Page 50 of The Highlander's Virgin Nun
“Just for a walk with me wife,” Caelan replied.
But she knew he was busier than that, so she waited in silence for a more honest answer.
“I wanted to discuss yer role as Lady Sinclair.”
“I think that’s a good idea. I am unsure what is expected of me, but I intend to fulfill it, whatever it is.”
“I ken ye do,” Caelan murmured.
He led them to the edge of the village, where the gardens were. There were rows upon rows of vegetables growing in the soil—carrots, onions, potatoes, and turnips. Many had started to sprout, and a few villagers walked through the rows, tending to them.
These vegetables fed the castle and the villagers all year round, and the plants required constant care to stay fruitful. At the end of the vegetable patch were long rows of fruit trees, growing apples, oranges, and lemons.
Caelan led them through the rows of vegetables and towards the trees.
“As ye have seen, this isnae a clan run on fear. I dinnae order and punish me servants into subservience. We are well-managed, and me servants are paid for their time. They should respect ye out of mutual respect. Therefore, ye arenae expected to become a dictator.”
“Exactly how I would prefer it,” Rosaline murmured.
It was the first time she had clarity on why all of the servants were so pleasant with Caelan and the rest of the Moore family. She had always suspected they were instructed to appear that way but had never found proof. They truly were there because they were treated fairly and justly.
“However, I do need yer help on other matters.”
“Of course.”
“Apart from growin’ and carin’ for our child, which will become the priority as yer pregnancy progresses and will come second to nay other duty, I would like ye to be a part of the council.”
Rosaline jerked her head up in surprise. “But only men sit on the council.”
“Nay, me maither always did, and Alexandra could if she wanted to. I appreciate a woman’s viewpoint on trivial clan matters. Men are inclined to attack and defend, whereas women are more likely to slow down, consider, and plan. I need that logic on me council.”
“But I ken very little about clan matters, warfare, or politics.”
“Nay, but ye are clever and careful. Ye are subtle, and ye survived a lot. I would like yer insight on defense strategies.”
Rosaline tried to digest his words. She had never been praised for her personality in such a way before.
She figured her ability to remain silent and invisible by following orders was a weakness. She had always believed that she was taking the coward’s way out. She had never considered it a clever survival strategy, one that got her through the torture at the Abbey and out the other side of it.
“All right,” she agreed after a few moments’ thought. “I dinnae ken if I will be of great use to ye, but I can certainly try.”
“Good.” Caelan nodded once. “I would also like ye to learn self-defense techniques.”
Rosaline was even more confused now. Women were never trained to fight. She did not even have the words to inquire.
“I am nae suggestin’ a full soldier’s trainin’, and I am nae askin’ ye to kill in cold blood. However, I want ye to ken how to use a shield. I want ye to see how people fight, how they trick, so if anyone ever tries to come at ye or our child, ye would be able to defend yerself. I hope that never happens, but if it does, I will be right by yer side to fight for ye. But we must prepare for everythin’ in order to ward off whatever comes our way.”
“Aye,” Rosaline murmured. “I will learn.”
She was unsure, and all this talk of self-defense was worrying her. She knew that Caelan was always under threat—he had explained that to her. But this seemed like an excessive and sudden amount of preparation. Still, she wanted to be prepared.
Maybe this was just about bringing her up to his level of preparedness, and as his wife, she had to obey.
“Other than that, yer time is yer own. Ye may read as much as ye like, go ridin’, embroider with Alexandra—do anythin’ ye like. This is yer home now; ye are nay longer a guest. Ye should make yerself comfortable here.”
Rosaline considered his words. They were hard to digest.
The concept of home and freedom was foreign to her after so many years under the nuns’ rule. She was just beginning to find out who she was, rediscovering her likes and dislikes. It was a pleasure to be able to do so, but she was still holding back. She knew that at some point, she would have to start trusting that this life really was hers and relax into it.
