Page 11 of Saved By the Highland Beast
His back was bent and frail as he hobbled along with a walking cane. He was the kind of man that one could tell had been handsome in his youth. Just how long ago that youth was, was open for debate. His hair was peppery grey with long strands of auburn streaks, all pulled together at the back of his head in a braid. His eyes were light brown, and they would twinkle whenever he spoke.
“Is this the lass?” he yelled at Hamish and pointed at Sophia with his cane.
“You’d be surprised if she wasn’t,” Hamish muttered under his breath.
“What? What do ye mean surely she has pies?” the old man yelled again with one hand cupping his ear.
“Nae pies! Surprise!” Hamish rolled his eyes before patiently bending down and speaking in slow syllables. “This. Is. Sophia. Harrison. Duncan.”
“Dinnae yell at me, ye over-bloated goat,” Duncan said as he squinted at him. “I’m nae dead yet, ye only need to speak up.”
Hamish sighed and rolled his eyes before turning to Sophia. “I beg yer pardon for all the yellin’, milady. This is Duncan Murdoch, uncle to the laird and brother to his late mother. Ye will have to speak up, as he’s a wee bit hard of hearin’.”
“What’s that? I dinnae like herrin’, awful fish.” Duncan pulled a face and stuck out his tongue. “I prefer wild salmon caught with me own two hands.”
“Nae, Duncan, nae… Herrin’…” Hamish pinched the bridge of his nose. “I dinnae have time for this,” he muttered under his breath. “Good luck.” He gave Sophia a look before leaving them alone.
“I thought ye were a lass.” Duncan eyed her clothing suspiciously. “Why are ye dressed as a lad? I’ll nae have any kind of funny business here in the castle.”
“Oh, no,” Sophia hurried to explain, “I’m only wearing this because I was attacked. One of the men was kind enough to lend me some clothes. I’ll change as soon as I can find a proper dress.”
Duncan stared at her blankly for a moment with his mouth slightly agape, revealing several missing teeth. “What?”
Sophia stood frozen to the spot, unsure of how to continue a conversation with a man who was not only hard of hearing and spoke a different language but seemed old enough to be courting methuselah himself.
“Well?” he barked at her again. “Dinnae just stand there lass.” He looked her up and down. “If ye are a lass that is. We need to get on with the tour of the castle.” He turned around and began to hobble away from her. “Come on, Miss Haddison.”
“It’s actually Harrison,” Sophia said quickly as she ran to catch up with him, pulling on the sides of the trousers to keep them from catching on her shoes.
“What? Madison? That’s nae what they said yer name was.”
“No, it’s H.A.R.R.I.S.O.N,” she mouthed the letters in an attempt to help him hear. “Sophia Harrison.”
“Soapy Haddison? Sounds like a sailor’s name to me, or some poorly cooked kind of fish.”
“No, Sophia Harrison,” she corrected, raising her voice a few octaves.
“That’s what I said.” He looked at her with a frown. “Haddison.”
“No…” she said slowly but then decided to let it go.
“Oh.” He paused as if a light had suddenly gone on in the back of his mind. “Are ye a fool? Is that why yer dressed like that?” He squinted as he eyed her clothes. “Are ye here to provide the lad with entertainment? I thought ye were here to be his tutor.”
“No…”
She strained for the words to try and explain to the old man exactly what had happened to her. Suddenly having an idea, she walked over to a nearby trough and used one of the straw training dummies that had been left outside to illustrate her story.
“I was riding my horse, and stopped,” she said loudly, making galloping motions to try and show that she was riding a horse. “When I stopped.” She took a wide step as if she were climbing down from a saddle. “I was attacked by Englishmen.” She ran over to the dummy and used its arm to try and smack herself in the head. “I tried to fight them off.” She smacked the dummy in the face. “But they tore my clothes.” She pulled on the oversized shirt she was wearing.
Duncan watched her with a puzzled expression on his face when Dean came walking up from behind.
Sophia stopped what she was doing and blushed.
“What’s goin’ on here?” the laird asked with a matching expression of confusion. He looked almost boyish, which made him adorable. Sophia tried to push the thought out of her mind.
Duncan leaned in a bit closer and whispered to his nephew, “I dinnae think the fool ye brought back is any good. She keeps on mimin’ a skit, an’ I cannae make head or tails of what she’s on about. If I were ye, I’d send her back and ask for a new one.”
The laird looked up and cocked his head to the side as he stared at her, waiting for her to explain her side of events.
