Chapter 3
The Lairdof Millar may have lived up to Meredith’s expectations – in terms of his appearance, at least –– but his castle, unfortunately, did not.
“Is... is this it?” she asked in dismay as their horses carried them under the arched doorway, leading into a central courtyard, buzzing with people. Even from the outside, the castle looked as if it had been leeched of all color, with nothing left but grey tones. Everywhere she looked, grey stone gave way to grey cobbles, which led to grey stone stairs, leading up to a wooden door, which looked in need of a good clean. Even the late afternoon sky was grey, leaden with rainclouds and darkening by the second in the quickly fading daylight.
“Is it nae to yer ladyship’s liking?” Ryder snorted, jumping down from his horse and coming, at last, to untie her hands as a small boy ran towards them to take the horses. Meredith shifted uneasily in the saddle, uncomfortably aware of the many eyes upon her –– eyes which, she knew, would also have mouths attached. Mouths which would, no doubt, take great delight in spreading the news that the Laird of Millar had returned from his travels with his betrothed tied up like a captive –– or a savage.
Meredith felt her face flush in embarrassment. This was not exactly how she had hoped to start her life as mistress of this castle, she thought, ignoring the hand Ryder offered her as she jumped down herself.
“Nay matter,” she chirped, looking him in the eye. “It looks a bit... unloved, I suppose, but it just needs a woman’s touch, that’s all. So, it’s a good thing I’m here.”
The castle wasn’t the only thing in need of a woman’s touch, she thought, as she followed Ryder through the door she’d noticed earlier and into a dimly lit entrance hall. By the look of him, he could be doing with that himself; maybe it would help soften him up a little. Meredith flushed again, surprising herself with the unusually brazen thought, and thanking her stars that the narrow spiral staircase he now led her up was too dark for him to notice –– not that he was looking at her, anyway.
“I’ll take ye straight to yer chamber, so ye can rest,” he said curtly over his shoulder. “I’ve matters I must attend to before bed.”
“And leave me there alone?”
For the first time, Meredith felt a shiver of fear run through her. The corridors they passed through were dark and dank, with an unpleasant, moldy smell that made her want to press her handkerchief to her nose. She knew the Laird to be a man of considerable means, but you would not know it to look at the place he called home. “Home,” however, would be a poor choice of words for this... this place. It was as cold and unwelcoming as a villain’s lair, and, as the shadows around them deepened, Meredith found herself shrinking closer to Ryder, shivering involuntarily.
“Of course, on yer own; ye can hardly expect me to stay with ye,” he said, appearing not to notice her fear. “Do ye want me to sit and braid your hair like a lass?”
“Indeed nae, I’ve already learned to keep me expectations low,” Meredith shot back before she could stop herself. “I realize that whatever business ye have must be far more pressing than making your future wife welcome, but it would’ve been nice to have been introduced to some of the staff, at the very least. If I’m to be mistress here, they should at least know who I am!”
“Och, they’ll know who ye are,” Ryder replied grimly, stopping in front of a chamber door, which he pushed open as he spoke. “It would be hard for them to have missed ye.”
His eye swept quickly over her, and then he was inside the room, taking the lamp he carried with them. Meredith took a deep breath, then quickly followed him before the shadows in the corridor swallowed her up.
The bedchamber was every bit as austere as what little she’d seen of the rest of the castle, with no furniture but for the bed itself, a small wooden table and chair pushed into the corner and an ancient wardrobe which Meredith already knew she’d hesitate to open, for fear of what lay inside. Thick curtains covered the only window, and Meredith hurried to pull them back to admit what was left of the light, regretting her decision as a cloud of dust rose up from the worn fabric, threatening to choke her.
“It’s lovely, thank ye,” she said blandly, determined not to give the Laird any further reason to smirk at her. “When will dinner be served?”
Ryder looked at her in amusement. “I’ll have a tray brought up along with yer things,” he told her, taking his lamp over to the table to light hers. “I willnae have time to dine with ye tonight, I’m afraid.”
“Nay, I daenae suppose ye will,” Meredith sighed, perching on the end of the bed and trying not to think about how hard it felt. “What is this business of yers that’s so important, anyway?”
Ryder’s face darkened.
“Man’s business,” he told her abruptly. “All of the business that comes with running an estate and being a Laird…”
“…and fighting?” Meredith added, looking at him directly. “I know ye do a lot of that. Or so I’ve heard, anyway.”
“Aye, maybe I do,” he replied. “Fightin’ to keep people safe. There’s a lot of people depend on me to do that, not just those who dwell here in the castle, but many beyond its walls, too –– the rest o’ the clan, the people who live off the land attached to Millar Castle, and who need to be protected.”
“And me?” she asked softly, allowing the words to hang in the air as he considered how to reply. “Even me?”
“I do me duty to everyone under me protection,” he said at last. “Even ye.”
Turning quickly, as if regretting the softness of his final words, he opened the chamber door and stepped into the darkness beyond it. “I’ll have yer things sent up,” he said. “Ye’ll have plenty of time to unpack.”
And then he was gone.
* * *
Ryder closed the chamber door firmly behind him, then stood outside it for a few seconds, needing time to think before he descended back into the main part of the castle. She was rattled, he could tell. Oh, she had tried to act brave, as if nothing troubled her, but it was clear from the way she’d crept closer to him on her walk through the castle and the question she’d asked about whether he’d protect her that Millar Castle had not felt any more homely to Meredith than it ever had to Ryder himself.
He had not deliberately allowed the castle to fall into disrepair or to feel as cold and joyless as it no doubt did to a woman used to a comfortable family home. It was simply that he had never loved it, which meant he had never cared enough to make it any more than the empty shell it was. A strong roof and a set of sturdy stone walls, that was all he needed.
But, as he paced the empty stone corridors now, he couldn’t help but notice that it was perhaps not the most welcoming place to bring a new bride, whether he was legally married to her or not. Maybe Meredith was right about the castle needing a woman’s touch.
A frown crossed his face at the thought of Meredith and her touch. This would not do. He had been pleased to realize the castle scared her, he reminded himself. He did not, after all, want a wife, and bringing her to so inhospitable a place was an excellent way to make sure he didn’t end up with one in spite of himself. But as he stepped back out into the courtyard, scanning the area for someone he could charge with the duty of taking Meredith’s belongings to her, he realized he was lying to himself.
He had liked the way she shrank closer to him. He liked being the person she turned to for protection. He did not, however, like these feelings she was inspiring in him, so, giving his head a quick shake, as if to free it from her, he marched quickly over to Matthew, his estate steward, who he’d just spotted on the other side of the courtyard. He would busy himself with matters of importance and put Meredith out of his mind for now, he decided; if, indeed, it was even possible.
* * *
Once Meredith’s small number of belongings had been delivered to her chamber and carefully unpacked, the room looked ever so slightly better. Meredith had taken her time over the task, draping some of her more colorful shawls around the room in an attempt to bring a little color to the drab greyness that seemed to prevail everywhere in this place. But, now that she was done, there was little else to occupy her.
“Where is the tray of food Ryder had promised me?” she wondered, drumming her heels impatiently against the end of the bed she sat on. Must she go and fetch it herself, as well as unpacking her own clothes? It seemed she must, so, without allowing herself time to reconsider the bold move, Meredith quickly took the candle from the table and stepped out into the gloom of the corridor.
This had been a bad decision, she realized, almost as soon as she left the safety of her chamber. The corridors Ryder had strode down so confidently were a veritable maze to one as unaccustomed to them as Meredith, and it took only a few short minutes for her to become hopelessly lost.
“Nay matter,” she muttered to herself, turning down yet another corridor that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. “I just have to find the staircase, then I’ll at least be able to get down to the ground floor, where there will surely be someone who can help me find me way back to me chamber. The stairs have to be here somewhere, after all...”
With that, the candle she was carrying abruptly spluttered out, the flame extinguished by a rogue draft that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her heart hammering, Meredith broke into a run, rounding another corner in the darkness and screaming in fright as she ran straight into a small but solid form, coming in the opposite direction.
“Ow! Get off, demon!” the figure squealed angrily. “Leave me be!”
Meredith gasped in fear –– then felt her whole body relax as the shadowy shape in front of her raised a lamp to its face, revealing a small girl, not much younger than Meredith herself.
“I beg yer pardon,” she said, smiling. “I seem to be lost. I’m Meredith. What’s yer name?”
“Ellen.” The girl before her scowled, still annoyed at having been almost knocked off her feet, but her expression changed to shock and then embarrassment as she realized who she was speaking to.
“Meredith? Ye… ye mean the woman his Lairdship is bringing to be his bride?”
Ellen gulped in horror, then dropped into a quick curtsey. “Beg pardon, m’lady,” she said. “I thought ye were a ghost!”
“I thought the same about ye,” Meredith laughed, liking the girl immediately, despite their poor start. “I was just about to scream for help when I realized ye were but a girl!”
“I’m sixteen!” Ellen retorted. “Well, fifteen and three-quarters.”
“Very mature, I’m sure,” Meredith said gravely. “Well, Ellen, now that we’ve met, I daenae suppose ye can help me find me way back to me chamber, do ye? I was looking for some food, but I’ve become so lost I fear if I daenae go back soon, I’ll probably be out here all night.”
“Oh, I can do better than that,” Ellen replied, giving a smile that lit up her freckled face. “I can take ye back to your chamber and bring ye something good to eat. I know where cook keeps all the best stuff!”
“Well, then, I’m fortunate indeed to have bumped into ye, then,” Meredith said warmly, linking arms with the girl. “Now, lead the way!”
* * *