Hello There,
To all my patiently waiting fans and the readers, I have been overwhelmed with all the requests for updating this novel, and believe me it has made me feel very guilty for not posting new chapters for so very long. But I finally found a little time to post a small chapter, I know it isn’t a long one, actually it is kinda half a chapter but this is all I was able to edit before I got sidetracked, just decided to put this one up to show all you guys that I haven’t finished with this story, I am determined to complete it. Both Sarah and Iain deserve that.......it might take me longer than anticipated but as long as u guys want to read this, I will keep coming back, even if it isn’t as often as I would like.
I pray and I hope u guys enjoy this chapter, it was so lovely just losing myself in this story for just a little bit, it rejuvenated me somewhat........
plz read and don’t forget to tell me what u think, plz be honest, I haven’t written for so long I think I have forgotten how to, so I am very nervous about putting this up, but I decided to work past the fear and do it,
I hope it doesn’t back fire!
Sarah felt miserable.
The bright rays of sunlight filtering into the dimly lit room did little to lift her sombre mood. She had woken up from a restless and rather unsatisfying sleep about an hour ago. And all she had managed to do in that damnable hour was to toss and turn as if she had hot coals under her arse.
Sarah Knew she looked a right old mess, she was lying there without a stitch of clothing on, her red hair was a wildly tangled mass on her head, and she was currently sporting a less than becoming expression on her face. To make things worse she was also holding onto the natty brown fur like it was her favourite cuddly toy when only last night she had demanded Iain throw it out the window. But the worst part of it was that Sarah couldn’t even rouse herself enough to give a damn.
All she could do at the moment was lie there atop the rumpled covers broodingly lost in her own morbid thoughts.
God only knew what time it was, not that it mattered to her one bit.
Sarah had never felt this despondent in her entire life; and that was saying a lot because the last few weeks in her topsy-turvy existence had certainly been no cake walk.
Her previous excitement about a new life in the Highlands had evaporated into thin air, along with all her cautious optimism regarding the future. The myriad half formed plans she had concocted in her head about making a new start and winning everyone over like the belle of the ball had also pretty much bit the dust by now.
And once again there was but one person responsible for the entire sorry mess, a certain someone who had left her here all alone and slinked out of bed like a stranger in the dark while she had been fast asleep, not even bothering to say goodbye.
O.K so maybe she couldn’t quite lay all the blame at Iain’s feet, she might just have had a little something to do with this latest turn of events, but that still didn’t excuse his complete lack of manners.
It rankled quite a bit for Sarah to concede that some of the fault, at least this time, might just be hers, and it made the whole situation so much harder to bear too. Things were always better when everything was entirely Iain’s fault, Sarah concluded childishly.
Try as she might Sarah still couldn’t bring her self to accept anything but the smallest proportion of the blame for their altercation, maybe ten, no five percent tops.
What had he expected anyway?
You don’t just dump someone into an alien environment after one night there.
She had had a right to be angry, perhaps her way of expressing that anger was a little extreme but the sentiment was valid. Telling a woman you’re going to leave in the morning for God knows how long, right after making passionate love to her, is a good way to lose an eye.
All things considered Iain had gotten off lightly.
So why was it then, that she felt as guilty as hell?
Sarah sighed heavily as her thoughts strayed to last night. Everything had been so amazing. She had never imagined it could feel so “right” between a man and a woman, and she was the first to concede the stupidity of that particular cliché. Nevertheless it was true, Iain had quite literally blown her mind last night, rocked her world so to say, and the niggling little aches and pains she was experiencing at the moment in muscles she didn’t even know she possessed were a testament to that fact.
For the whole experience to be ruined by a single argument was beyond sad. The annoying part was that there hadn’t even been an argument; Iain had just turned away. She might have hashed things out with him if he had fought back but he had chosen instead to shut himself off from her completely. And that was the scary bit, how quickly he could do that, it made her feel hopeless about any future reconciliation.
Last night Sarah had realised how cold Iain could be. He kept his emotions under a very tight leash; somehow in the heat of their passion she had been foolish enough to forget that little fact. Sarah had a feeling he wouldn’t be opening up to her again, at least not anytime soon, which made her want to cry, but she didn’t, because it also left her seething with resentment.
Sarah winced when she thought of what she had said to him.
In the cold morning light she realised she would give anything to take her rash words back. But that was the problem with hindsight, all it did was underline the folly of your actions, the damage had already been done, it was too late to fix things now. The hurt she had glimpsed in Iain’s eyes before they had glazed over with cold indifference still made her cringe.
Before last night she had never purposefully set out to hurt any one in her entire life. Granted she had a tendency to say whatever the hell she wanted, and more often than not she did put her foot right in it, but her words always stemmed from an innate sense of honesty.
Alas, Sarah now realised that she hadn’t been very honest last night, not with Iain and not with herself; she had been instead, for want of a kinder word, an utter and complete bitch, and a vindictive one at that, the very worst kind.
The fact that she had meant what she had said at the time, made her feel even worse. For that one crazy second Sarah really would have damned him to hell. She had felt so angry, so hurt, and so damn insecure that she had hit out at him blindly. And it had ended up hurting her way more than it had hurt him.
Yesterday her life had made sense, she had been certain of what to do next, confident and resolute as always.
Just one night of wild lovemaking had completely changed everything; her priorities, her desires, her plans, had all been blown into disarray.
All because the impossible had happened; Sarah Baker had fallen in love.
She had been forced to acknowledge it to her self for the very first time last night. Secretly she knew it had happened long before then, “when” and “why” exactly Sarah didn’t know and nor did she care.
She loved Iain, and all that life changing admission had accomplished thus far was to make her feel alone and afraid. Plus that bloody brute didn’t deserve one ounce of her love, Sarah told herself crossly, what he deserved was a size thirteen boot whacked across his backside.
But there it was, the die had been cast, she was in love with an uncaring arsehole and a fat load of good it had done her so far.
If this is what they called love, this dejected feeling of complete despair and utter hopelessness, than Sarah could finally comprehend why so many great poets who wrote flowery odes to it had only ended up committing suicide.
She had never fancied herself as one of those women who fell in love at the drop of a hat; as far as she was concerned love was just a word, a word they used to sell perfume bottles and cheap valentine gifts, the kind with tasty treats concealed in heart shaped boxes. Ironic then that she had succumbed to the “L” word without even realising it until it was too bloody late.
In just a few days Iain had made a complete mockery of everything she had thought about herself.
Oh, she had fallen hard alright, and fast.
There was absolutely no point in damage control now.
Sarah wanted to kick herself for being such an idiot. Of all the men to fall for, Iain was the worst possible choice.
He was cold, unreachable, and just about as emotional as a deep freezer. She doubted he even had a heart. The only feelings he did possess were dedicated to his wretched Highlands and being head honcho here, the man was no knight in shining armour.
And then an image of him smiling down at her flashed in her head, making her feel wistful.
For those few minutes before she had screwed everything up, Iain had actually been very sweet. He had even softened enough to smile at her warmly and look at her as if he really might care.
Sarah slammed herself for that errant thought; imagine being satisfied with just a smile. God, she wanted to smack him for making her feel like this. Here she lay, day-dreaming about the guy like Juliet’s heart broken ghost while he was off on one of his violent campaigns, no doubt gouging some poor man’s eyes out with his sword.
It was pathetic, Sarah told herself. Where the hell was her bravado, her can-do spirit, her devil may care attitude?
The trick was to drag her self out of this damn funk before it took hold permanently.
So what if she fancied herself in love? So what if Cupid’s big fat arrow had lodged itself squarely in her arse? Life didn’t end because Sarah Baker had inexplicably surrendered to the dreaded four letter word. The one beginning with “L” that is, even though the other one with the “F” was also busy circling in her head at the same time.
A gentle knock on the door finally ended Sarah’s self reflection, which was a bloody relief as far as she was concerned.
“Come in,” she called out; sitting up quickly and running anxious fingers through her tangled mane, which only made it worse. But even the fact that she probably looked like Frankenstein’s bride didn’t quell her relief, she needed to focus on something else, anything else other than Iain and her feelings.
The door opened to reveal Megan standing in the hallway.
She did a slight double take when she saw Sarah holding onto the sheets like a guilty virgin, but Megan didn’t display one iota of surprise as she bid Sarah a happy “good morning”.
Sarah had the grace to blush but she somehow kept a lid on her embarrassment, long enough to croak out “good morning” herself.
Megan was holding onto the handles of a shallow bowl with a washcloth folded over one shoulder. And she was not alone, there was another young woman standing beside her, whom she quickly introduced as Anna.
This one was tall and as skinny as a scarecrow, she reminded Sarah of miss Almira Gunch from the wizard of oz, the lady who turned into the wicked witch in Judy Garland's dream. Sarah admonished herself for that unkind comparison. Afterall she did have glossy raven hair, which lay across one skinny shoulder in a long braid.
Sarah smiled wanly at the girl but she wasn’t paid back in kind, instead Anna deigned to nod ever so briefly in response.
Sarah could feel herself go as red as a beetroot, she didn’t dare think of the first impression she must be making on this stranger. The girl must think her a right old trollop Sarah decided. Indeed Anna’s eyes had widened just a bit when she had first looked at her.
Sarah almost cringed, she didn’t want to know what this girl would be telling the rest of the staff when they asked her about the new mistress. Probably something along the lines of “you should have seen her sitting naked in the bed, holding onto a fur............”
The thing that finally made Sarah straighten her spine however and wipe the embarrassment from her face was the disapproving expression that flitted across the girls face. Sarah didn’t like being judged, nor did she enjoy the way Anna had looked at her just a moment ago, with her broad nose up in the air and her thin lips pursed.
Time to buck up, Sarah told herself firmly, looking the skinny Anna right in the eyes.
Her opponent quickly lowered her gaze.
Good! Sarah thought, she didn’t like the uppity types, she never had. Matronly and severe chicks weren’t Sarah’s cup of tea and she had a feeling Anna was both those things.
Maybe if she got rid of the “I Smelled a Fart” expression on her angular face she might have looked a lot prettier. But even though her eyes were lowered her expression remained the same. It was quite obvious this stranger was not too enamoured with her Sarah decided, or else she was suffering from a very strong case of constipation.
Unfortunately Anna’s reaction to her was faintly familiar. It was the same look Sarah had seen on the faces of some of the men in the bailey yesterday. She had no idea what the pinched, non-committal look tightening the woman’s bony face meant but her reaction to it was the same as it had been then, it made her feel uncomfortable and just a little bit hot under the collar.
“I am glad ye are awake, Lady Sarah.” Megan said warmly, “I dinnae want tae disturb ye.”
“You didn’t Megan.” Sarah replied, squarely ignoring Anna,” I was just about to get dressed and make my way downstairs as a matter of fact.” She lied; she didn’t want Anna to think her a lazy slob, she had her pride after all.
“What time is it Megan?”
“Tis just past noon, Lady Sarah.”
Sarah’s face fell. She couldn’t believe she had overslept that long. No wonder the other woman had looked at her with barely concealed censure, her husband had left to fight in some God damn battle and she hadn’t even seen him off. The McLaughlin’s probably thought she was some kind of spoiled English princess. An impression Sarah had wanted to avoid setting on her very first day in the Highlands.
“Dinnae fret Lady Sarah.” Megan reassured her, “Ye deserved yer sleep. I cannae imagine how tirin’ the journey ‘ere must have been fer ye.”
Even though Sarah was grateful for Megan’s quiet understanding, she had a distinct feeling Megan was a rarity here in the Highlands.
“Anna works in the keep too,” Megan said almost as an afterthought.
“Hello Anna,” Sarah said, injecting as much friendliness as she could manage into her words, “It is nice to meet you.”
It didn’t work.
All she got in return to that declaration was a haughty nod. Skinny Anna didn’t even have the decency to open her mouth.
Her reaction stung, but Sarah rallied immediately. It didn’t matter one bit to her what the pinch faced Anna thought anyway, if she didn’t want to be friends then she could be a servant instead. Sarah had bent over backwards trying to fit in all the time she had been here in the Middle Ages.
Enough was enough, she wasn’t going to smile and be nice to everything that moved, why should she? it had done her very little good anyway. In that moment Sarah made a monumental decision. She was going to be herself from now on. If people didn’t like her than at least they wouldn’t like the real her instead of some toned-down demure version of herself.
“What is that Megan?”
Megan didn’t answer for a second. She was busy frowning at Anna, “Tis water from the kitchen Milady. Fer ye tae freshen up.”
“Why thank you Megan. That was very thoughtful.”
“Off course Milady,”
Megan looked daggers at her companion but it didn’t seem to sway the robotic Anna. She merely stood by silently like a mannequin in a shop window.
“Pull that trunk towards the bed Anna,” Megan said with a little bit of a snap creeping into her dulcet voice, “I cannae keep holding onto the water all day.”
Anna hissed in a breath but she held her tongue. Sarah was fascinated by the interplay between both the girls. There seemed to be something deeper festering between them.
The trunk lurched drunkenly across the floor as Anna pulled it towards the bed. It wasn’t easy, Sarah could tell, the thing must weigh a ton and the irregular stone floor didn’t make the task any less problematic.
Sarah almost volunteered to help but then she stopped herself. She really didn’t want to help, plus she had a feeling Anna wouldn’t appreciate the offer anyway.
Anna finally accomplished the task but she did not seem too happy about it. She was breathing a little heavily and there were beads of sweat on her forehead. Her blue eyes flashed with real fire, but this time their derision was aimed entirely at her fellow clanswoman. It didn’t faze Megan one bit. Megan just smiled like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth and walked over to place the bowl of steaming hot water on top of the gnarly trunk.
“Go downstairs and git Ceana tae fix Lady Sarah’s meal fer her. And tell her tae be quick about it, Laird Hugh had tae wait more than an hour fer his pottage this morning.” Megan said over her shoulder, rattling off orders like an army general, “I will stay ‘ere and help Milady git ready,”
Anna flounced out of the room without another word. Megan stared at her departing back with a self satisfied look on her pretty face.
Sarah chuckled, “I think you enjoyed that a little too much Megan,”
Megan had the grace to blush, “Dinnae worry about the likes of Anna, Milady. She will come around. It jest takes the clan a little time tae git used tae change.”
Sarah suppressed the frown that threatened to break on her unlined forehead. She smiled tightly instead. Megan had, in her own subtle way, just given her a warning. Sarah was sure Megan wanted to prepare her for her reception here in the Highlands. The people here could be rough and unwelcoming; skinny Anna had just underlined those facts.
Sarah decided to grow a thicker shell to counter any negative reactions. Anna had definitely taken her off guard, especially after the acceptance both Megan and Aga had showered on her, but next time she would be more prepared.
Plus she had no intention of embroiling others in her battles. It was sweet of Megan to stand up for her, but it wasn’t wise of her to do that. It might alienate her from the rest of her friends. And Sarah didn’t want that to happen.
“Who is Laird Hugh, Megan?”
“He is a relative of the Laird, Milady.” Megan answered, “I imagine ye met him yesterday,”
Sarah was puzzled. She hadn’t met anyone yesterday apart from Megan and Aga.
Then she winced, finally remembering. Iain had addressed that old man who had barged in on them as Hugh.
Great! Just great! She had so hoped she wouldn’t run into that old coot any time soon.
“Is something wrong, Lady Sarah?”
“No nothing Megan,” Sarah replied, “I am afraid I was just lost in my own thoughts,”
Megan smiled, “Now let us git ye ready Milady. Laird Hugh ‘as been waitin’ all morning fer ye in the hall downstairs,”
Sarah sighed; she couldn’t muster one jot of enthusiasm for the eminent meeting with the aged peeping tom. If he said anything about yesterday and that first encounter Sarah was pretty sure she would die of embarrassment.
She splashed her face with the now warm water to hide the blush that had crept up her pale cheeks while Megan stood by with the washcloth.
Sarah sighed as she took the cloth from Megan.
Today had not started off well and it looked like it was just about to get even worse.