Mary grinned. “If ye must, ye must. Now, let’s have a little pluck of those harp strings to cheer us both up, eh?”
Saoirse let Mary usher her out into the hallway, where they began their journey to the music room.
“Dae ye ken why he doesnae allow anyone in his chamber?” Saoirse asked as they walked.
Mary tilted her head from side to side. “One can never ken what a man truly thinks about anythin’,” she answered. “My guess is that it has somethin’ to dae wit’ pride and his need for solitude, but I cannae be certain. He’s a… private man, at times. But enough of that dreary matter. ‘Tis goin’ to be a beautiful day and I’m of the thought that me duties can wait a while. Liftin’ the spirits of M’Lady is far more important.”
Saoirse cracked a smile as Mary dragged her through hallway after hallway, pointing out particular tapestries and paintings and decorations that would help to guide Saoirse in the future. “The stags are always left turns, and the does are right turns. Same wit’ boars and flowers—boars are left, flowers are right. That’s how I remember it, and I’ve only gone wrong a thousand times.”
In her periphery, Saoirse could have sworn that some of the servants were casting her curious, sideways glances. She wasn’t entirely sure if they were looking at her due to the way that Mary was hauling her along, or if it was because they could tell she’d been crying.
“Pay nay mind to those dimwitted fools,” Mary whispered, nodding her head to the other servants. “They’re just curious about their new Lady, and how the marriage is farin’.”
“What dae ye mean?” Saoirse asked.
“I’ll be honest with ye, nay one ever expected M’Laird to marry.” Mary lowered her voice. “And ye may nae like to hear this, but ye deserve to ken—he loved a lass before.Yearsago, ye must understand. That stupid, youthful sort of love that has nay choice but to snuff itself out, else it’ll destroy everythin’ in its sight. Anyway, I watched that harpy break his heart so badly that he refused any and all suggestion of marriage since. Until ye.”
Saoirse would’ve skidded to a halt if Mary hadn’t continued to pull her along. Noah had loved someone before? Noah’s heart had been broken? Having only dreamed of love, Saoirse couldn’t even imagine what that might feel like—to have it and then to lose it, in the most painful of ways. Noah’s rejection of her was likely only a sting in comparison.
“Is that, perhaps, why he prefers to sleep alone?” Saoirse swallowed thickly, trying not to think too hard about the girl before. Had that woman been allowed to share his bed? Had he lain with her in the way he refused to do with Saoirse?
Mary shrugged. “I wouldnae think so. The lass wasnae from the Castle, and I would’ve kenned if she’d crept in, in secret. If ye’re worried about there bein’ memories of her, ye shouldnae be. I never liked her, so I never allowed her in.” She smiled proudly. “But, like I said, there’s nay tellin’ what a man thinks about anythin’ or why they do the strange things that they do.”
But Saoirsewasworried. Very worried about the memory of a past love that might still haunt her husband. If his heart had been so badly broken, maybe he was afraid of putting it back together again. Maybe, that was why he kept pushing Saoirse away, but there was nothing he could do to stop his mind from dreaming about her.
Is there a chance then that I can become a… healer of the heart?She held tight to the notion, though her own heart would also need a salve after Noah’s awful behavior that morning.
“Now, here we are.” Mary stopped sharply and drummed her fingertips excitedly on a set of double doors, carved with various instruments. With a grin, she pushed the doors open. "Feast yer eyes on this, M’Lady!”
Saoirse’s mouth dropped as the music room revealed itself. An ornate, gilded harp stood in the very center, catching a shard of sunlight that made it glow. Each delicate string looked like spider’s silk, too fragile to be touched. There was also a large harpsichord in the corner of the room, but it was the fiddles that lined the walls in various hues of varnished wood, that lured her further into the room. She just wished she had the talent to play one. Anything, in fact.
“Pick one,” Mary insisted.
“The only thing I ken how to play is the harpsichord, and badly at that,” Saoirse replied. “Everythin’ else would be foreign in my hands.”
Mary chuckled. “Nay matter, I’ll do the playin’ for the both of us.” She wandered to the fiddles and took one down, striking the strings to see if it was tuned. “When I was younger, me faither would tune these and teach me in secret. He was a gifted musician, God rest his soul.”
“Ye can play the fiddle?” Saoirse followed Mary to the instruments on the wall and ran her fingertips over the strings. The faint note sounded awful. Indeed, Saoirse had always wondered how anyone could play something without instructions on where to place one’s fingers.
“Aye, I can. Would ye like me to play somethin’ for ye?” Mary rested the instrument under her chin and took a bow down, poising it just above the strings.
Saoirse nodded. “I havenae a song in mind, so play whatever ye desire.”
She moved to one of the plush chairs on the edge of the room. Sitting, she rolled her shoulders back and crossed her ankles. Giving Mary a quick nod, she waited for the old woman to begin. The room filled with the harmonic, lively sounds of the fiddle, which seemed to vibrate into the depths of Saoirse’s being and pull her from the mire of her thoughts. A smile lingered on her lips as Mary changed the pace for something even cheerier.
“I’m nae used to such an audience. Ye’re good for me reputation, it seems,” Mary said, tipping her head toward the entrance.
Saoirse turned to find several servants, both male and female, standing in the doorway listening to Mary play. The moment the servants spied Saoirse observing them, they stood straighter, the light smiles on their lips fading.
“Please,” Saoirse rose to her feet, “come in and listen. Music should be enjoyed by everyone. Especially when one plays as well as Mary here.”
Mary chuckled. “Ye mustnae flatter me, or I’ll get notions above me station.”
The servants mumbled for a moment before inching into the room. Saoirse guided them to the chairs and stood in the back, giving the servants the best seats to watch. She nodded to Mary, both women smiling. Instantly, a new song filled the music room. The tune was a bonny one, causing the servants to jump to their feet and start dancing. Saoirse couldn’t help but clap her hands to the rhythm and feel her cheeks ache from grinning as everyone in the room giggled and laughed. All the while, Mary played on with ferocious glee.
Would it be unseemly if I joined in?She decided she didn’t care and threw herself into the dancing. The servants were stunned for a second or two, before they welcomed her into the dance, until they were all breathless and beaming from ear to ear.
When the song finally stopped, Saoirse stooped to catch her breath. It was as if all her worries were gone, taken away by the music. Noah was the furthest thing from her mind. Even her heart felt lighter.