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And yet he hadn’t come to her room. She had left the feast early, leaving him behind, still drinking and sharing stories. The hall had erupted into teasing the moment she left—the first night, they had called it—and he had risen as if to follow her, only to mutter something under his breath and disappear into his chamber instead.
“Me Lady?” Her new maid knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Isla called as she got up to choose a gown.
The maid came in. She reminded her so much of Jonet that her heart clenched.
“Good mornin’, me Lady.”
“Good mornin’, Lorna.”
She let herself be dressed in something practical, suited to her role. She was no longer just Isla. She was the lady of the castle, and all eyes would be on her.
She decided to take breakfast in her own chambers rather than the Great Hall. If word had already spread that the Laird had kept away from his new wife’s bed, she had no wish to face the smug looks or the pitying ones. And even if it hadn’t spread yet, she wasn’t in the mood for knowing looks either way.
She invited Lady Moira to her chambers too, and the older woman came with a wide smile on her lips. If she knew that her nephew had slept alone on his wedding night, she gave no sign of it.
“Ye ken, it is custom for the new lady of the castle to give herbs and dry meat to the staff and the villagers. But since ye had a long day yesterday, we will stay here today.”
“I will see to it.”
“I have the offerings ready. Ye had so much on yer mind, me Lady.”
“Please, Lady Moira.” Isla shook her head. “Of all people, ye are the last one who should address me by me title. Call me ‘child’ like ye used to.”
“Alright, but only on the condition that ye call me ‘Auntie’. Can ye do that?”
“Aye, Auntie,” Isla said, smiling.
“Ye already met the staff, so we can leave for the village whenever ye are ready.”
They ate breakfast together, and Isla felt her heart ease a little under the warmth the older woman wrapped around her. It was almost as if the world had balanced out her cruel uncle with a kind aunt in return.
The rounds of the castle proved both exhausting and exciting. Most of the staff were just curious, many already friendly from working alongside her during the wedding preparations. The rest, having seen Lady Moira’s quiet support and heard Alisdair’s warnings, kept a polite distance.
Eventually, she needed a moment to herself, so she headed for the stables. She missed Luath immensely; she hadn’t seen her since she arrived here.
The mare greeted her like a long-lost friend.
“I ken, me lassie,” Isla murmured, stroking her neck. “I left ye alone. But I am here now. I see they’re takin’ good care of ye.”
It was true. Luath had a stall of her own, right beside the massive one belonging to Alisdair’s horse, and she was clean and well-fed.
“Ye ken,” she kept caressing the mare’s neck, “ye are the steed of a Lady now.”
She smiled, both sad and soft. Luath was the only thing she had truly wanted to keep from her old life. It was strange to think that both of them were finally free from Sinclair Castle.
“We are safe here,” she crooned. “No one will dare threaten ye or hit ye again.”
Her heart settled a little, though she still longed to ride Luath properly, to feel that particular freedom again. She groomed the mare as memories of her mother came flooding back—her mother, who had taught her to ride almost before she could walk.
“Make sure to always be free, Isla,” her mother used to say.
“I still have a lot to do, lassie,” she told the mare. “But I promise ye that I will soon come and we will ride together.”
She looked out the entrance of the stables to the loch glimmering under the summer sun. It was bonnie, with wild green around and the mountain looming close.
“Aye, lassie,” she murmured. “One of these days I will come for ye, and we will ride like the wind.”
