Forgiving Hearts: Duncurra 1-3 (30 page)

Mairead walked to the south tower with her head up and her back straight. When she reached her solar, she still seethed with anger at Oren. She decided to do some needlework, but was too frustrated to focus on it. After picking out the third mistake, she put it away. Irritated, she paced, trying to figure out what her mother would do. In fact, she didn’t know what her mother would do because no servant at Carraigile would have behaved as some at Cnocreidh had today.

Her eyes roamed to the parchment on the desk, and she badly wanted to write her mother a letter.
And say what? Will I run tattling after my mama who has only just left and tell her my new clan isn’t being nice to me? But how dare the steward ignore me?
Suddenly she found the irony of the situation extremely amusing. She had spent most of her life choosing to be in the background, hoping to be ignored, and now she was getting her wish.

Maybe she was being too hard on them. There had not been a “Lady Matheson” in residence for over ten years. Perhaps everyone just needed some time to adjust. She sighed loudly, her anger finally dissipating, and she resolved to try again tomorrow. She picked up her needlework again, finally able to focus on it.

As evening fell and her solar grew cold, her irritation returned. Apparently, whomever Elspet asked to tend the hearth had either misunderstood or ignored the request. She put her needlework away and descended to the great hall. She intended to ask again for someone to tend her hearth. However, Tadhg and his men had just returned from training, and the servants were busy preparing for the evening meal, so she did not interrupt.

Chapter 8

 

Things did not improve. Oren did not come to the keep the next day. He sent his wife to Elspet with a message saying he was still ill. He also sent instructions directing Elspet and Ide in their work for the day. Mairead was angry and frustrated by this. Still, she did not want to create unnecessary strife by interfering with the running of Cnocreidh until she had at least spoken with the steward. She remained silent and let his orders stand for the day. There had been so many visitors for the wedding, the staff was still cleaning and putting the keep to rights. In fairness, those would have been Mairead’s orders anyway. She tried to help throughout the morning, but once again was ignored or blatantly pushed aside. She wanted to review the account books and check inventories, but believed it would be presumptuous to simply take the books without first speaking with Oren. With nothing else to do, feeling at a loss and in the way, she retreated once more to her solar. Before leaving the great hall, she again asked Elspet to have someone tend the hearth for her.

Mairead spent most of the day alone, working on a tapestry again. She thought through all of the events of the last couple of days, trying to figure out what she had done wrong. She had tried to be polite and friendly, adopting the manner she used with the staff at Carraigile but the staff here rebuffed her at every turn. Perhaps she had misunderstood Tadhg. Maybe he did not want her to run his household, although she found this hard to believe. Still, it might be a good idea to make certain.

As the afternoon light faded, she began to squint at her needlework. Her solar grew dark and cold. She sighed in frustration. Her request for someone to tend to her hearth was being ignored yet again. She lit candles but rather than continuing to work on her tapestry, she went to the cabinet and removed her recorder. This was the first instrument she had learned to play as a child. Although the harp was a much more difficult instrument to master and therefore more impressive to most people, this recorder was her favorite because her grandfather had made it for her. She put it to her lips and began to play, losing herself in the music. She had only been playing for a few minutes when the door to the solar opened and she looked up to see Tadhg. “I’d say don’t stop, but it’s freezing in here. Ye should have asked for someone to lay the fire for ye.” He walked across the room to give her a kiss.

“I did, actually.”

He frowned. “And it wasn’t done? They should have at least done so when they stoked the fire in our bedchamber.”

“That was probably it. Perhaps they misunderstood me and tended the other hearth instead. I will sort it out,” she said casually. As difficult as this day had been and as easy as it would be to complain to him about it, she didn’t. Without a doubt, he would have fixed everything, but she needed to handle it or risk never gaining the staff’s respect.

“Our room is toasty warm. Let’s go in there, but bring the instrument. I want to hear ye play some more.”

She gave him a saucy grin. “Ye are asking me to join ye in our toasty warm bedchamber and ye want me to play my recorder?”

“Well, now that ye mention it, maybe there is something else we can play as well.” He scooped her into his arms, carrying her giggling out of the solar to their bedchamber.

“My precious lass, ye are perfect, more delightful than any man could dare to hope for.”

~ * ~

They still laid together after their intimate interlude when the door to the room swung open and the chambermaid, Meriel, strode in with a stack of linen towels, followed by a manservant carrying a tub.

Tadhg flew off the bed and roared,
“Get out! How dare ye enter unbidden?”

Mairead grabbed at the plaid, which lay under them, scrambling unsuccessfully to cover herself.

The stunned manservant stared at them momentarily before rushing out of the room.

Meriel didn’t appear to be as shocked. “Laird, I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t know ye were in here. I was told that ye wanted to have a bath after—”

“There is no excuse. Ye would have known if ye had but knocked.
Remove yerself now!
” he roared again.

“Aye, Laird.” She calmly placed the towels on the table before leaving.

Tadhg turned to Mairead, expecting to see her embarrassed, blushing. However, she was not blushing. She was ashen. Her knees were drawn to her chest, and she clutched the edge of her plaid in front of her.

“Mairead, I am sorry. I asked for a bath to be prepared for after supper. They never should have entered unannounced, whether they thought the room was empty or not.” He tried to comfort her, putting his arms around her. She leaned her forehead against him, but didn’t return his embrace, continuing to clutch her plaid.
God’s teeth, could anything worse have happened?

Mairead said nothing. She simply sat within his arms, looking horror-struck.

“Are ye all right, little one?” Tadhg asked gently.

“Aye,” said Mairead weakly. She pulled away from him and climbed off the bed. “The evening meal will be served soon. We should get dressed.” Looking at the clothing strewn around the room, she blushed and muttered, “this must have been a pretty picture.” Frowning, she gathered up her garments and dressed.

It was painful to see her so distressed. Tadhg was furious. Growling, he pulled on his own clothes. “If ye are sure ye’ll be fine, I need to go downstairs and mete out some justice.”

Mairead became very still. “What will ye do?”

“I have never used a whip as punishment for anyone, but tonight I would like to thrash both of them.” At the look of dismay on Mairead’s face, he said more gently, “don’t worry, little one, I wouldn’t beat them. However, after I give them a lesson in courtesy, I will dismiss them both.”

“Tadhg, perhaps they truly misunderstood?”

“That doesn’t excuse their failure to knock.”

“Nay, it doesn’t, but I suspect it was just an error in judgment—a mistake. I’m sure it wasn’t done intentionally. Besides, isn’t Meriel David’s daughter? And don’t they live in the keep?”

“Aye.” He pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose. “I suspect it would be very awkward for ye to dismiss her.”

“Ye are right. But neither can I tolerate that level of disrespect, particularly not from clansmen and women who serve in this keep.” Still, Mairead was right. What would this do to David?

“Then perhaps ye could reassign them to another position. The choice to accept or leave would be theirs. Ye will not have thrown them out.”

Tadhg thought about this a moment then began to chuckle. “David won’t let Meriel choose dismissal. Ye’re sure this is acceptable to ye? Many men would say even dismissal would be too lenient a punishment.”

Mairead sighed. “If ye think it would be seen as a sign of weakness, then ye must do what ye think is best. I’m sure once the issue is addressed it isn’t likely to happen again. I don’t want to be the reason for two of yer staff to be dismissed within days of my becoming Lady Matheson.”

He put his arms around her. “Mairead, ye are not the reason. Ye are right. It was a terrible error in judgment and it will never happen again. They entered their laird’s chamber without gaining permission or ensuring it was unoccupied and, whether ye were in here or not, that is nearly unforgivable. If ye had not been here, they would have been dismissed before they ever left the room.”

She returned the hug and rested her cheek against his chest. “How ye deal with them is up to ye, but it is all right with me if ye reassign them.”

“Then I will grant ye that. However, they will offer a public apology. Would ye prefer I accept it on yer behalf or will ye go with me, my tender-hearted little bride?”

Mairead sighed again. “I don’t want to be seen as weak either. I will go with ye.”

Tadhg tightened his embrace. “Mairead, sweetling, why on earth would anyone have ever called ye a mouse?”

Together they went downstairs to the great hall. A hush fell as they entered. Obviously, the news of what happened had spread rapidly. They took their seats at the table, but Tadhg did not give the signal to serve the meal immediately. He ordered Meriel and Kester to present themselves.

Before Tadhg could say anything to her, Meriel started to explain, “Laird, it was a misunderstanding, an accident—”

“Silence!” The entire hall fell silent. “In spite of the best intentions, misunderstandings and accidents happen and when they do I try to be tolerant of them. However, failing to gain permission to enter my private chamber is neither a misunderstanding nor an accident.” There was an audible gasp in the room suggesting at least a few people were not yet privy to the full story.

“But, Laird—”

He cut her off. “Enough, Meriel! Did ye call out or knock on the door to my chamber before entering it? Did I fail to hear ye?”

“No, but I thought ye weren’t—”

He put up his hand to stop her. “It doesn’t matter what ye thought. Ye should have ensured the room was empty before entering unbidden, and failure do that is a level of disrespect I will not tolerate.”

“But I—”

“Do not argue this point further! Surely ye are aware it would be well within my right to have both of ye beaten?” This time the gasp was louder and followed by murmurings.


Silence!
” he commanded the hall. “In spite of what ye might deserve, I will not have ye whipped. I had decided to dismiss both of ye and have ye removed from the keep, but on further consideration—” He paused, glancing at Mairead before continuing. “—if ye wish to continue working at Cnocreidh, it will be in other positions. Kester, ye may work as a laborer in the stables if ye choose.”

There were shocked looks on many faces. Kester looked both embarrassed and contrite. “Laird, I am dreadfully sorry for the intrusion. I’ll work in the stables. Thank ye for not dismissing me outright.”

Tadhg accepted Kester’s apology with a nod. “Kester, yer work in the stables should not normally bring ye into the keep, but under no circumstances should ye enter the south tower unless I personally give ye leave to do so.”

“Aye, Laird—thank ye, Laird.” He bowed before leaving the hall.

“Meriel, if ye wish to continue working it will be as a scullery maid.”

“A scullery maid, Laird?” Both the expression on her face and her tone of voice conveyed her disgust at the idea.

At this, her father stood and pounded his fist on the table. “Meriel, how dare ye shame yerself and me in this manner? Laird Matheson has been more than lenient with ye, and he offered ye a fair choice.”

Meriel stood rigidly with her jaw clenched and did not respond. “Meriel, what is yer decision?” Tadhg prodded.

She looked livid, and tears pooled in her eyes. It was obvious she believed the punishment was neither fair nor lenient. Finally, she said, “I choose the scullery.”

When she didn’t offer her apology, Tadhg prodded her gently. “Ye will also apologize, Meriel.”

She looked from him to Mairead, her eyes shooting daggers. “I’m sorry, Laird,” she ground out.

Tadhg’s jaw clenched as he stared at Meriel for a moment.


Meriel!
” her father thundered.

She scowled at her father, angry tears sliding down her cheeks.

Tadhg sighed; her behavior disappointed him. “Ye will continue to reside in the keep with yer family, however, ye also are not permitted to enter the south tower unless I personally give ye leave to do so. Is that understood?”

“Aye, Laird.” She was clearly furious.

“Leave the hall now,” Tadhg ordered.

She looked as if she wanted to protest, but she clamped her mouth shut and left the hall for the west tower.

Tadhg motioned for supper service to begin.

David turned to him. “Laird, I am very sorry. My daughter’s behavior was unconscionable. I appreciate yer lenience with her.”

“David, she is nearly a woman grown. I do not hold ye responsible for her actions.”

Elspet also approached the table. “Laird, I too must beg yer pardon. I thought I told Meriel to make sure the bath was ready for ye after supper.”

“Elspet, ye have nothing for which to apologize. I am confident yer instructions were perfectly clear and even if they weren’t, ye certainly did not prevent them from knocking on the door.”

Mairead had remained silent while Tadhg addressed the issue and she continued to be very quiet through supper. Undoubtedly the whole affair had been distressing to her. Within hours of her arrival, he had learned her reticence increased when she was embarrassed or became uncomfortable. Watching her now was beyond painful. As soon as the meal was over, he whisked her out of the hall, away from the eyes of the clan.

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