“Go on and get back to the longhouse. Ye will not leave it until I permit ye to do so. And tell Eva that I will come as soon as I am able. I must handle some clan matters.” Breckin waved them away.
He sighed wearily because that talk had been long in coming. Now, he had to make good on his promise to his brothers. It was time that he ceased ignoring them and forgoing the promises made to his da. He needed to be better at guiding his brothers and making them what his father had made of him—an honorable, but fierce Buchanan warrior.
Chapter Eighteen
Throughout the morning,Eva kept busy doing her chores. She rummaged through the sacks of clothing from the carts. Within the sacks were chemises, fur-trimmed overdresses and mantles, headdresses, shoes, belts, capes, and cloaks. There were also small boxes that held brooches, chains, and rings.
Now that she knew the trunk belonged to Breckin’s sister, she intended to put her clothing in it, and one day, give it to her daughter. Hopefully, by then, Breckin would be able to talk about his sister and tell their children about their aunt.
She only kept two more elaborate dresses for special occasions and the rest were more suitable for daily wear. Being in the Highlands, she suspected that she’d get more use of her daily wear overdresses than anything ornate or embellished.
She knelt in front of the trunk and opened it. It was empty, save for a small bulge in the silk (?) lining on the right side. Eva used her fingers to open the slit of the fabric and pulled out two folded pieces of parchment. Her curiosity spurred her to open the first piece of parchment which appeared to have been torn from a volume, and she read:
Soon I will be a married woman. My heart belongs to William and I cannot wait to be his wife. Yet a distressing situation has arisen because I have spoken to Danella. She claims that she has alwaysbeen intended for William and that my betrothal to him is but a way to thwart the Buchanans. When I asked William about it, he declared it to be true. He’d been betrothed to Danella when he was born. He professes to love me still but I fear he does not. I must warn Breckin of the possible danger but I intend to question Danella further to find out what she meant. ~M.B.
Eva’s mouth hung open as she perused the lines again. The page must have been torn from a personal volume of Marian’s. Why would Marian hide the parchment in her trunk? Perhaps she didn’t want Breckin to find it before she might speak to him of the matter. Eva pressed the parchment against her chest and was saddened at the thought that Marian took her life because she could not marry William. The lass had a broken heart. Had Marian discovered that Danella was right and that William also coveted a marriage with Danella? There were more questions than answers, and Eva sighed, suspecting the answers may never come.
The second parchment was written by Breckin’s mother and was directed to Conner and Caden. In it, she praised them and bade them to follow their brother’s lead and become great Buchanan warriors.
Eva stared at the lines written in her husband’s mother’s hand. It brought a sense of melancholy for the lads because she too missed having a mother. Unlike the lads, though, she had never met her mother or had memories to hold on to. She had to wonder if Marian had put the message in the trunk before she died and had not ever given it to the lads.
With a sniffle and wipe of her eye, she folded the parchments and tucked both parchments in the seam of her overdress for safekeeping. She would show them to Breckin when he returned. Apparently, he’d never opened the trunk and seen the missives. Or perhaps he had; she had no way to tell until she spoke with him. But she was sure the lads would like to have the message from their mother and would give it to them that night.
When she finished setting the garments inside the trunk, she closed the lid and headed to the kitchen area. She found the lads sitting at the table. They were unusually quiet and still.
“What has your tongues this day?” She smiled to offer sincerity, but they squirmed in their seats and didn’t look at her; instead, they appeared most severe. She tried again. “Why are you inside? ’Tis a fine day to be outside. I’d think you would be out causing havoc—”
“Connor and me…Well, when we left earlier and visited the market, we took a piece of your looking glass. Ye were busy with Master Amos and we used the glass to light the grass.”
Caden held his head with his hands and muttered, “It caught a seller’s stall alight. We are being punished and are not allowed to leave the longhouse. We have not been the best of brothers to Breckin. When he left us, he was mightily disappointed in us.”
Eva took the bench across from them and peered at their distraught faces. “Breckin returned? When?”
“Aye, he returned a short time ago,” Connor supplied. “He told us to tell ye that he would come after he took care of clan matters.”
Eva thought that he should have come straight to the longhouse. He’d been gone for almost a fortnight and she was still the last thing on his mind. With a discontented sigh, she shook away the trepidation. “You should not have used the glass to light the grass but I am sorry you got in trouble. Maybe your punishment will not be so severe.” Eva took a slice of bread from the basket in the center of the table.
“He took away our horses,” Connor said woefully. “We’re not allowed to ride until he gives his permission.”
“Yes. And Breckin vowed to take our training more seriously.” Caden pushed the bowl with a spread toward her.
She used a supper dagger to smear it on the bread. “That is good to hear, Caden. I know that Breckin is concerned for you both, as am I.” She paused, and put down the bread, then reached into the seam in her dress for the parchment. “You know, your ma wanted you to dowell in your training as well. When I was cleaning, I found a message written by her for you.” She set the piece of parchment on the table and slid it toward Conner.
Conner peered at it but made no move to take the parchment.
“Do you not want to read it? I am certain it would be nice to have words from your mother, written in her hand.”
“Did ye read it, Milady?”
She nodded.
Conner pushed the parchment back to her. “We know not how to read. Will ye tell us what it says?” He swiped his tunic sleeve over his tear-streaked and sooty face and nudged his brother. “We will listen.”
Eva stared at them, shocked. “You cannot read?”
Both lads shook their heads.
She took a deep breath, assailed by memories. “When I was a young girl, I was forbidden to learn like my brothers. They had several monks and brothers come to teach them all sorts of lessons, from languages to history and mathematics to reading and writing. I was so envious of their learning.”
