Page 75 of Laird of Wrath

She could handle the ache. It wouldn’t be her first time battling with something like this, after all. There had been a similar ache when they had first wedded, which may not have come from love, but it was a kind of disappointment all the same.

She was nothing if not familiar with disappointment.

“Ye look… unwell.”

That had always been Mabel’s way of asking if she was all right without speaking those exact words out loud.

Rhea couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped her, shaking her head as the two of them sat in the busy drawing room, watching the servants rush back and forth to get everything ready for the feast. There was nothing left for her to do. Everything had been arranged, and now all she could do was sit there, stewing in her own disillusionment.

“I’m fine, Mabel,” she assured her sister half-heartedly.

Mabel knew her better than everyone, so there was no point in even trying to hide from her.

“Aye, I’m sure,” she mumbled, clearly not believing her. But Mabel was not the kind of person to push, not even with Rhea. There were other ways she utilized, mainly distraction. After a pause, she asked, “Have ye spoken to Callum yet?”

“Nay,” Rhea answered flatly, not allowing herself to show anything—not sadness, not weakness, nothing that could give her true feelings away.

She didn’t want to worry her sister, nor did she want to talk about any of this. Whatever was happening between her and Callum was too painful, too confusing for her to speak of it clearly, especially when they were surrounded by so many people.

“Och, ye look quite pale, me Lady,” Lara noted as she placed a tray of tea and treats on the small table before them. She lingered by the couch, studying her carefully. “Is it because of the candle?”

“The candle?” Rhea asked with a confused frown.

“Aye, the candle.” Lara nodded. “I saw it in yer room. It extinguished itself, me Lady.”

Mabel rolled her eyes.

Rhea was more than familiar with Lara’s superstitions by then, so the statement didn’t surprise her.

“It’s a very bad omen, me Lady,” Lara added. “There was nay wind, nothin'. I saw it.”

“And what does that mean?” Mabel asked impatiently, as if she was waiting for her to say something that would prove her wrong.

“It means…” Lara’s voice lowered to a whisper, and she leaned in so that the other servants wouldn’t hear her. “It means that someone will die.”

Mabel scoffed before Rhea could utter a single word. “That is ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath.

Rhea sighed and made space for Lara on the couch, beckoning her over. “Come, sit.”

Lara hesitated for a moment before she did as she was told, coming to sit on the couch between Rhea and Mabel.

Mabel, ever patient, took Lara’s hand in her own and squeezed it lightly. It took Rhea a moment to notice the tremor in Lara’s hands. The maid was truly frightened.

“There is nothin' to be afraid of, Lara,” Mabel assured her. She had a way with people. She rarely spoke, especially when she wasn’t familiar with them, but when she did, they listened. “It is only a superstition. Ye shouldnae fash so much over small things.”

“But the candle, Lady Mabel,” Lara said, her breath hitching on the wordcandle. “I saw it with me own eyes, I swear it.”

“I ken ye did,” Mabel soothed. “But candles can extinguish themselves for many reasons. There may have been a breeze that ye didnae notice. The wick may have been… I daenae ken… faulty, perhaps. There are so many reasons why this may have happened.”

Rhea could almost see the cogs in Lara’s mind turning, as if she was truly considering the possibilities—at least possibilities other than supernatural ones—but she seemed hesitant. Rhea didn’t know if anyone could convince her that there were natural causes to all things.

“But—”

“Tell me,” Mabel cut in, “did yer mother teach ye all these things?”

“The superstitions?” Lara asked, sounding eager to speak about it. “Aye, she kent all about such things. She could tell ye a superstition about anythin’! Truly a wealth of knowledge that few people have, and even fewer in our village. Me family has always been the keepers of such knowledge.”

“I see,” Mabel murmured. “Well, perhaps many things have been… exaggerated over the years. Perhaps ye daenae have to fash about everythin’.”