O.k ppl, sorry for the long wait, but i wanted to upload two chapters at once, i had done this one a few days back but i didnt want to put it up untill i had the other one complete too. See how much I care about my readers lol. I hope you enjoy both these chapters, because i had to dig very deep to write them, the editing alone was a big strain. I dont have lots of time nowadays so i hope u guys will forgive the few mistakes that have been overlooked, although i hope i have them all weeded out, but i am human, so who knows, if you find anything dont hesitate in telling me.
PLZ DONT FORGET TO VOTE AND COMMENT ON BOTH THE CHAPTERS IF YOU LIKE THEM, I NEED ALL THE SUPPORT I CAN GET AND I LOVE TO HEAR BACK FROM YOU GUYS.
CHAPTER 25:
“Ye look lovely in the McLaughlin colours, Lady Sarah.”
Sarah smiled.
It was funny how the people in the Middle Ages often referred to her as lovely or beautiful. She had never heard those adjectives before when it came to her.
Only a month ago she had dreaded looking in the mirror for fear of seeing someone who was perhaps twenty pounds too big. Now however she was beginning to get more comfortable in her own skin. Sure she still had her bad days, quite a few of them actually, culminating in all her insecurities about her body and her weight resurfacing, but she was also beginning to have her good days.
Those gradually increasing days when Sarah felt like she wasn’t such a minger after all.
“Thank You, Megan.” Sarah said, glancing at the maid standing by the door.
She didn’t have a mirror so she couldn’t actually verify if she did indeed look “Lovely” or not, but she decided to believe Megan.
After all she felt fresh and rejuvenated.
Megan had come into the room an hour ago, gently waking her from her deep slumber, and in that time; she had helped her out of bed, lit a fire in the fireplace and provided her with a means to get rid of all the dust and grime that she had acquired over the gruelling journey here. Megan had arranged for a vat of steaming hot water to be brought in from the kitchens.
The men who had carried it up to Iain’s room had placed it next to the fireplace and exited the room without so much as a glancing in Sarah’s direction. But Sarah was used to that, it was no different in Bromwick.
She had soaked in the water for almost half in hour, until it had started to get too cold for her. This time however, Sarah hadn’t let Megan bathe her like an invalid the way Glenda did; she had politely taken the soap from the maids hand and scrubbed herself vigorously. Megan did lodge a mild protest but Sarah managed to convince her otherwise.
Sarah had made a definite decision to not live like she had in Bromwick; she was intent on making herself useful.
She had however grudgingly allowed Megan to help her with the clothes, this one time, until she got a hang of it herself.
The good thing was that they were no where near as colourful or extravagant as the gowns she had worn in England and they were a damn sight more comfortable too.
Sarah liked the fact that she only wore a simple linen kirtle as an undergarment, with a yellowish woollen dress over it. It provided her with ample mobility, it was lighter too, a lot less cumbersome. Granted the ensemble wasn’t eye-catching or vibrant by any stretch of the imagination but by this point in time Sarah was pretty sick of all things loud and gaudy. Fortunately, the McLaughlin plaid which Megan had shown her how to don over the dress made up for any deficiencies.
She also liked the way the women in the highlands had their own plaids, the cheques were bigger than the ones on the men’s plaids but the pattern was similar.
All you had to do to put it on was to fold it several times and drape it over the shoulders like a shawl, fastening it at the chest with pins and a thin leather belt at the waist. It was a little complicated, truth be told, especially the bit where one had to get all the pleats just right at the waist but Sarah felt confident she could master the technique. How hard could it be? Megan had done it in five minutes. Sarah was sure she could follow suit, albeit a lot slower. Oh well, she thought, it would give her something to do in the mornings.
Which led her to spare several thoughts to the things which weren’t so rosy, the room being the obvious front runner.
Sarah was a fan of minimalism herself, she didn’t like clutter either, but Iain’s room was downright Spartan, he had definitely taken the bachelor pad thing way too far.
She hadn’t really noticed much when she had stumbled in here several hours ago, the effect of her altercation with Iain and the embarrassment afterwards had done quite a lot to dampen any curiosity she had had. At that point in time all she had wanted to do was to collapse onto the bed, and hide under the covers.
It was only now, after a good few hours of sleep and a long soak that Sarah was finally beginning to survey her surroundings critically.
Personally, she would change everything about the big room, starting with that heavy, brown animal fur which she had unwittingly used herself. It lay innocently enough, in a rumpled heap on the bed, but that didn’t lessen the fact that it belonged to god only knew what poor animal.
Sarah had deep reservations about sleeping with real fur draped over her every night. Granted it was soft and very warm, but she would insist Iain change it the moment she saw him. It wasn’t like wool hadn’t been invented, she was wearing a dress made of it for god’s sake, they could surely use blankets made of wool too.
The rest of the room was also a big no-no, for one it was almost completely empty, save for the low king size bed she had slept in, and even that wasn’t positioned correctly, one entire side was pushed up against the big stone wall, while the other faced the door. Sarah had no idea why, but it meant standing up and walking over Iain if she ever wanted to leave the room in the middle of the night, and that arrangement didn’t suit her one bit.
But the thing she hated most was the damn windows; there were two of them in the room, one above the bed and the other further along the wall close to the open fireplace. They were the same ones Sarah had seen from outside, and they were just as tiny as she had feared. The worst part of it was that she couldn’t even reach them, that damn shyster of an architect had stuck them in the wall at least 8 feet up. The only way she could get to the window over the bed was by standing up on top of it, and even then all she managed was a peek over the windowsill.
How the hell was she supposed to get proper curtains up there? The ugly brown rags flapping in the wind had to go. They made the place look like a prison cell; all it lacked were the iron bars.
The only additional bit of “furniture” beside the bed was a bulky wooden chest lying underneath the other window. Sarah hadn’t looked inside yet but she had discovered a use for it. Megan had actually stood on the thing to put a few lit tallow candles on the window sill, bathing the dark room with dim light. At least something was functional Sarah told her self.
It seemed she would have to present Iain with a whole new list of complaints when he came to bed tonight. The only problem was that she was a little reluctant to do that, especially after what had transpired between them downstairs.
They always seemed to end up kissing whenever they fought, and this time she was the one who had instigated the whole sorry episode. She had also revealed a lot more of herself than she was willing to. It wouldn’t do her any good if Iain actually realised how much she wanted him. Men were sneaky that way; they used whatever weakness they could find. She was vulnerable where he was concerned, and it was best if he didn’t know that simple fact.
“What dae ye want me tae do wi’ this, Lady Sarah?”
Sarah was snapped out of her reverie by Megan’s soft voice. For a moment she had actually forgotten that the girl was still in the room, standing silently by the door. She had also forgotten all about the item Megan clutched in her hand.
It was the satchel she had brought with her from Lachlan. She must have left it in the hall downstairs when she had run up here like a lunatic. Sarah blushed slightly, more than a little embarrassed, unable to stop herself from remembering the reason for her forgetfulness.
“Is somethin’ wrong?” Megan asked.
“Ahem....no everything is fine” Sarah said clearing her throat, “Just put it by the door.”
“As you wish, Milady,”
Sarah wanted to ask Megan a few questions about the McLaughlin’s; after all she had to ingratiate herself to these people. What better way to do that then by starting early. But right now, standing next to the roaring fireplace, crackling with tiny little sparks from the burning wood, Sarah felt oddly lethargic.
She wanted to forget all her worldly troubles for a bit. The McLaughlin’s didn’t seem so very important at the moment. She needed to be alone for a little while, lately it seemed there were always people around her,
“It is getting late Megan. I am sure you have to get back to your family.”
“Nay Lady Sarah, tis alright,” Megan chirped happily, “I live jest down the hill, ‘twould take me no time tae git home. I can sleep in the hall downstairs if need be.”
“Great” Sarah thought, almost sighing out loud, yet another over eager maid. Her tank of patience was running on pretty low right now. But she still couldnt bring herself to hurt Megan’s feelings.
The girl was obviously as curious about her as she her self was about the McLaughlin’s. Megan had confessed that she hadn’t seen an Englishwoman before, neither had anyone else in the clan. Sarah was certain Megan was just dying to ply her with a million questions; she had that inquisitive air about her. But Sarah was in no mood to answer any questions tonight, she had had enough of making friends for today.
The probing questions could wait until tomorrow, time to be a little more direct. Sarah was just happy Aga wasn’t around, that old buzzard would have been a lot harder to budge.
“I would prefer you went home, Megan,” Sarah began firmly, only to be forestalled by the look on Megan’s face, she looked positively heartbroken.
Sarah felt like she had just kicked an innocent puppy. Bloody hell! She thought, she was going to have to resort to subtlety again, great,
“I am sure your family must be expecting you, Megan, and it is cold downstairs. Surely you would be happier sleeping in your own bed.” Sarah added with a brittle smile on her face. She didn’t sound half as convincing as she wanted to but it would just have to do, “It is getting dark outside.” She prodded lamely, for want of anything better to say.
Megan looked uncertain for a moment, but then she perked up, obviously glad that the new mistress of the house wasn’t out of favour with her.
“Alright Lady Sarah, I will see ye in the morn.” She said, opening the heavy door.
“Are ye certain ye dae nae need anythin’ else?”
“Quite certain,” Sarah replied resolutely, “Goodnight Megan.”
Megan looked back one last time and bowed to her humbly, smiling she left the room. The door clicked closed silently behind her.
The heavy silence was immediately noticeable.
Sarah turned and stared sightlessly into the fireplace. Her smile melted away to be replaced by a thoughtful expression.
For some reason she was fascinated by the sight of the flickering flames licking hungrily at the wood, eating it whole, yet creating something new, heat. How could two things so fundamentally apposed to one another work in such harmony? Living, thriving, only as long as they had each other for support, so very different yet at the same time so alike. They completed each other.
“Yeah right” Sarah thought cynically, now she was being all philosophical too, next thing she knew she would be bawling her eyes out at the sight of a falling leaf.
She was in a very strange mood tonight, and this time she couldn’t blame it on stress or tiredness. Instead she was forced to confront her real feelings, which unfortunately were in too much of an incomprehensible muddle for Sarah to decipher.
One thing however she did know and she couldn’t deny it any longer.
She was sick of lying to herself, of hiding behind a flaky reserve, faking an indignation she didn’t feel anymore. The simple fact she was faced with now had sparked to life within her earlier in the hall. And she was way to mellow to refute it.
She wanted Iain.
Another woman might not have been so oblivious of that, so adamant about not accepting it, so determined in fighting against it.
But Sarah wasn’t any other woman, she was one of those misguided souls who had always derided all forms of romance, she could still recall how she had scoffed at romantic comedies in her day; while all the other girls drooled over some Hollywood heartthrob she had been too busy thinking about a career and independence, no wonder no one invited her to any slumber parties.
Tonight for the first time in her life she was coming to realise what a front she always had on, and what a massive toll it had taken on her.
Her fears and insecurities had been weighing so heavily on her that she had become used to the burden. So much so that until this very moment she had forgotten it even existed. She had allowed it to crystallize like an impenetrable wall around her heart, one that had only gotten bigger as the years had flown by. But Sarah could feel the burden now, weighing her down, suffocating her.
Sarah was forced to confront the truth; underneath it all she was just as mushy as a toasted marshmallow, just as bad as all the rest of them, all those little girls she had always made fun off secretly, with their bed sheet wedding dresses and pillow case veils, and their silly prince charming’s. She wanted the damn fairytale too, and for once she let herself admit that without rancour.
The tiny voice of doom inside told her to fight against the rising torrent of unknown feelings clamouring within her. It urged her to be cautious, begged her to keep things in perspective, telling her to tread carefully. It bombarded her with some other truths,
“This isn’t the life for you!” it shouted, “You will have to leave once Santa comes back for you,” it told her.
She knew she had to go back to the twenty first century, to her regular life, to normality. All things that she had always known, accepted. So why was the voice getting weaker with every desperate word?
In its place another voice was gaining resonance inside her head, one that she had only recently become aware off. A voice that had been getting stronger, slowly, insidiously, ever since she had bumped into a stranger in the dark and stared into a pair of glittering grey eyes.
That voice told her to explore her options, to embrace change. It was a voice that sounded tantalising, enticing, hypnotic, It flooded her mind with endless possibilities. It was a voice she wanted to suppress, to beat down, stifle.
If only it was that simple.
Sarah knew she should be dreading Iain coming to bed tonight. She knew it would only end in them making love again. She was as certain of that as she was of her next breath. But it didn’t bother her. Not tonight, not at that moment, instead it filled her with a sense of inevitability. In her reflective mood she decided to be honest with herself for once.
She had always prided herself on her bravery; her ability to thrive in adversity, to face anything that life threw at her, head on. It was a cruel irony then that the only thing that really frightened her was the wall that existed within her self. She was scared of letting her guard down, she had always been afraid of that. It was funny how she had lived her entire life by the mantra of “Honesty is the best policy,” and yet it was damn hard to actually adopt it when it came to her own feelings.
Even now, teetering on the very edge of reason, she couldn’t quite let go. Maybe in time she would, maybe she wouldn’t, who knew.
One thing was for certain though; tonight would be a defining moment for her and perhaps for Iain too.
Although she was sure he was better equipped to deal with the wild jumble of emotions that were currently plaguing her. The guy didn’t seem to have any of his own, if anything he was even more closeted than her, which made her want to hold onto her sanity even more desperately. It was no use falling for a guy who wouldn’t, or couldn’t return her feelings. That was a recipe for disaster, she concluded.
Now if only she could bring herself to do that most impossible of things, keep sex separate from something else, something that scared the hell out of her. That certain elusive something that was responsible for ruining a million women’s lives every single day.
The dreaded “L” word.
Sarah shook her head, shivering, no way, no way in hell. It was just sex, just sex, she told herself, nothing more.
So she wanted him, big deal, lots of people slept together without any deeper feelings. She could do it too, have her fun and leave when the time came, how hard could it be? She thought stubbornly.
Sex didn’t have to be complicated did it?
It was just a physical pursuit, a matter of mutual gratification, why ruin it with senseless feelings?
She just hadn’t found herself in this situation before, the circumstances were weird, that was all Sarah told herself adamantly. One of these days she would wake up and look back on this whole thing and laugh.
At last she calmed down; her logical side won out once again. It laid waste to all her doubts and fears. She just needed to let go and enjoy herself; it was no use worrying about impossibilities.
Tonight may well be a night of many firsts, but she wasn’t concerned anymore. For this one night, these few hours, Sarah was willing to loosen up and go with the flow. Regrets and recriminations could wait for some other day.