Though she supposed Alex intended it as an honor, she didn’t want the others to look upon her early efforts in glass making. They weren’t good. The colors weren’t right and the panes could shatter with the slightest scratch.
Alex revealed the colored glass and she saw the image of the Madonna and Child that she’d created a year ago. The faceless Virgin was nothing more than a hooded woman, her arms cradling a precious bundle.
“This was made by Laren,” Alex explained. “She sold her glass and brought the silver to us.”
It took only seconds for every face to turn and look at her. And when she saw her husband’s eyes, her own filled with tears. She didn’t hear the words spoken by her clansmen. She fled outside the keep, needing to get out. For her husband to bare her soul in front of everyone felt like a betrayal. Why had he done this? He knew how much she hated being the center of attention. Nothing hurt her more than to be stared at by others. She couldn’t bear it.
Outside, the snow mingled with rain, but she felt none of the cold. All of it was clustered inside her heart, for she’d never wanted to reveal herself in this way.
“Laren.” She heard Alex’s voice behind her. “Come back inside. They need to know the truth about why you’re gone so many hours. And you need more people to help you.” He tried to bring his arm around her waist, but she pushed him back.
Behind him, she saw curious faces and heard their whispering. Whether it was good or bad, she didn’t want to know. And when he tried to prompt her again, she turned and ran, unable to face them.
Alexwaitedforanotherhour before going after Laren. He wanted to give her time to calm down, to accept what he’d done. He’d never understood her secrecy. There was no reason not to tell the others about her glass.
After he’d shown them her work, the people had been fascinated, offering compliments Laren wasn’t there to hear. Each one of them had come forward to touch it. They asked questions he couldn’t answer, and he suspected many would want to watch her work.
Others didn’t believe him. They refused to acknowledge her skill until they saw it with their own eyes. The realization made him wonder if, perhaps, he’d acted in haste.
But he’d wanted to get help for her. She couldn’t complete the task alone, regardless of what she believed.
“Glass or no glass, she’s not been much of a wife to you.” Grizel came forwards and Alex saw his girls walking beside his mother.
He sent her a sharp warning look. “You’ve no right to speak of her in that way. Especially around them.”
“Why not? They know their mother is never there.”
He didn’t miss the way Mairin’s eyes filled with tears. She wrenched her hand away from Grizel and glared at her grandmother. “My mother’s glass is wonderful. You’re just jealous because you can’t make anything!”
His daughter went running toward the loch shores, around the outer edge towards the cavern. At the loss of her sister, Adaira began bawling.
“Leave us, Grizel,” Alex warned. “You’ve done enough.” He comforted Adaira, lifting her into his arms and rubbing her shoulders.
“Well. I’ve a right to express my opinion, don’t I?”
“You’ve no right at all to say anything against my wife. And if you want a place to live among us, you’ll find a way to make it up to Laren.” He strode away, not bothering to say another word. Her sharp tongue would only earn her the brunt of his temper if he was foolish enough to remain near her.
With long strides, he caught up to Mairin. The young girl was smashing stones into the water, tears staining her cheeks. “I hate ourseanmhair,“ she wept.
“Grizel is sorry for what she said.” The lie slipped from his mouth, even though he doubted she was sorry at all. His mother’s bitterness poisoned the atmosphere around her, until it was impossible to live anywhere near her.
“She told me this morn that I’m going to be sent away.” Mairin looked up at him, her eyes worried.
He came closer to her and rested his hand upon her shoulder. His daughter was taller than his waist and it seemed strange, suddenly, that she’d grown so quickly. Her reddish hair was losing its baby golden tone and was growing darker.
“It’s only for fostering, Mairin. You’ll go north, to the Orkney Islands. My cousin has agreed to it.” When more tears streamed down her face, he hugged her tightly. “It will be safer there, you’ll see.”
“I don’t want to go,” Mairin insisted.
He dropped a kiss upon her tousled hair. “You’ll meet new girls and boys to play with. Perhaps a future husband.”
Her face wrinkled in horror at the thought of a boy and he suppressed a laugh. “Come and let’s find your mother,” Alex said.
He hoped that, by now, Laren would be more amenable to the idea of having additional apprentices. At first, he’d thought Dougal would be the best choice, but it was Monroe, one of the younger boys, whose eyes had lit up at the prospect. Even when the others had finished looking at the glass, he’d continued to study it, touching the surface as if he couldn’t quite believe it was real. The only question was whether Laren would allow the boy to join as another apprentice.
Before they reached the cavern, he saw her returning from the far side of the loch. Mairin raced into her arms, and Laren lifted her daughter on to her hip, speaking softly to her. When she reached Alex’s side, she took Adaira from him and cuddled the baby girl in her arms.
To him, she uttered not a word. He could almost feel the air of invisible frost around her though she would say nothing in front of the girls. He couldn’t read her face or discern her thoughts.
