Patience sucked in a breath and turned her head, meeting Mari’s assessing gaze. “How did ye ken?”
The distrustful expression she’d worn when looking at Patience for the months she had been here softened, and the woman’s thin lips turned down into a sad smile. “Because I’ve been that woman. A hider of bruises. Fearful to leave my room. My husband died years ago, thankfully. I am sorry for ye, truly.” A tear trickled down Patience’s cheek and she quickly swiped it away. “Did Laird Kincaide hit ye, as well?” Mari questioned.
Patience shook her head. “His cruelty was of a different nature.”
“Ah, lass,” Mari said, pulling Patience into her embrace. Mari was soft as only an older woman could be, in that way that spoke of comfort given by a mother to a child. And she smelled like bread, which felt comforting and safe somehow. “If ye ever wish to talk, find me.”
Patience nodded, and then Mari pulled away and turned to the women who were as silent as if they’d all been put under a temporary spell. “Lady Blackswell shares my past and Jane’s present,” she announced.
Patience started at the news of Jane. She felt immediate kinship to the woman and sorrow for her, and she could not help but wonder if she could somehow aid Jane, as she’d wished someone would have helped her.
She cast a furtive glance over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Cul’s assessing gaze. Would he tell Brodee what she’d revealed? Before she could ponder that, mutterings of outrage filled the room from the women. Then, to Patience’s complete and utter shock, the women poured forth introducing themselves and some even hugging her and offering sympathy, their own stories of abuse from men, some husbands and some not. Never had she felt so much a part of something, so much like she had found a home, a place to belong.
And it was because Brodee had given her this opportunity.
She wanted to go to him and to thank him, but she knew he was training.Later,she told herself.And mayhap…Well, mayhap they’d even share another kiss. Her belly tightened, and her cheeks heated at the thought.
“Come,” Mari said, motioning to the door. “I’ll show ye where we get our herbs and how to pick them, and then we will teach ye all about the kitchens.”
Patience turned and was face-to-face with Cul. Now his expression held a mixture of anger and sorrow. He touched his fist to his heart, and she frowned, not understanding. “What does that mean?” she asked him.
“’Tis the motto of Laird Blackswell’s branch of the clan,” Cul said. “It means ‘the strong shall nae break.’”
It was perfect. She nodded, touched her fist to her heart, and followed Mari outside to the herb garden.
Mari spent the better part of the early afternoon teaching Patience about the herbs and what they were used for. “Jane normally gathers the herbs for the kitchens every morning,” Mari said as they collected the herbs to take inside to the ladies who were busily cooking.
The mention of Jane’s name brought Mari’s earlier comment regarding their shared experiences. Patience thought of the woman whom she really did not know. Jane was timid. Patience had thought it was because Jane had feared her, but it seemed it was more than that. “Mari,” Patience said, putting her hand on the woman’s arm to stop her progress into the kitchens, so they could have a private word—or as private as it could get with Cul standing at the kitchen door within hearing distance. “Is Jane’s husband cruel to her?”
“Aye. He hits her all the time,” the older woman replied, disgust in her voice. “Jane has made us vow to keep her secret because he threatened to kill her if she told anyone, though I do think she confessed the truth to Kinsey, which is how Jane came to work in the kitchens and work as yer lady’s maid. I think Lady Kinsey was trying to aid Jane as best she could without putting her in more danger. Normally, Jane would work in the sheep field with her husband all day, and every little thing set him off and made him hit her, but now that she works with us and for ye, she dunnae get hit nearly as much.” Mari shook her head. “If only she had someone to take her in who could protect her. Lady Kinsey promised to ask Laird Kincaide—” Patience scoffed at the notion of Silas aiding Jane, to which Mari nodded. “I did nae ken he was cruel to ye. Anyway, Laird Kincaide died before Lady Kinsey could speak with him.”
“She was likely waiting for a time the devil would possibly be generous,” Patience said, “but that could have been a lifetime.” Patience nibbled on her lip, thinking. Brodee had given her the power to make decisions for the women. She was mistress of this castle, and as mistress, it was her duty to protect her clan just as much as her husband’s. The notion of having the power to help Jane, someone abused like Patience had been, filled Patience with a sense of purpose. “Where is Jane?” Patience asked. She wanted to talk to the woman, and after she spoke with her, if Jane was agreeable, Patience would ask Brodee if he would aid Jane.
Mari frowned. “I dunnae actually. She is normally here in the kitchens in the mornings, but she did nae come today.”
“Do ye ken where her cottage is?”
“Oh, aye. ’Tis to the west near the edge of the woods.”
“I’m going to go see her,” Patience said, determined to aid the woman. She’d never had anyone to help her, and she wanted and needed to do this for Jane.
“Ye kinnae go there!” Mari announced so loudly that Cul, who had been distracted by one of the kitchen women who’d come outside to flirt with him, looked over to where Patience was.
“Ye kinnae go anywhere without me,” Cul announced, striding toward them.
Patience opened her mouth to order Cul to remain here, but then she clamped her jaw shut and nodded. She doubted Cul would listen in this case, and if Jane’s husband was violent with Jane, it would be wise to have Cul come along, just in case. “I’m going to visit Jane to speak of womanly matters,” she said in an effort to keep the intimate details of Jane’s secret until Jane said it was all right to reveal it. When I speak with her, unless ye wish to hear of womanly problems, I suggest ye keep yer distance.”
He looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Gladly.”
It took longer to get to Jane’s cottage than Patience had expected. The sun was setting in the sky, casting burgeoning shadows in the woods as the cottage came into view.
“We’ll be late for supper,” Cul said, a note of disquiet in his voice.
“I’m certain there will be food left for us,” Patience assured him.
Cul laughed at that. “’Tis nae food that vexes me, my lady. ’Tis the laird.”
Patience’s brow furrowed. “Brodee? Why?”
“He’ll be distressed, I’d think, when we dunnae appear for the meal. I should have told him before we came here.”
“If he’s concerned,” she said, “I’m certain he will ask around, and Mari will tell him where we’ve gone.” It was so foreign to think that someone might be worried about her whereabouts that she had not even considered Brodee. Yet, if his behavior so far was any indication, he would be alarmed when they did not appear for supper, and the happiness she felt at that idea made her warm and content.
“My lady, ye’re grinning.”
“Am I?” She pressed her hands to her cheeks as they approached the cottage, but then a desperate scream rent the air and fear stopped her in her tracks.
“Stay here!” Cul hissed, his sword singing in the moment of silence as he withdrew it.
Cul’s command was not hard for Patience to follow because she was frozen in place with terror. Her heart beat viciously as she watched Cul pound on the door. Another scream cut through the forest, and then the door banged open and a man came out swinging a gleaming sword.
