The Damaged Bride

Chapter 19

Returning to the lodge, Marcus wondered what else Bridgett had been up to while he was busy. He found her sitting under a tree in the kitchen garden wrapped in a thick shawl, her knees drawn up under her. She was focused very intently on the book she was reading, a book he recognized. It was his own bible.

As he watched, she slowly mouthed the words to herself, pausing every so often to properly pronounce them to herself.

He stood in the shadows for some time watching her, seeing the determination on her face. He couldn’t help but smile when her face lit up with such a brilliant light of understanding, he was so moved by her childish joy.

“I visited Rhona this morning,” he said aloud walking towards her. “It seems you have been visiting my tenants without my knowledge or permission.”

The joy Bridgette had been feeling at figuring out a difficult word vanished, to be replaced by dread. She had not thought to speak to Marcus about her visiting the farms. In their few conversations he had made it clear that as long as she stayed out of his way, he didn’t care what she did with her time. Had she been wrong?

Closing the bible and attempting to hide it the folds of her shawl, Bridgett stood looking down at the ground.

“Yes my lord,” she replied softly, praying he wasn’t about to beat her.

“And you have been taking food to them from the kitchen as well?” he asked, crossing his arms, studying her reaction to his inquiry.

“Yes my lord,” she replied softly, shrinking further into herself as she saw his arms moving in her peripheral vision.

“And I see you have liberated a book from my study,” Marcus asked, pointing to the object poorly hidden in the folds of wool.

Trembling, Bridgett brought the tome forward and offered it to him.

“Moira said you wouldn’t mind,” Bridgette replied, keeping her eyes on the ground.

As he took it from her, he could feel the trembling in her hands. Was she still afraid of him? They hadn’t had much contact since Douglass’ last appearance, and when they were together he was always careful to be kind.

“The Bible?” he asked. “Why this? ”

“Moira is teaching me to read,” she explained, cautiously sneaking a glance at him. “I know most of the passages by heart. It helps me to learn my letters.”

“Are you doing well?” he asked looking up at her.

“Yes, my lord,” she said, looking up at his ruggedly beautiful face.

Looking down, he could see the dread that she was feeling. Did she really think he was going to punish her for reading a book?

“If you wish to read my books, please just ask,” he said, handing the book back to her. “There are some that are very old and valuable. I would hate for you to ruin them.”

“Thank you my lord,” she replied, dipping into a low curtsy as she accepted the book.

“Now,” Marcus said, “back to you visiting my tenants. I appreciate you taking an interest in their wellbeing, and providing medicine and food. Is there anything you need to aid you in your endeavours?”

“No my lord,” she said, hugging the precious tome to her breast. “The allowance you provide is enough for me to care for them.”

“That money is for you,” Marcus said, gently touching her cheek, causing her to flinch. “For your comfort.”

“My needs are few,” she said innocently, looking into his face with childish yearning.

“I would still prefer you keep your coins in your purse and provide Moira with a list of things you might need,” he replied, dropping his hand from cheek.

“My lord,” Bridgette said, summoning all of her courage. “If you can spare just a moment, I have something I would like to give you.”

“More jewels pilfered from your grandfather?” Marcus asked with a grin.

“No, sir, nothing like that,” she smiled back. “I made something for you.”

“I have a little time,” he said looking towards the sun.

“I will get it for you,” she said excitedly, and with another quick curtsy, Bridgette disappeared into the house. She returned shortly with a bundle of cloth cradled in her small arms.