Page 30 of Marry the Highland Villain
There were, however, some exceptions to his lack of interest in the feelings of those around him. Devon had been one of them, and Oliver another. Conall might not like to admit it, but he cared deeply about what his brothers thought of him, and when Oliver and Emily married, he’d quickly added Emily’s name to that list.
And now Brigid’s.
He cared what Brigid thought of him and how his actions made her feel. And he had not failed to notice that the maid wasn’t the only one whose smile had dimmed during their interaction. Brigid, too, had been disappointed to see the fear in the girl’s eyes at the sight of her Laird, and that disappointment was something Conall hated to see.
Brigid emerged, at last, holding a steaming mug of hot milk for herself and a tankard for him.
Conall smiled grimly, the scar tugging at his mouth as he did so. “Thank ye.” He gestured to the doors. “I was plannin’ to tak’ a stroll around the garden and the wall-top if ye’d care to join me.”
“I would like that very much,” Brigid replied, sipping her milk. “Emily has shown me around most of the rooms in the castle—especially the first day, when we went explorin’ to find things for my room—but I’ve yet to see much of the grounds.”
“Things for yer room?” Conall frowned.
He knew he’d had the servants furnish a chamber for her. Why, then, did she need to find ‘things’ for it?
“Aye. Just some furniture to make me feel more at home. Rugs and wall hangings to give the bare stone some color. And of course, clothing and the like. Emily was sure we’d be able to find some things that were more to my taste, and she was right.” Brigid glanced at him, and her voice faltered, suddenly uncertain. “Was she nae supposed to do that? I ken it was a bit forward of me to go rummagin’ through the supplies ye have inyer castle, even with yer sister-in-law. If I shouldnae have done so?—”
“Nay. ’Tis well enough.” Conall took a sip of his drink and made an effort to smooth away the anger—or whatever it was she must have seen on his face that had made her suddenly so uncertain.
In truth, he was angry at himself for not having thought of such things. Brigid was to be his wife, and he’d not even thought to see to her comfort adequately or to ask what she might need to make her comfortable.
What would ye have done, ye great fool, if Emily hadnae stepped in? A fine thing it would be if ye led yer wife to the altar in naught but rags and left her in a room that was more empty than the servants’ quarters!
Of course, Oliver would probably say she deserved no more consideration than that. But Conall was not Oliver, and Brigid had not done anything to warrant such treatment.
He took another swig of his mead. “Did ye find the things ye wanted, or is there anythin’ else ye need? Are ye comfortable?”
“Aye. We found a number of dresses and plenty of fabric. Emily is helpin’ me sew my wedding dress. An’ we found some lovely wall hangings, a table, some chairs… and most of the rest of what I needed we found at the market earlier today. I’m very comfortable now, thank ye.”
“’Tis good.” Conall offered her the smallest of smiles. It made his scar ache, but he offered it nonetheless as he held the door to the garden open. “This is yer home now, so ye can make use of anything ye want.”
“Thank ye.” Brigid’s voice was soft, but he saw a shadow of melancholy in her eyes.
Too late, he remembered that she’d been taken, as she said, from the only home she’d ever known.
But there was nothing to be done about that now. Instead, he nodded toward the grounds. “Come and see the garden and the stables.”
With that, he led her out into the evening air.
Brigid knew Conall was trying his best to be kind and considerate. He was certainly proud of his castle, and for good reason. It was well-built, sturdy and strong, the grounds well-tended and pleasing to the eye.
The stables housed many lovely horses—far more than she’d ever been around before, even in the nearby village. Her family had never had more than three or four, and all but one of those had been sold at some point after her mother’s death.
Her father had built a home that was large, comfortable, and easily defensible, but he’d never lavished much by way of goods on it, nor made it much bigger than it needed to be for their family. His home had always been the sea, and though he made life on land as comfortable as could be for his wife and children, he’d seen no reason to spend his money on those extra little touches that would have made it home for himself as well.
Conall, however, clearly loved the stones and the high walls of MacKane Castle with a passion. He was proud of the fortifications, the walls, the training yard, and the stables.
The garden, he admitted, he’d done very little with—gardens were not the province of a warrior—but he was clearly fond of the flowers his mother had once planted, and which Emily and the servants now tended.
It was a lovely garden, even more extensive than the one Lily had cultivated at home, which was filled with sweet-smelling herbs and other medicinal plants, with only a few decorative flowers near the house and around the edges of their lands to brighten the place.
A beautiful garden, strong fortifications, and a castle full of places to explore—it was something Brigid had dreamed about after listening to Valerie’s stories of some of the places she’d seen while traveling with their father.
But it wasn’t home. Or, at least, it wasn’therhome.
It wasn’t the familiar building where she could retrace every step in the dark. It was too large, too echoing, with too much noise. Too many people. Her home had rarely ever held more than her immediate family members. Just her parents and her sisters—sometimes members of her father’s crew, in between voyages. She was unused to the soft bustle of servants in the halls, the unfamiliar sounds, the strange people, the long confusing corridors, and the many sets of stairs, which she was certain she would never find her way around.
Conall and Emily were clearly trying to make her feel welcome, but there was nothing familiar here, and, to a woman who had never been parted from her home or family before, it was impossible not to feel lost and alone.
