Page 27 of The Highlander's Chosen Wife
Will he hold to his promise? Or will the darkness in him, the one whispered about in every tavern tale, come to claim me before mornin’?
She sank onto the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The wind howled softly outside the window, rattling the panes, and she drew a deep breath to steady herself.
“God grant me strength,” she whispered under her breath. “I dinnae ken what awaits me, but I’ll face it.”
There came a soft knock at the chamber door, breaking the uneasy silence. Isabelle’s heart leapt into her throat before she steadied her voice.
“Enter,” she called, her tone composed though her pulse was not.
The heavy door creaked open, revealing a young maid clutching a bundle of folded cloth in her arms, with several servants following behind, each carrying one of Isabelle’s trunks.
The girl stepped forward and dropped into a graceful curtsy. “Good evenin’, me Lady . I’m Sarah, yer maid,” she said with a bright, nervous smile. “The Laird sent me to help ye get ready for bed.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet ye, Sarah,” she said warmly, her voice softening. The young maid seemed no older than twenty with a kind face and freckles sprinkled over her nose, her fair hair braided neatly down her back.
Sarah turned toward the men hauling the trunks and gave brisk instructions. “Place them by the wardrobe there,” she said, gesturing toward the far wall. “I’ll see to the unpackin’.”
The servants obeyed immediately, setting down each heavy trunk with a muted thud before bowing to Isabelle.
“Me Lady,” they murmured in unison before retreating quietly, closing the door behind them. The chamber was silent again, save for the soft hiss of the fire.
Sarah set her bundle upon the bed, untying the twine that held it together. “I brought ye a fine nightshift to wear,” she said cheerfully. “So ye dinnae have to unpack now. It’s late enough as it is, and ye’ve had a long journey.”
“That’s very thoughtful of ye, Sarah,” Isabelle replied sincerely, brushing a curl from her face. “Thank ye kindly.”
“It’s nothin’, me Lady ,” Sarah said with a smile. “Now, shall I help get ye out of these travel clothes?”
“Yes,” Isabelle said.
Sarah stepped behind Isabelle and began to untie the long row of laces at the back of her gown, her fingers quick and practiced.
Isabelle exhaled a quiet sigh of relief as the heavy fabric loosened. “I think I’ve nae worn so many layers in a very long time,” she said lightly, trying to mask her unease with humor.
Sarah chuckled softly. “Ye’ll get used to it, me Lady . The Highland winters bite fierce; every layer’s a blessin’.” She helped Isabelle step free of her skirts then pulled the soft linen nightshift over Isabelle's head.
“Here ye are. It should fit ye fine.”
Isabelle slipped into the nightshift, the fabric cool against her skin. “It’s perfect,” she murmured. “Truly, Sarah, ye’re a godsend.”
The maid smiled shyly and moved to the washstand, pouring fresh water into the basin.
“There’s water here for ye,” she said, setting down a small bar of soap beside it. “And these cloths are for dryin’. Ye’ll find more in the chest there, should ye need them.”
“Thank ye,” Isabelle said, moving to the basin. She splashed the water onto her face, letting the coolness soothe her nerves. Her reflection in the mirror above the basin startled her; she looked pale and uncertain, her dark curls tumbling loosely about hershoulders. A married woman now, though she hardly felt like one.
When she turned back, Sarah was tidying the room, folding Isabelle’s discarded garments neatly onto a chair.
“Will that be all for tonight, m e Lady?” the maid asked softly, curtsying again.
“Aye,” Isabelle said, forcing a small smile. “That’ll be all, Sarah. Thank ye again.”
“’Twas me pleasure, m e Lady. Welcome to Castle McCallum. Sleep well,” Sarah said and then curtsied and slipped quietly from the room, closing the door behind her with a gentle click.
The silence that followed was deafening. Isabelle stood there for a moment, staring at the empty space where the maid had been.
Her pulse quickened as her thoughts turned to Declan, her husband, the man whose chambers she now shared.
Would he return tonight? Would he expect her to…?
