari and Kenna kept the conversation going with little input from Dorie, which was a relief. The sisters were easy to be with. She liked them both and hoped her smiles spoke of her appreciation.

“We’ll leave you now, but we’ll be back to check on you tomorrow,” Kenna promised. That promise turned into fear the next day after Dorie had burned her third attempt at making bannocks.

The smoke caused her eyes to water. She dumped the hardened lumps out in the grass and opened all the windows to air out her home. She couldn’t have the laird’s wife and a former duchess see her failure. They would think her unworthy. Instead she watched, and when the women were approaching, she met them at the bottom of the hill with a basket as if she was going down into the village to make a purchase.

They joined her without coming to the cottage, and Dorie was spared the humiliation. This became her habit each day for the next few weeks.

…

Bryce’s life was back to normal. He woke in his bed alone. He ate the morning meal, trained with his men, rode the borders, and came back in time for the evening meal before going to bed. Alone.

His life was just the way he liked it. He spent his meals conversing with his cousins and their wives just as he always had. When they went off with their families, he was alone once again.

It had been three weeks since he’d left Dorie in her new home and he hadn’t seen her since. He’d hired a woman in the village to make her a few dresses and paid for shoes. According to wee Gordon, she had plenty of wood with which to cook. Bryce had done his duty.

Oftentimes he was able to forget he was even married. That would have been fine with him, except everyone kept asking him how his wife fared.

“She’s fine,” Bryce answered Abagail, the latest person to ask while stitching a gash he’d earned during drills.

“Are you sure?” the healer pushed.

“I haven’t heard that she wasn’t.” If the woman knew something, she should get on with it.

Instead of pushing further, she simply nodded and jabbed him deeper than she had on the last stitch. Surely it was a coincidence.

Later at supper, Lach asked after Dorie as well.

Bryce shrugged and focused on his food. “She’s fine.”

“I haven’t seen her up at the castle since ye wed her.”

If Lachlan wanted some form of answer, he would need to ask a question. Bryce kept eating until the laird tried again.

“I know you weren’t pleased to wed, but it’s not like you to be cruel to a woman.”

This earned Bryce’s ire, and not because he felt guilty. “Ye think me cruel because I did what you asked of me? Provided her a home? Clothing, shoes, food? Saw to her comforts? Mayhap you thought to make a love match. I’m sorry to disappoint you in your matchmaking. I didna ken you had turned into an old woman.”

“I thought you might grow to be friends with her at least.”

“That was not what you ordered me to do. You said it was my duty to wed her. Ye said nothing of being friends.”

Lachlan frowned but gave up when Cameron and their women joined them at the table.

Bryce wouldn’t be made to feel guilty. Especially when he knew Dorie was better off without him in her life. He was miserable; there was no sense making her miserable as well.