Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,94

while she told her the truth about the contents of the wagon. All the while her heart cracked a little bit more.

She knew she shouldn’t have been so surprised. Why would I put aside anything for a dowry for a blind woman? Her father had railed about that more than two years ago when her mother had made the mistake of asking about Aeschene’s dowry. That mistake had cost her mother more than a few slaps to her pretty face.

Aeschene felt her stomach tighten at the memory of that cold winter’s day. It tightened significantly more when she thought about the dowry he had sent.

“I be so sorry for lyin’ to ye,” Marisse said as she swiped a tear away. “But Richard, I think he did not want to see yer feelin’s hurt.”

“Oh, lord!” Aeschene exclaimed as she wept. “Richard must think me even more unworthy now!”

“Unworthy?” Marisse asked. “Richard does not think ye unworthy. I think he is quite fond of ye.”

She wasn’t going to believe it, not for a moment. “Nay, ye are wrong. Why would he hold me in any higher esteem after what da did?”

“What are ye goin’ on about?” Marisse asked as she handed her friend a linen square to wipe her eyes.

“The dowry should equal the value a father has for his daughter, do ye nae see that?”

Marisse sighed pitifully. “Aye, I see what ye mean. But Aeschene, yer da, he be a cruel man. Yer husband is not anything like yer da. Do ye nae see? Richard lied, made us all lie to protect yer feelins. If he were anythin’ at all like yer da, he would not have been carin’ about protectin’ yer heart.”

Aeschene thought on that for a long moment. Mayhap Marisse was right. The humiliation she felt, however, was only intensifying. “But when word spreads to the rest of the clan, think ye they will be so kind?”

Marisse knew there were still people who didn’t care for either one of them, simply because they were MacRays.

“I cannae bear the thought of how they will look upon me. ’Tis too humiliatin’ too bear,” Aeschene wept into her hands. “Why does he hate me so?”

That was a question Marisse had no good answer for. ’Twas a question she had been asking herself for the past two years.

Aeschene cried for a little while longer, her mind racing hither and yon, her worry intensifying. The clan will never hold me in high esteem, not after this.

“I will never be able to show my face again,” Aeschene said.

“Like hell!” Marisse bit out. “Ye will not hide in shame. Yer father did this, nae ye. Ye are goin’ to march right down those stairs and show yer husband and family and the rest of the clan that ye are much stronger and better than yer da gives ye credit for.”

Her words were firm and unyielding, and just what Aeschene needed to hear to bring her out of her current state of distress.

“If ye hide yer head in shame, what does that tell everyone?” Marisse asked.

Aeschene knew the answer. “That I be a coward.”

“Aye, and what is the one thing ye are nae?”

“I am not a coward.”

Admittedly, Aeschene began to feel better, although she doubted she would ever be able to entirely let go of her humiliation.

She washed and dried her face, changed into her pretty green wool gown, and even allowed Marisse to style her hair. All the while Marisse tried building up her confidence, reminding her repeatedly that she was not a coward, not by half, Aeschene was trying to come up with a plan to make up for the pitiful dowry her father had sent.

“We will make them all see ye are a fine woman,” Marisse said as she draped a silver belt around Aeschene’s waist. “Ye are going to prove to them ye are not a coward. Ye are going to prove to them ye are nothin’ at all like yer da.”

Aeschene listened while Marisse riffled through the trunk that held all of Aeschene’s worldly possessions. “Here it be,” she exclaimed happily.

Moments later, she was draping the pretty silver necklace around Aeschene’s neck.

“There,” Marisse said confidently. “Ye be as pretty as a princess.”

Aeschene caressed the silver necklace and an idea began to form. One she hoped would truly make up for the events of the afternoon. “Marisse, I need ye to find Lachlan and Rory for me.”

“Why?” Marisse asked, curious with her friend’s request.

Aeschene carefully undid the clasp and held the necklace in

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