Page 68 of Unforgotten
Drew inclined her head, her gaze shuttering. “So what will ye do?”
Duncan glared back at her, outrage pulsing in his breast. “That woman tried to kill me,” he ground out the words. “And I will have my vengeance upon her.”
30
Always
“HAVE YE BEEN avoiding me, Gordana?”
Gavin’s sister glanced up from her embroidery, guilt filtering across her face. Observing her, Ella’s mouth curved. Gordana MacNichol had a gentle heart and an open nature. It wasn’t in her character to be cruel to others. All the same, her mother had done an excellent job in making Ella an outcast in Scorrybreac.
In the two weeks since Ella’s arrival, barely anyone save Gavin and her father had spoken to her. Even the servants avoided meeting her eye.
It was a drizzly grey morning, hence Gordana was not in her garden. Usually, if she sat in the women’s solar, her mother would join her, but Maggie had retired to her bed-chamber after breaking her fast earlier that morning, complaining of a head-ache.
Ella wanted to make the most of their time alone together to speak frankly.
“I’ve been occupied of late,” Gordana murmured, her gaze dropping to the coverlet she was embroidering with tiny pink roses. “The garden needs a lot of work at the end of the summer.”
“I see the folk of Scorrybreac have been preparing for Lughnasadh.”
“Aye,” Gordana replied, her gaze still downcast. “Let us hope for fine weather tomorrow.”
The festival, which marked the start of the harvest season, was one that Ella had always enjoyed when she’d previously lived in Scorrybreac. It had pagan origins, but now nuns and monks all over Scotland would make a pilgrimage to the top of nearby hills on the day of Lughnasadh.
In old times, folk had sacrificed animals and offered up gifts of the first cuttings of grain to the gods. These days though, there was eating, drinking, dancing, music, games, and matchmaking. As a lass, Ella had also enjoyed watching the athletic and sporting contests such as weight-throwing, hurling, and horse racing.
Silence fell while Ella took a seat opposite Gordana. To keep her hands busy, she picked up a spindle and a basket of wool and began to wind wool onto the spindle, teasing out the sticky strands with her fingers.
“Ye always used to make seed cakes for Lughnasadh,” Ella said casually, eventually breaking the silence. “Will ye do so this year?”
Gordana shrugged. “I let the younger women do the baking these days.”
“Gordana,” Ella said gently. “Please look at me.”
An uncomfortable pause followed, before Gordana complied. Her expression was guarded, her eyes colder than Ella had ever seen them.
“Do ye really believe I have manipulated yer brother?” Ella asked. She decided it was best to get straight to the point. She hadn’t been deaf to the rumors that had been circulating the keep of late—no doubt thanks to Maggie. Folk whispered that she was a witch who kept Gavin captive with a vile spell.
It was dangerous talk, for Ella knew what people did to women they suspected of witchcraft. Only her position in Scorrybreac prevented them from stoning her, or worse. Two servant girls had spat on the ground after she passed them outdoors in the inner bailey that morning.
Not for the first time, oily fear pooled in the pit of her belly at the thought that everyone here might turn against her. Gavin was her only ally—and even he couldn’t protect her if Maggie MacNichol incited mass hatred.
The rumors were gathering in intensity. Fear gripped Ella by the throat then as she remembered an elderly woman in Talasgair who’d been stoned to death after the locals had accused her of witchcraft. The rumors had to be stamped out.
“I don’t know what to think,” Gordana replied coolly. “I find it hard to believe that a woman who has dedicated her life to God can just change direction at a moment’s notice.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Ella replied quietly. “When I visited Scorrybreac during Ma’s illness … Kilbride was my life … I couldn’t see any other.”
“What happened to change things then?”
Ella drew in a steadying breath. She didn’t want to talk of the past, of the grief and pain that had nearly torn her to pieces, but if Gordana was ever to be her friend and ally again, she would need to.
“I loved yer brother,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “and despite that I took my vows and dedicated my life to the Cluniac order, that feeling never went away. Love isn’t something ye can just abandon … although there have been times when I wish I could have.”
Ella paused there. She could see she now had Gordana’s full attention. The woman had stopped embroidering and was watching Ella steadily. There was no hostility in her gaze, but no warmth either.
“Shortly after I arrived at Kilbride, I realized I was with bairn,” Ella continued. “The nuns let me stay on, allowing me to give birth within the abbey, but our son was born dead.”
