CHAPTER 14
Surely Finn was jesting. His family could not truly have such low expectations of him.
“Stop teasing me.” Margaret slapped his hand away again and tucked the loose strands back into her braid as best she could. “You’re making me more nervous about meeting them.”
She wished they had time to settle on the particulars of her story, but it was too late now. The men from the castle were wading out to the boat. All too soon, they had hauled it in, Finn lifted her and Ella down, and they were surrounded by more men who escorted them through the gates and into the castle.
Before she knew it, they stood before the massive wooden doors at the entrance to the castle’s great hall. Margaret held Ella’s hand tightly and reminded herself she must appear to be in awe of the castle. While Dunrobin was a good-sized castle made of a lovely red sandstone, she had lived in far larger ones.
“Let me do the talking and play along,” Finn whispered as the doors swung open.
Margaret intended to enter behind Finn and Alex, as a servant would, but Finn put an arm firmly around her waist and pulled her along. When they came to a halt before the three well-dressed couples waiting for them, Finn had a smile on his face, but his wide stance made it look as if he was going into battle.
She could have guessed which were Alex’s parents even if they had not rushed to greet him. His father, the earl, was a tall, well-built man in his forties who exuded authority, and his mother had Alex’s ginger hair and lively green eyes.
While she waited to be introduced, Margaret turned toward the other couples, and her polite smile froze on her face. Well-bred people were supposed to at least feign graciousness when they greeted guests, but she had never seen a less welcoming foursome in her life.
Finn’s mother, a tall woman with gray-streaked black hair and pursed lips, examined Margaret with penetrating black eyes that made Margaret instinctively hold Ella more tightly. The woman had Finn’s black slash eyebrows, straight nose, and angular jaw. But while Finn’s charm and good nature shone through to make his handsome face even more appealing, his mother’s pinched expression made Margaret think of a beady-eyed crow picking over a carcass.
His father had the blotchy skin and baggy eyes of a drunkard, but at least he did not stare at her with a sour expression as the other three did. The younger man, who must be Finn’s brother, had his mother’s cold black eyes and a sly look about him. The woman on the brother’s arms, a dark-haired beauty with cupid lips and a buxom figure, ran her gaze up and down Margaret as if calculating the worth of a horse.
“Praise God you’re home,” the earl said to Alex as he squeezed his son’s shoulder.
While Alex’s mother embraced him again, the earl spoke quietly to Finn, and Finn handed him a sealed parchment, which the earl tucked inside his tunic.
Margaret’s cheeks hurt from holding her smile by the time Finn finished exchanging formal greetings with his aunt and uncle, as was appropriate to the rank. Finn gave her a reassuring wink, obviously pleased they would not be turned out immediately, and then turned to introduce her to his family.
“Who is this that ye brought uninvited?” Finn’s mother said before he could speak.
“This is Maggie,” Finn said, giving her shoulders a squeeze.“Maggie… Fletcher. And that’s her daughter, Ella, behind her.”
Fletcher? Apparently, she came from a family of arrow makers. She supposed it could be worse.
“Ye should know better than to bring one of your women here,” his mother said through thinned lips.
“Maggie is not like the others.” Finn was smiling, but he had ice in his eyes. “She’s a good woman, and I expect ye to treat her as such.”
“Hmmph!” His mother uttered one of those expressive Highland grunts. “You’d have us believe this one is decent? What would make a respectable lass come away with the likes of you?”
Margaret stifled a gasp—and hoped Finn had come up with a plausible explanation for how she came to be here with him.
“My sweet Maggie was in a bad way when I found her and wee Ella in Edinburgh,” Finn said, shaking his head. “Her husband had died and left her destitute. With no family to turn to, the poor lass was driven to the point of desperation.”
“God’s blood,” his mother hissed, “you’ve brought a whore into your uncle’s home.”
Margaret jabbed Finn hard with her elbow.
“Ach, no, Maggie hadn’t sold herself—yet,” he said. “But she was desperate when I found her on the streets.”
“That’s our Finn, always jesting,” Margaret interjected with a forced smile. “Of course, I was not on the streets but praying in the abbey church when he first saw me.”
“Praying she wouldn’t have to sell herself to feed her young bairn,” Finn said. “I guess ye could say I was the answer to her prayers.”
“I was notthatdesperate,” Margaret said between clenched teeth. She could see Finn was accustomed to using humor to cope with his mother, but she did not appreciate the jest.
“So I took it upon myself to rescue the young widow and her wee bairn.” He put his hand over his heart. “’Twas the only Christian thing to do.”
“You’ve sunk low, even for you,” his mother bit out, “making a desperate mother your whore.”
