Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,7

know that she could still do many of the things she did before her vision weakened. She was not as useless as her father believed her to be.

She could still sew, though she had to have the fabric and needle very close to her eyes. She could still make and knead bread — though someone would need to put it in the fire and take it out — she could still chop vegetables, and she could very well still be a useful member of the household. But alas, they would not listen. So locked away and mostly forgotten she had been for more than three years.

Three long years of being summarily dismissed, ignored, and put away like worn out furniture or the toys and clothes long outgrown by their owner’s and no longer needed.

What she wanted more than anything this day was to be seen and heard. To feel needed and wanted. To once again become a member of the family who had all but forgotten her.

What she did not know was that below stairs, in the gray-stone castle, utter turmoil was unfolding.

King David the second, was on his way.

“What in the bloody hell is he thinkin’?” Garrin MacRay’s deep voice echoed off the walls. He paced back and forth, angrily. Surrounding him in the gathering room was his weeping wife, Elspeth, and his four sons; Darrin, Lowrens, William, and Tiberius. His sons, good, strong young men who wanted nothing more than their father’s approval, shouted and railed against David. ’Twas their way of showing Garrin that he had their undying support and devotion. Even if they were not quite certain why their father was so bloody furious.

Each of them — handsome, tall and lean lads — were younger versions of Garrin. They possessed the same dark hair and dark eyes as he. And often times, the same sour disposition.

His eldest son, Darrin, a strapping lad of seven and twenty, was pacing in tandem with his father. “Mayhap we should wait and hear from David’s own mouth,” he said. “And not rest our worries on a messenger.”

It seemed to his brothers a most logical suggestion. Until their father began yelling again. “Of course the messenger be right, ye fool!” His face was turning purple with rage. “Why else do ye think David would be on his way here?”

Darrin, duly chastised and fully embarrassed, took a seat next to his brother Lowrens.

Elspeth, who had been quiet up to this point, dabbed at her eyes with a bit of linen, and spoke. “I cannae believe he would do this to our sweet Aeschene.” Her voice, soft as a gentle spring breeze, did nothing to help assuage her husband’s anger. It rarely did.

“’Tis the truth I would be glad to rid myself of her,” Garrin seethed. “But to the MacCullough? Our sworn enemy?”

“She is just a child,” Elspeth whispered, dabbing at her eyes again.

“A child?” Garrin asked with disbelief. “She be twenty-years now, Elspeth. She should have been married off long ago. But none will have her.” Why would they?

Garrin could never understand the love a mother had for a child. And he especially could not understand Elspeth’s love for their only daughter, Aeschene. Their daughter should have been a blessing. Instead, she was flawed. Imperfect. Therefore, unworthy of his time or attention.

“If David believes marryin’ me daughter off to the MacCullough will stop our feudin’, he will be sadly mistaken!” Garrin declared to one and all.

“Aye!” shouted William, his third youngest son. “I would just as soon gut a MacCullough as to look at one.” His declaration fell on deaf ears as his father continued his angry pacing.

“Wait until he gets here,” Garrin fumed. “He will see then, with his own bloody eyes, that Aeschene is useless to anyone, especially as a wife. And the MacCullough will not want her. No one does.”

Tiberius, the youngest of the MacRay’s sons, remained quiet as he watched and listened intently. Out of all the men in the room, Tiberius was the only one who had ever shown Aeschene or Marisse an ounce of respect. But that respect was limited and only shown whenever Garrin and the others weren’t around. He kept his opinions and thoughts to himself as they pertained to his sister.

No one bothered to come to Aeschene’s defense.

Not only had half the keep heard Garrin’s declaration, so had Marisse as she stood hidden in the shadows in the hallway. She thought them all fools. As much as she wanted to burst into the