Page 124 of Highlanders for the Holidays
Chapter 1
In hindsight, Onnleigh should have listened to that inner voice. After she’d given herself completely to Darwud MacCallen, he kissed the tip of her nose, thanked her kindly and told her he’d be seeing her very soon.
For days after she’d given herself to him, she walked in the clouds, happily going about her daily routines with a song in her heart and a skip in her step.Darwud wants to marry me.What more could a girl such as she hope for in life?
Then a week passed by without seeing him. She thought that quite odd, for he’d been coming to visit nearly every day for a month. Mayhap he had fallen ill or had been injured and that was what kept him away. After the tenth day, she had convinced herself of that very thing. “What kind of woman would I be if I did nae go to tend him? I’ll be his wife soon and ’twill be me duty.” She didn’t want him to think she did not care about his health or well-being, so she set out for his home on a bright, clear, crisp morning.
She knew he still lived with his parents in a nice cottage near the clan keep. Darwud had oft spoke with a great deal of pride about the size of their home, the number of sheep they owned, and how well their crops did each year. Oh, she didn’t quite believe everything he told her, but she didn’t want to insult his male pride by sharing her skepticism.
It was not easy for her to take that long walk toward the keep. The last time she’d been inside the walls had been a most harrowing experience. She’d been but nine summers old and had made the mistake of listening to Thomas MacCallen. “Go ahead and take as many leeks as ye want, Onnleigh,” he’d told her. “We ken yer hungry. Maire’s mum will nae care.”
Well, Maire’s mumdidcare. She cared so much in fact that she took a switch to Onnleigh’s backside and beat her all the way out of the garden, down the lane, and out of the walls. “Do nae ever come back here again, ye little thief!” she screamed as she tossed Onnleigh to the ground. That was how she got the scar that ran between her upper lip and her nose; she’d fallen down and landed face first on a sharp rock, splitting her skin open in the process.
She had cried all the way home. Her da had been too into his cups to notice her tears or her cut lip.
She hadn’t been back since.
With her head held high, her shoulders back, and a wee bit more pride than she had felt in an age—if ever—she crossed the frost-covered glen and headed down the path. She was wearing her best dress, which used to be her mum’s, and tried to ignore the multiple patches. She had bathed, washed and combed her hair before working the wild red mane into a long braid. With her old shawl drawn tightly around her shoulders, she set off for Darwud’s home.
Numerous neat and tidy cottages sat spread about the patch of land. Uncertain exactly which one was Darwud’s, she walked until she came upon a woman in her garden.
“Excuse me, mum,” she said politely. “Can ye tell me which cottage be Darwud’s?”
The woman stood and eyed Onnleigh suspiciously. “Who are ye?” she asked before recognition set in. “Ye be Grueber’s daughter.” ’Twas a statement, not a question.
“Aye, mum,” she answered, her bravado starting to fade.
The woman shook her head in disgust. “His be the third house on the left,” she motioned with her head. “But what do ye want him fer?”
It wasn’t anyone’s business, so she ignored the question, thanked her, and headed toward the cottage.
It was a quaint place, with a thatched roof and two stools that sat on either side of the door. She could smell stew cooking from within and her stomach rumbled.I bet his mum be a right good cook,she thought. Brushing down the skirt of her dress, she knocked on the door.
Moments later, a very pretty young woman answered the door. She had hair the color of spun gold and big green eyes. Her brow furrowed into a line of confusion when she saw Onnleigh standing on her doorstep. “Can I help ye?” she asked curiously.
Onnleigh offered her a curtsey. “I be here to see Darwud. Are ye his sister?”
The woman laughed, “Nay! I be his wife.”
Onnleigh stood dumbfounded. “Darwud MacCallen’s wife?” she managed to mumble.
“Aye, Darwud MacCallen’s wife,” she replied.
That inner voice began to scream, reminding her just what a fool she was. Not wanting to cause a commotion, her mind raced for a way out of the situation. “Be he a short man, with red hair and a tic in one eye?”
The woman shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Nay. My Darwud be tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. I do no’ ken another as ye described.”
Her Darwud. Not Onnleigh’s Darwud, but someone else’s.
’Twas gut-wrenching news. She couldn’t think, couldn’t utter a word. Instead, she turned on her heels and left.
“Who are ye?” the young woman called out after her.
Not wanting to start any kind of commotion, she stopped, turned and smiled. “I be terrible sorry, mum. ’Twas me mistake.”
As soon as she was off the path she started running. But no matter how hard she pumped her legs, she could not escape the shame, the humiliation or her tears.
How could she be so stupid? So gullible?
