Page 9 of To Wed a Laird
Granted, her mother’s death had not been a violent one, but she had no doubt that the pain was just as acute. Every time she thought of Elspeth’s angry face, rather than sharing her feeling of rage, Rose experienced a tremendous upwelling of sympathy. Nell had told her the circumstances of Elspeth’s mother’s death, and she had been utterly shocked.
“No wonder the poor thing is so angry,” she said sadly. “How old was she?”
“Six,” Nell replied.
They were both sitting in Nell’s little parlour in front of a bright fire, and Nell was busy with her knitting, which was a craft that Rose was eager to learn.
“Before that she was a bright wee thing, always happy. It is so sad tae see what has happened tae her.”
The more Rose heard about how traumatised Elspeth was by her mother’s death, the more she was determined to be the onewho pulled her back from the pit of depression the little girl found herself in.
However, the problem of how to do it was keeping sleep away, and Rose found herself tossing and turning, throwing the blankets away from herself so that cold air seeped in around her. The fire had almost died, and the room was becoming cold. Rose sighed in frustration. She clenched her hands into fists and thumped them onto the mattress.
She stood up and watched the embers of the fire for a moment, holding her hands out to what was left of its warmth. Then, she decided that perhaps a cup of warm milk would help her to sleep. She put on a warm woollen robe over her nightdress then ventured out into the cold dark corridor, hoping that she would not lose her way.
The passage was colder than she had anticipated, and for a moment, she considered turning back, but she decided to persevere, since the thought of having no sleep was unbearable.
After she had navigated her way around a few corners and down a flight of stairs, she was not entirely sure she was on the right track. The trouble was that the castle was enormous, and the corridors seemed to be miles long. Rose knew the kitchen was only a few yards from the Laird’s study, but could she find her way there?
She was beginning to suspect that she was lost, but she tamped down the panic inside her and forced herself to think clearly. Rose turned in a circle to see if she could get her bearings, but it was impossible. She doubted if she could even find her way back to her own room. However, she reasoned that if she could find her way to the entrance, one of the guards would point her in the right direction.
She trudged on, trying to stay calm, but her foot was suddenly struck by something that was lying on the floor. Shewas wearing only soft slippers, and cried out as a bolt of pain shot through her toes, then she stumbled forward.
As she reached out to save herself from falling, she felt an arm wrapping itself around her waist in a steady, firm hold, and she was pulled against a solid, muscular chest.
At first, Rose thought she had encountered one of the guards on patrol, but she looked up into a pair of vivid blue eyes, and realised that it was the Laird who had caught her roaming around his castle.
“I am so sorry,” she said in a trembling voice. Her foot was agonisingly sore, and she let out a gasp of pain.
“Are you all right?” Cormac asked, concerned. He tightened his arm around her and pulled her closer to him before he even realised what he was doing. “Why are you wandering around in the middle of the night?”
“I-I could not sleep, and I wanted a cup of warm milk,” Rose replied. “I was trying to get to the kitchen, but I tripped over something on the floor.”
Cormac frowned, then bent over and picked up a small spinning top which had obviously been left there by Elspeth. It was made of brightly painted wood, and Cormac winced as he looked at the sharp point at each end.
“One of Elspeth’s toys,” he said grimly. “And this is a very stupid place to leave it. I am sorry for that. Now, can you walk?”
Rose nodded, and Cormac felt almost disappointed, for he felt inclined to help her. However, he kept his arm firmly around her waist and smiled down at her.
“You are going the wrong way,” he told Rose as he changed direction.
He watched a look of embarrassment cross her face and felt a little sorry for her. He thought of what had transpired that afternoon and realised that she probably thought him a very badfather. He tried to put himself in her place and decided that he would likely have come to the same conclusion.
The notion that he might be considered a poor father hurt him because he was one of the most devoted parents he knew, and he would die to protect his daughter from harm.
Rose had not said a word of condemnation to him, but Cormac could see it in her eyes when she looked at him, and in the way she avoided looking at him. He wanted to dispel her bad opinion of him right then and there.
He had no idea why her good opinion mattered so much to him, but it did, and he was anxious to correct her misapprehensions. For a while, they walked along in silence, slowed down by Rose’s sore foot, then, unable to stay quiet any longer, Cormac spoke up.
“Please do not judge me for shouting at my daughter,” he said.
Rose was shocked. “I didn’t say anything,” she replied, with a touch of anger in her voice.
Cormac looked down into her deep brown eyes, and almost forgot what he was going to say for a moment. “There are other ways to say something apart from words,” he pointed out. “You looked so furious with me, but I do not deserve your anger. I have done my best to be a good father to Elspeth, but she seems determined to shut me out.” He shook his head and went on.
“I have tried my best for four years since her mother died, but she will not let me in. She will never let me play with her as she used to, and she does not let me read stories to her. Worst of all, she hardly talks to me or lets me know what is in her mind.” He sighed, and if Rose had not been there, he might have banged his head against the wall or done himself some other kind of harm.
But what he said was strange indeed. A girl without her mother should try to become closer to her father, Rose thought, as she and her sisters had tried to do. However, in their case, ithad not worked, since their father had only become more and more distant.
