“Begging your pardon, my lady, but why on earth would you ask such a thing?”
Isla did her best to sound convincing: “At MacDonell Manor, we once had a servant lass who had given herself to a man before marriage. I was quite young at the time and didnae ken all the details as an adult might, but I seem to recall it being something of a scandal. I suppose I’ve often wondered whether such a reaction to these things is common, or if my household was simply less tolerant than most.”
Between Alex and now Moira, Isla was becoming disenchanted with herself at how good she was at spinning falsehoods.
Still, she had to. The stakes were simply too high.
Moira seemed convinced by this explanation, though her cheeks remained a fierce shade of crimson. She opened and closed her mouth a few times over without speaking, like a fish that had been dragged up onto dry land.
Finally, she managed to squeak her words out: “Aye, my lady, ‘tis deeply frowned upon here as well… though of course, there are those who… I mean to say, certain folk show a bit less, er… restraint…”
“So it does happen, then, from time tae time?” Isla prompted.
Moira nodded.
“And… the servants, when they talk about it among themselves… is there anything they tend tae try to, er, cover upwhat they’ve done? For their wedding nights, so their husbands won’t…?”
The servant girl’s eyebrows nearly leaped off her head. “Well…” she began uncertainly, “there are those who say that… when a man and a woman give themselves to each other for the first time, and for her itisthe ‘first time,’ then there’s meant to be a bit of blood on the sheets. From the breaking of her, uh… ‘barrier,’ my lady, if you see what I mean.”
“I believe I do, aye,” Isla replied. “Does it work?”
Moira hesitated. “It’s said that, if the fellow has had a considerable amount of wine that night and sees a few spots of blood tossed surreptitiously between the sheets, he might fall for such a deception. But again, my lady, I’m afraid I must ask… why are you so interested in discussing these things?”
Again, Isla knew she had to navigate her response as cautiously as possible. She tried to laugh it off. “In truth, Moira? Where I come from, I had no one I could trust tae talk about such amusing topics! Our servants would surely have been scandalized, and would likely have told my parents, which would have gotten me into serious trouble. I rather like being able to speak more freely here, with you.”
Moira appeared to be pleased by the response, and nodded. “Then I am ever at your service, Lady Isla!”
Privately, though—after she and Moira had chatted a while longer, and the servant girl left—Isla considered what she’d been told. If she had to engage in such an elaborate deception with the person she was to marry, might that not be a sign that the nuptials were simply not meant to be? After all, the wedding night was meant to set the tone for the rest of the marriage, was it not?
What would it say about their prospects, then, if their relationship was based entirely around a falsehood?
She sighed heavily, sitting down hard on the edge of the bed. She felt as though she’d effectively run around in a circle at top speed, only to find herself breathless and right where she’d started.
She remained that way for some time, until there was another knock at her door. She thought it might be Lily, or Moira once more, and wanted to call out for them to leave her be.
But she had no desire to seem rude, so instead, she said, “Come in.”
The door creaked open and Lorna stepped in, peering around mildly. “Settling in, are you, then?”
Isla was on her feet immediately, straightening the front of her dress to make herself more presentable. “I am, Lady Lorna, aye. Thank you for looking in on me.”
“I had hoped tae determine whether you and Alex are getting on better than you had been,” she remarked wryly. “What with the future of the bloody clan depending on it and all.”
“I do believe we are,” Isla told her. “Or perhaps that’s merely hope on my part.”
“Hope is good!” Lorna replied briskly. “Hope means you’re giving it your best effort, which is all anyone could ask of you… particularly where a hard-headed fellow like my brother is concerned.”
“‘Twas your perspective that helped me in that regard,” Isla observed gratefully. “Without it, I might have despaired quite some time ago.”
“Well, we can hardly afford that, now can we?” As she spoke, Lorna slowly paced around the perimeter of the room, examining every inch of it carefully as though inspecting the accommodations to ensure they were adequate for a guest of Isla’s stature.
“I… had hoped that you might grace me with a bit of further insight as well, if it’s not too much trouble?” Isla ventured timidly.
“Certainly, my dear,” Lorna assured her. “That’s why I chose tae look in on you today, in case you might have any more queries for me. Iamhere tae help, you know, as I said before.”
Isla gathered all of her courage, trying to find the most delicate—and least self-incriminating—way to phrase her question. “If one were tae displease Laird Alex grievously… that is, if one were tae conceal some important truth from him, only tae have him find out later… how incensed might he become as a result? Enough tae be… dangerous?”
Lorna looked deeply crestfallen by the inquiry. Nonetheless, she held her posture firmly, and looked directly into Isla’s eyes. “If you mean tae ask whether he would become violent, the answer is no. He would never exert himself physically over one who is defenseless, or weaker than he. Certainly not a woman, that’s certain. Short of that, however, whatever the limits of your imagination are with regard tae a man’s possession of an irritable temper, you may be assured he will reach them. You have seen that he is not a man who suffers offenses or transgressions lightly.”
