“Of course nae, my lady! And ye dunnae have to.” Lara swept a murderous look around the group that seemed to dare anyone to disagree. The woman must have had quite a reputation because all the women immediately nodded and voiced their agreement, even Freya.
“I escaped my husband, who was later killed,” Lena said, “but nae without scars. Jagged scars that ran deep in heart and mind, healed only after marrying Alex.”
“Bless the laird!” several women said.
“He’s a fine, fine man,” someone murmured from the back of the group.
“And verra fine to look at,” Freya said with a wide smile that faded to contrite. “I’m sorry I was nae friendly moments before. I misjudged ye.”
“’Tis fine,” Lena replied, glad she had decided to share a bit of her past so that these women might know her. “As I was saying, after everything, sometimes, when another man touches me, even innocently to simply dance as Fardley did—” She fought to repress a shudder.
A woman with dark, curly hair nodded, and the look of understanding that sparked in her eyes made Lena wonder if the woman had endured abuse, too. She skimmed the woman for signs and was dismayed to see an ugly bruise on her forearm and another on her wrist. Lena would make it a point to speak to the woman and try to discreetly learn if she was being hurt by a man. The bruises could have, of course, come from a hundred other things, but that look, that all-knowing look of torture, Lena believed could only be from personal experience.
“Fardley asked me to dance, and I thought to try, wishing to be a part of yer clan and nae shame myself or Alex, but once Fardley touched me, I kenned I could nae. I tried to tell him.”
“Och!” Lara said with a wave of her hand. “That one has a big heart but a thick head. Ye would have had to knock him over it with a branch to get him to hear ye.”
“Aye,” came a chorus of agreements.
“I doubt he’ll ever make the mistake of nae listening intently to something ye tell him again. The laird has him training on the rocks and is personally overseeing it. Fardley must train without food or water all day every day until Alex deems that he heeds and hears commands instinctually.”
Lena gasped. “That’s cruel! The man could become ill in this heat! I’ll speak with my husband. Of course, I did try to convince him nae to punish Fardley at all, but Alex said the man had to learn or he was nae of use to him as a warrior.”
“The laird is correct,” Lara said. “None should have doubted his fairness.” She looked apologetically at Lena.
“Aye,” agreed the woman with the dark curls. “Especially as the laird has given himself the same conditions he gave to Fardley.”
Lena frowned. “Do ye mean to say that my husband will nae take a drink nor eat any food during training until he deems Fardley trained well enough to continue to serve him?”
“Aye,” the woman replied. “I was coming to the kitchens with the water buckets earlier, and I saw them training. I stopped to offer the laird water, but he refused, saying he’d nae partake until Fardley could.”
Lena’s heart swelled with admiration for Alex. He’d had to punish his man, but he had somehow managed to do it in such a way that he put himself on the same level as Fardley and not above him. In doing so, Alex had ensured Fardley did not feel alienated from his clan but rather felt a sense of comradery with his laird. She hoped Fardley learned quickly so that no one would suffer too greatly.
Lara clapped her hands together as silence had fallen in the kitchens once more. “Return to work, ladies. The men will nae be pleased if supper is late.”
As the women scurried to their places, Lara turned to Lena. “Did ye wish to continue to help in the kitchens, my lady?”
Lena nodded, searching out the brown-headed woman she suspected was being abused. “What’s that woman’s name?” she asked, motioning toward the woman.
“That’s Greer. She makes the mince pies, though I did have her helping to stir the stew. We’re one lass down in the kitchens today.”
“Wonderful. I’ll go aid her.”
“I dunnae believe the laird would want ye consorting with her,” Lara blurted.
Lena frowned. “My husband is nae the sort of man to think me or himself above others.”
“Oh, nay, my lady,” Lara said, her face reddening. “I ken that well. It’s just, well—” She bit her lip, doubt flickering across her face. She waved a hand. “Dunnae mind me. Do as ye please, and if the laird dunnae care for it, he’ll tell ye to cease the acquaintance.”
Lena was set to argue that Alex wouldn’t command her so, but she clamped her jaw shut, realizing she wasn’t entirely certain if he would or would not. They’d been married such a short time. She certainly hoped he wouldn’t ever try to act high-handed with her. Because of him, she now felt just bold enough to defy his command if she thought it unreasonable. The realization made her grin as she approached Greer, who was now so busy making the mince pies that she didn’t even seem to notice Lena drawing near. When Lena tapped the woman on the shoulder, Greer gave a yelp of fright that brought the gazes of several of the other women to them, but they looked away quickly, realizing there was nothing to see.
“I’m sorry I frightened ye,” Lena said, just as the door to the kitchen opened and Marsaili entered, looking tired and glum. Lena’s heart tugged for her sister. She would have to speak with her later and assure her that Lena did understand, though she would have to get a letter to Iain telling him what had occurred. But now, she gave Marsaili a subtle shake of her head when she started to come toward Lena and Greer. Marsaili frowned. Likely she thought Lena did not wish to have her around, but it wasn’t that at all. She knew from her own experience that her best hope of getting Greer to confide in her was the two of them talking privately. It would be doubly hard to convince the woman she could trust both Lena and Marsaili as opposed to just one of them.
Once Marsaili turned away, Lena focused on Greer. “Do ye mind if I help ye make the pies?”
“If ye’re certain ye can withstand the withering looks from the other women,” the woman replied in a tart tone without looking up from her work.
Lena scowled. Obviously, Greer had some sort of distastefulness attached to her. Did it have to do with the bruising? Lena’s chest ached for the woman. She knew well what it was like to be seen as less than others. She’d been seen that way at her husband’s castle. As Lena kneaded the dough beside the woman, she spoke. “Have ye always lived at Duart Castle, Greer?”
