Page 41 of How to Heal a Highland Heart
Ten
Patience made her way to the kitchens with a smile on her face and the memory of Brodee’s kiss singed upon her hand. It still tingled where his lips had grazed her bare skin. As she walked across the courtyard, weaving through the men gathered there, she could swear she felt Brodee’s gaze upon her back. On impulse, she turned, and he stood in the center of the courtyard watching her. It wasn’t like Silas used to watch her: with assessing eyes, waiting for a chance to belittle her. Nor was it how Ivan used to watch her: to pounce on the best time to “punish” her, as he liked to call it when he hit her. The look upon Brodee’s face was one of concern, and unless he had skills of deceit like Dolus, the god she’d teased him about, she was inclined to believe his concern was genuine. She lifted her hand in a final wave, and he did the same before turning to speak to one of his men.
She continued across the courtyard, then entered the door to the kitchens, which was outside the main keep above the entrance, and she climbed the stone steps, thinking. He’d practically told her he did not believe her truly mad, and she was fairly certain that he’d been hurt greatly, too, though by whom, she didn’t know. Her husband hid behind a mask cleverer than the one she’d tried to hide behind. His was rooted in legends born from his skill as a fighter and deeds for the king as his right hand.
He could be hard, it was true, but there was also a tenderness there that she had never dreamed possible. She couldn’t help but wonder what sort of passions he concealed. The only thing she’d known of the passion of a man was that it was accompanied by pain, both physical and mental, and left her feeling empty. She could not imagine that a man as Brodee, who had kissed her so gently, would next cause her pain.
She climbed the stairs to the kitchens and paused outside the door, listening to the laughter of the women who were friends, the chattering talk about the clan, their men, and families. She wanted that. All of it. Desperately. Did she dare try to find it with Brodee? Would he even wish to try with her? He’d admitted that he’d not wanted this marriage, either, yet he’d pointed out that they were wed and had declared she’d learn to trust him. She ought to be irritated that he thought to order her to trust him, but she was grinning. She could feel the wideness of it on her face and the joy of it in her heart. His command had not been threatening or frightening; it had been more of a fact he’d stated, as if he would never consider that she mightnotgrow to trust him. But she thought she wanted to. She really did.
Not once had it occurred to her that this marriage might be good, but now that the possibility was dangling before her, she wanted to grasp it. All she had to do was silence the voices in her head, lock her horrible memories away, and conquer her fear of the bedding. She snorted. An impossible list, but perhaps she was up for the impossible, if he was.
With a deep breath, she opened the door to the kitchens, and the smell of fresh baked bread wafted out, making her mouth water. As she stepped into the room, all eyes turned to her, and all the happy chatter stopped. Doubt pricked her immediately, and Silas’s voice whispered in her ear,Ye’re worthless.
She forced a smile, though her stomach twisted with nerves. She would prove to these women, and to Brodee, that she had worth. “I dunnae ken a thing about the kitchens or have any notion where to begin,” she admitted in one breath.
Mari, who Patience knew all the women looked up to and admired, weaved her way through the women gaping at Patience. The older woman arched her eyebrows at Patience and crossed her arms over her chest. “Then why are ye here?” she demanded, her tone unfriendly.
Patience suspected they did not like her because Silas had made it seem she did not wish to help, not that he’d not let her. She was their mistress, but simply demanding they allow her to learn and then listen to her would not gain her friends or loyalty. Maybe honesty would. “I want to learn how to be a good mistress of the castle, and no one kens the inner workings of this castle better than ye ladies.”
“Why did ye nae come here before?” someone questioned from the crowd. Patience glanced around to locate the person who asked the question, and a woman lifted her hand to indicate it had been her. She was a tiny thing with big green eyes.
Patience took a deep breath. “I did nae come here before because Silas forbade me to do so.”
“’Tis nae what Laird Kincaide told us,” Mari piped up.
“Laird Kincaide was a liar,” Patience replied, her hands coming to fists at Silas’s ability to wreak havoc in her life from beyond the grave.
“Well, how are we supposed to ken who to believe?” Mari demanded, to which there were many grunts and words of agreement.
“All I ask is that ye give me the opportunity to show ye,” Patience said. “I ken Brodee told ye all to get yer assignments from me, but I also ken I dunnae have the first idea of how to run a castle, so I will need all of ye to help me, to teach me. I vow to ye I will be as fair as possible and work right alongside ye daily.”
Murmurs of approval rose from many women in the crowd, but Mari gave Patience a doubtful look, but it was better than the narrow-eyed one from moments ago. “Ye’re the daughter of a laird, and ye’ve been wed thrice now,” Mari said, “so why do ye nae ken how to run a castle? If ye claim Laird Kincaide was nae truthful about why ye did nae help us, whatisthe truth?”
“Aye,” one of the women said, “we deserve to hear it if we’re to welcome ye in now.”
Humiliation burned Patience’s cheeks. It grew even hotter when the kitchen door creaked open, sunlight flooded the room, and Cul stepped into the kitchen. He inclined his head to her, and she cleared her throat, wishing desperately he had come in a few minutes later. She was not surprised he was here, of course, but she’d rather not reveal her humiliating past with him standing there. There did not seem to be a choice, however. She turned so that her back was to him, and she directly faced the women. “When I was much younger, my father married again after my mother passed, and his new wife did nae care for me. She told me I was too stupid to learn how to run a castle.”
“Was she jealous?” the same petite woman with large green eyes asked.
“Jealous? Of me?” Patience asked, astonished at the question.
“Well, aye,” the woman said. “If she was young, especially if she was close to yer age, she may have simply wanted to establish dominance over ye by ruling the castle without yer aid.”
“Well, shewasclose to my age,” Patience said, her mind turning. “I did nae ever think of that. I, well, I did nae ever really have anyone to talk to about it.”
“I’m Ada,” the petite woman said. She came forward and curtsied. “Ye can talk to me.”
Patience smiled. “Thank ye, Ada.”
“What of when ye were wed before?” Mari asked. “Laird Sutherland was yer first husband, aye?” She gave Patience another suspicious look.
“Aye.” Patience shifted from foot to foot, half wishing the floor would swallow her up. Sharing the secrets she’d long kept was a terrifying prospect, but perhaps holding on to them was what continued to give the past power over her. “I stayed mostly to my chambers when I was wed to Laird Sutherland.” She prayed the women would leave it at that.
“Why?” Mari asked.
“There are some truths,” Patience said, her voice wobbling, her hand fluttering to her neck in memory of Ivan trying to choke her, of the bruises she had stayed in her chamber to hide, “too terrible to speak aloud.”
Mari’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed anO. She moved closer to Patience, surprising her when she took Patience by the hands and pressed her mouth close to Patience’s ear. Behind Patience, she felt Cul step closer, as if he feared he might need to protect her from Mari. “Did the truth involve yer husband’s fists?”
