Page 2 of A Two-Faced Laird
Lewis’s protective arm was around her shoulders, and she nestled further against him as he spoke to Aidan. He always made her feel so safe, and although the boys looked very alike, Edina knew she would never feel about Aidan the way she felt about Lewis. She adored him.
“Do you not think you should say sorry, Aidan?” Lewis sounded slightly threatening.
“I will say sorry if she does,” Aidan said grudgingly, pointing at Edina.
Edina had no hesitation. “I am sorry, Aidan,” she said. “It was silly of me to jump on you like that.”
“Then I am sorry, too.”
Aidan came forward to shake Edina’s hand, forgetting that it was the injured one, and she winced a little but gallantly said nothing. Even at the tender age of seven, she was learning the subtle art of diplomacy.
They began to walk back towards the castle, and the two boys walked on either side of Edina to keep the bushes away from her.
“I am going to Inverness for school next month,” she announced suddenly.
The two boys looked at her, both amazed and puzzled.
“Why?” Lewis asked. “Can they not find you one here?”
“I am staying with my auntie and uncle,” Edina began, “Mother’s family comes from there, and she wants me to get to know them. There is a very good girls’ school there that will teach me how to do a lot of useful and clever things. Oh, and I will learn to become a lady too!”
The brothers exchanged glances.
“What do you have to learn to become a lady?” Lewis asked. “I thought you only had to grow up.”
“I think you have to be able to draw and paint and play the piano,” Edina answered. “And dance. Then you have to learn manners, and what to wear, and how to talk to people.”
“But you can talk to people already.” Aidan frowned. “You are talking now.”
Edina shrugged. “Yes, but Mother says I will understand better as I grow older.”
“Maybe she means learning a foreign language,” Lewis mused. “I would like to do that.”
“Which one would you like to learn?” Aidan was intrigued.
“French,” Lewis answered promptly.
“Me too,” agreed Aidan.
“Me three,” Edina chimed in, giggling.
They ambled home, and despite her injured hand and her mother’s wrath at her shredded and filthy dress, Edina would remember it as being one of the happiest days of her life.
1
Edina would never forget the sense of wonder that possessed her as she gazed up at Achnabreck Castle again. She had forgotten its sheer size and the air of might and power it exuded as it stood on top of the highest hill for miles around. It was as though the castle were a monarch demanding subservience from his subjects, the low-lying lands at its feet. As her carriage wound its way up the twisting road to the summit, she looked back then saw how far up they had come and felt slightly scared.
However, something else was making her afraid too. Her parents had visited her often in Inverness, and she had seen all her cousins and their friends there too, and made quite a few of her own, so she had never been lonely. Yet from the day she left until today she had not been back to Achnabreck for a single visit, so it was eleven years since she had seen it. She was frightened that it had changed so much she would not be able to recognise it.
As they drew into the outer courtyard, she could not see anything that had changed from the last time she had been there. Except—somethingfeltdifferent. She alighted from thecarriage and looked around, taking in every pillar and corbel, every flagstone and carved angel. No, it was all just as she had left it. And yet, it was not.
Edina told herself she was being fanciful. She had been seven years old—a child—the last time she had laid eyes on this place, and she was now eighteen and a grown woman. Nothing about Achnabreck had changed, but she, Edina McCarthy, had. Before, she had looked at everything through the innocent eyes of a little girl, but now that she had a certain amount of maturity, she hoped, and wisdom. She was seeing it through new eyes.
At that moment, she caught sight of her mother, who was hovering in the courtyard waiting to meet her. Edina braced herself for the usual onslaught of hugging and fussing, but reminded herself that things could be much worse. At least her mother and father loved her, which was more than she could say for some of her friends’ parents.
She was right. She had no sooner had the carriage door opened for her and put a foot on the flagstone than she was enveloped in a tight, smothering maternal hug. Her mother said nothing for a moment, and despite Edina’s reservations about her mother’s overwhelming show of emotion, she nestled into the embrace. The gesture had sustained and given her love, and support since before she was born. There was no one who could replace her mother. Edina breathed in her warm, comforting scent and was glad.
When she had finished, she looked around for her father, who was nowhere to be seen.
