She accepted the bag and nodded.
“Good morrow,” Ewan said to those who had gathered. “I’m Ewan Sutherland, Chieftain of the Sutherland clan and yer new chieftain as well. This bonny lass is the granddaughter of the Chieftain of the Ross clan and saw fit to wed a man like me, thanks be to God.”
Several people chuckled.
“And though I dinna deserve her or any of ye, I promise to care for ye to the best of my ability.” He looked about at the upturned faces as he spoke, conveying the earnestness of his words. “I’ll see to coordinating the repair of yer homes upon my return to Dunrobin Castle. Until then, my bonny wife has offered to share part of her dowry with all of ye to welcome ye to the Sutherland clan.”
Faye opened the purse and took out a coin. The villagers stepped forward but held a respectful distance. First, she approached a little boy whose grubby hand was extended with anticipation. Her hand trembled slightly as she settled the bit of metal into the boy’s palm. The coin disappeared in his fist, and he ran off as she approached the second villager.
On and on she went through the people of the village, smiling shyly at their gratitude, stopping only when the bag was empty.
She handed the empty purse to Ewan and accepted his proffered arm. She remained quiet as he led her back to their horses, and they left the village of Torish behind them.
“I hope ye are no’ displeased with me,” he said. “Mayhap, I ought to have told ye my intentions for Torish.”
“’Tis fine,” she replied.
A catch to her voice pulled his attention back to her, where he found her eyes swimming with tears. She looked away, but not swiftly enough to hide the fact that she was crying.
9
Faye tried to restrain her tears. Even now, she swallowed hard at the ache in her throat, but still, the knot did not abate.
Never in her life had she seen as much coin as was nestled inside the fine leather purse. To think that all this time, all these years, she had wealth at her fingertips. Land!
So many times, she’d flirted to get an extra bit of grain for her family, or a lower price on meat. Or how they’d worn clothes that pinched at their elbows and squeezed at their waists when there’d been no money for new clothes. Or how Drake had to sacrifice his attempts to become a knight in order to help them survive.
Never had she dreamed there had been any other way. Never had she suspected that in the Highlands of Scotland, they could be wealthy, that there was a life available to them where every day was not a struggle.
Why had her mother not told them? How had she let them all suffer when they could have lived in comfort?
A sob choked from Faye’s throat.
“Faye.” Ewan drew his horse to a stop. “What is it? Are ye hurt?”
She shook her head again, not even certain where to start. “I had no idea…” Her voice trembled, but she cleared her throat and tried again. “I had no idea we had such wealth. And I’ve never seen a lord give his tenants coin.”
She remembered meeting the lord of the village once when they lived in England, back when her da had still been alive. Lord and Lady Astair. They’d come to the village in matching yellow silk so fine that it reflected the sun like gilt. Or at least, what Faye assumed gilt looked like.
She’d looked up to them as if they were gods emerged from the heavens above. Indeed, they might as well have been, with their fine clothes and clean, friendly faces. She’d been awed into silence by them. As some had been with her in the village of Torish.
But though the experience had been memorable enough to settle into Faye’s memory, Lord and Lady Astair never gave out coin, with the exception of the final pay they offered when Da died. But nothing after that small stipend, when they were in such sore need, when everyone else had turned cold with hate.
Ewan watched her with a sympathetic gaze. She didn’t want his sympathy or his kindness. She didn’t want to see how easily and confidently he spoke to his people or how affectionately they responded to him.
Oh, how she longed to be back in Castleton with people she knew she could trust, where she didn’t have to be so guarded.
“Faye,” Ewan said in a gentle voice. “Ye can tell me.”
She looked away, ashamed of her outburst. If they were at Dunrobin Castle, she might have given him a coy look, or suggestively trailed her fingers over the neckline of her kirtle. But they were on horseback in the middle of a land she didn’t know. She couldn’t spare herself by turning her emotions to passion or swaying the conversation toward sexual teasing.
And yet, part of her felt ridiculous for staying so quiet when he was so willing to listen. He had vowed to protect her.
Tell him.
She rubbed the thick leather rein between her thumb and forefinger, giving it her focus as she spoke. “We grew up with very little. There were so many times we went to bed with our stomachs so empty that our navels felt as though they were grinding against our spines. There was never enough. Not food or wood to burn or cloth for kirtles.”
Tears clogged her throat, and she stopped her horse, unable to focus. “When I think of what we’ve had to do to survive…and when all this time, we had wealth. I had this dowry…” She covered her face with her palms to keep him from seeing her cry. “We never had a lord give us coin in celebration as ye just gave those people.”
“I wish I’d known,” he said in a gruff voice. She uncovered her face to
