Page 150 of Highlanders for the Holidays
Chapter 7
Bridgett had doneher best to apologize to Onnleigh, as well as to explain why she’d been so jealous.
“I’ve done everythin’ I can think of to get Ronald to look me way. I’ve loved that man since I was seven summers. I was jealous and angry that he should be smilin’ at ye as he was, with yer pretty red hair and yer face.”
Onnleigh stared in abject confusion. “Me face?” she asked, uncertain what her face had to do with anything.
“Och, Onnleigh! Yer beautiful! I cannae compete with ye.”
Closing her eyes, she shook her head as if that would bring come clarity to the situation. “Yer daft. Ye be the beautiful one, Bridgett, nae me. I could nae more turn a man’s head than I could fly.”
Although Darwud had often bespoke on how beautiful he found her, she knew ’twas all a lie. Empty words she had foolishly allowed herself to believe. She was as common as a blade of Highland grass.
“But ye are,” Bridgett argued further. “I ken ye dunnae believe it, but ye are. ’Twas why I grew so jealous. ’Twas a mean and spiteful thing to tell Margaret. I should have known she’d be cruel, but I was so upset and fearful that I’d lose Ronald to ye that I was nae right in me own head.”
Though she did not believe she was beautiful as Bridgett was suggesting, she could understand her fear. She’d been fearful as well an hour ago when she thought Connor was going to make her leave the clan. Fear could make a person do things they might not otherwise do. Such as giving up her own babe.
“Will ye forgive me?” Bridgett asked pitifully.
Onnleigh let out a long sigh. “Aye, I forgive ye. But only if ye promise to come to me first if I e’er do anythin’ to upset ye. Ken me heart and ken that I’d ne’er intentionally bring ye an ounce of pain.”
Bridgett’s shoulders relaxed in relief. “Thank ye, Onnleigh!” she exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around her and hugged tightly.
Unaccustomed to physical displays of emotion or affection, Onnleigh stood rigid for a long moment. The last person who had hugged her had been her mum. In her mind, what she’d done with Darwud on the banks of the stream that day last year did not count. A long moment passed before she felt comfortable enough to return the hug.
“I swear, I’ll make it up to ye someday,” Bridgett said as she pulled away and smiled.
“As long as ye promise to come to me first if I’ve done somethin’ wrong, we shall be friends fer a long while.”
Bridgett seemed pleased with her answer. “I promise, I shall. Now wait here fer a moment, I shall be back shortly.”
Onnleigh returned to her chair by the fire, still wrapped in the drying cloth and blanket. Quietly, she prayed that Margaret would confess soon so that her clothes would be returned to her.
A moment later, Bridgett returned with something draped over her arms. “Connor bade me get ye a dress and chemise. I also found ye some warm woolens and a plaid.”
Surprised, Onnleigh stared up at her. “I dunnae understand,” she said. “All I need is me clothes to be returned. I cannae afford to buy anythin’ yet. I’ve nae been paid me wages.”
Bridgett rolled her eyes as she set the articles on the bed. “Ye dunnae have to purchase these. They be a gift from me to ye. The gown might be a bit tight in the bodice, but I think we can manage.”
Onnleigh stood slowly and stared at the dress Bridgett was holding up for her inspection. ’Twas a beautiful woolen gown, woven in shades of purple and blue the color of the midnight sky. The sleeves were long, the edges trimmed in dark shades of purple as the rest of the dress. ’Twas a color that reminded her of that late hour of the night when the moon did not shine and the sun was just threatening to come up in the east. Inky indigo and purple, dark with a promise of a new day to come.
’Twas a magnificent gown. One she felt wholly unworthy of wearing.
“Do ye like it?” Bridgett asked hopefully
“I cannae wear such a nice gown,” Onnleigh told her breathlessly. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch it, certain ’twas as soft and luxurious as it appeared.
“Och! Dunnae be silly. ’Tis one of me auld gowns me mum made fer me at least three years ago. I want ye to have it. The chemise and woolens too.”
Aside from Connor giving her food to eat, a warm bed to sleep in, and Nola a future, the dress, the clothes, were the single nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. Those tears she’d been fighting back came tumbling down her cheeks. There was naught she could do to stop them.
Attempting to choke them back, she thanked Bridgett repeatedly.
“Think nothin’ of it,” Bridgett said happily. “’Tis the least I could do.”
Nae,she thought to herself.Ye could have done less. Ye could have nae admitted yer mistake. Ye could have turned away from me, to let me suffer alone.
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