“I suspect he’s preferrin’ to believe he’s not trickin’ her but hoping that she’ll one day grow to care for him. Or mayhap he thinks he can hide forever.”
Gwen poked at the dough for a time. “How long has he known her?” she finally asked. Does he love her very much? was the question coiled on the tip of her tongue.
“He’s ne’er met the lass,” Nell said flatly. “The marriage was arranged between Drustan and the Elliott through messengers bearing the bride offer.”
“He’s never met her?” Gwen shouted. Her heart took wing; feelings of guilt about trying to break up the betrothal went up in a puff of smoke. He hadn’t neglected to mention Anya because he loved Anya; he’d not mentioned her because he’d not even met her! It wasn’t as if she was trying to break up a real relationship!
Nell smiled faintly. “Och, ye’ve much feelin’ for him. ’Tis plain to see.”
Feeling suddenly euphoric, Gwen said pertly, “Speaking of feeling that’s plain to see, what about you and Silvan?”
Nell’s smile faded instantly and her expression grew shuttered. “There is naught betwixt me and that canny old badger.”
“Well, there may not be on your end, but there certainly is on his.”
“Where do ye get yer daft ideas?” Nell snapped, leaping into a flurry of activity, banging pots and moving dishes. “Let me finish that bread, for ’tis plain that it’ll be the morrow before ye’ve got it properly kneaded.”
Gwen was unfazed. Nell’s reaction told her everything. “He peeked down your bodice when you took his mug.”
“He did no such thing!”
“He did. And trust me, he didn’t like mine a tenth as much. Nell, Silvan has deep feelings for you.”
Nell paused in her frantic kneading and bit her lip. When she looked at Gwen, her eyes were pained. “Dinna be sayin’ such things,” she said quietly.
“In twelve years haven’t you and Silvan ever—”
“Nay.”
“But you care for him, don’t you?”
Nell blew out a slow breath. “I loved a laird once. It cost me my babes and nearly my life.”
“What happened? I don’t mean to pry…” Gwen trailed off uncertainly.
“What happened? Ye truly wish to know what happened?” Nell’s voice rose. She punched the mound of dough several times before kneading furiously.
“Er…yes,” Gwen said warily.
“I was a fool, ’tis what happened. I loved a laird who had a wife of his own, though there was no love betwixt them. An arranged match, it was, made on land and alliances. I resisted him for years, but the day my mam died, thick in grievin’, I weakened. ’Twas not what I believed proper, but och, how I loved that man.” She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I suspect my mother dyin’ made me realize we dinna have forever.”
How true, Gwen thought. She certainly hadn’t had forever. She’d always thought she and her parents would mend fences; she’d never dreamed they wouldn’t live another twenty, thirty, even forty more years.
“We were discreet; still, his lady learned of our involvement. She shrieked and raged, but she’d given him no heirs, and by then I’d given him two sons.” A shadow crossed her features. “Then one afternoon he was killed while hunting. That very eve, she took my children and set her kin upon me. They left me for dead near Balanoch.”
“Oh, Nell,” Gwen breathed, her eyes misting.
“I lost what would have been our third child in the dust. ’Twas Silvan who found me. Ne’er will I forget starin’ up at the sun, waitin’ to die, wishin’ to die, only to see him”—a bittersweet smile curved her lip—“like a fierce angel, standin’ o’er me. He took me in and stood by my bed and demanded that I live, in such a voice that I feared to die and defy him.” Her smile deepened. “He tended me himself, for weeks….”
“What about your children?” Gwen asked hesitantly.
Nell shook her head. “As she’d had none, she claimed them as her own. ’Tis said she’s barren, and my son will one day be laird, as his only heir.”
“You’ve never seen them again?”
“Nay, but occasionally I hear bits of gossip. My Jamie is fostered outside of Edinburgh. Mayhap when she’s no longer alive I’ll see them again, but they willna know me. They were but one and two when I was driven out. They believe she’s their true mam.”