Page 28 of His Highland Duchess
“Would you?” Aurelia brightened. “Please do!”
“Please!”
She laughed as she came in beside the girls, stroking the horse’s mane. “I will do me best. I do wonder what yer mother might have said,” she then pondered. “Ye father has nae spoken of her once to my recollection.”
“He never does,” Aurelia sighed, looking away as if saddened.
“Did ye… do ye remember her?” Margaret pressed.
“Only a little,” Aurelia admitted. “Not well enough to recall anything of her. Just that she was quite strict.”
“How so?”
Aurelia shrugged. “She would never let me do anything. I was only Lenora’s age, so perhaps it was not so strange. But I remember once asking to play outside, and she refused. When I went to my father, he agreed with her.” She curled her lip. “A lady should not wish to play outside, for that is a boy’s business,”she said in a mocking tone.
Margaret frowned as she studied Aurelia, surprised by how honest the girl was being. Margaret was still close to her mother, only ever knowing her love. But in this, she was uniquely positioned to understand the strange way that mothers often showed this love. Sometimes seeming strict, only doing what they thought was best.
“It sounds to me like she cared for ye,” Margaret said with a friendly smile. “I ken it might nae seem that way, but I have some experience with these things and my guess is she was jus’ doin’ what she thought was best.”
“Maybe…”
“Trust me.” Margaret rested a hand on Aurelia’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Me own mother could be much the same, but I never doubted how much she loved me. It is hard being a woman in this world, truly an impossible task at times. All we can do is look out for one another.” She winked at the two girls, and Lenora giggled.
“What of Father? He is the same…” Aurelia’s expression soured. “Worse, sometimes. He does not let me do anything.”
“He is…” She hesitated. “A little strict, I will admit.”
“Worse than that!”
“But it is the same as yer mother,” Margaret made sure to follow up. “Anyone can see how much yer father cares for ye. Both of ye.” She looked between the two girls. “He is doin’ his best, likely at constant pains with how he should treat ye. As hard as it is being a woman, it can be just as hard to be a father.”
Margaret couldn’t say why she was defending Lysander. It might have even been easier to have agreed with the girls, another means to get them on her side. But she found that she could not smear Lysander like that to his daughters, as it felt wrong to do and less than he deserved.
Lysander was a good father; that was the truth. And despite how much he vexed her, it was the one thing she admired most about him. Moments like this one, how effortless it was to speak with these two girls, were proof enough that they had been raised welland would turn into the young ladies he was so desperate to see them grow into. It brought a smile to Margaret’s lips…
It also brought pain. A stabbing sensation felt in her heart because again she was reminded that these two girls were not her own, they never would be, and if this marriage continued as she suspected it would, she would never have a family of her own.Perhaps that is reason enough to try harder with Lysander, to try and make this marriage work!A shame that Margaret was so stubborn.
“What’s that noise!” Lenora cried suddenly, whipping her head about. “Can you hear it!”
“No…” Aurelia frowned, turning to follow where her sister was looking. “Oh! I can! I can!”
Margaret tried to listen, but had no idea what the two girls were talking about. Her eyes widened when she heard it. Distant and quiet. Muffled also. It sounded like someone was crying.
“What on earth…” Margaret rushed in the direction of the noise. It was coming from the very back of the stables where mounds of loose hay had been piled. As she came closer, the sound of crying grew until she had no doubt that whatever was the cause of the noise was coming from within the piled hay stacks.
“What is it!” Lenora rushed for the hay.
“Careful!” Margaret grabbed her and pulled her back, while sticking out a hand to hold off Aurelia. “We da nae ken what it is.”
“It’s crying!” Lenora whined.
Margaret clicked her tongue with consideration, knowing that she had to investigate. Thus, she hoisted up the skirt of her dress and waded into the piles of hay, careful not to crush whatever it was causing the noise. A few seconds of digging and quite a few small scratches from the hay, and she found the source.
“Oh!” Margaret cried.
“What!” Lenora was the first to come, rushing into the piles of hay without hesitation.
“Careful!” Margaret said, moving to stop her, too late, as the little girl was now covered in hay. “A puppy!”
