Authors: Margaret Moore
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
STANDING OUTSIDE the buttery, Riona crooked her finger for Polly to join her. "In here a moment, Polly," Riona said
quietly
. "I want to talk to you."
Her eyes wide with curiosity, the maidservant put down her bucket and came without hesitation. "What's going on?" Polly whispered.
"It's about Lady Eleanor and her turn at running the kitchen tomorrow."
Polly shrugged. "She can't be any worse than that Lady Joscelind, or Lady Lavinia. A more scatterbrained woman I never saw. O'course, if she'd not spent half her time in here with that Audric, she might have done better."
Riona momentarily forgot what she wanted to say to Polly. "Lavinia was in the buttery with Audric?"
Polly grinned. "Yes—a lot. But it's all right, my lady. Seems they're going to be married. Lady Lavinia's maid told me, and she's that thrilled, you'd think she was the bride. Audric lives in London and Sally's always wanted—"
"I'm delighted for her," Riona said, cutting off what was likely to be a long recitation of Sally's desires. "And that means, you realize, that Lady Lavinia won't be Sir Nicholas's bride."
"No, and God save us, not that Lady Priscilla, I hope, neither," Polly said. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, that laugh of hers! Like a horse with the wheezes."
"So you'll agree with me, then, Lady Eleanor would be the best choice for Sir Nicholas."
"No, I don't," Polly said stoudy. "That'd be you. Lady Eleanor's a sweet girl and all, but—"
"While I appreciate your compliment, Polly, Sir Nicholas is never going to choose me. I don't have a large dowry. Lady Eleanor does, and she's pretty and gentle. I think she could even mellow Sir Nicholas a bit."
"You really think she has a better chance than you?" Polly asked, a look of dismay on her pretty face.
"Yes, I do, and you have to agree she'd be a better mistress than Lady Joscelind."
"Anybody'd be better than her. God love you, my lady, I'd rather have Alfred back than her. But I still say it ought to be you, and if it's not.. .well.. .1 never took Sir Nicholas for a fool before."
"He's not a fool. He's a man who's worked hard for what he has, and must marry well in order to.. .Well, like any nobleman, he must marry with an eye to the future. So if you prefer Lady Eleanor for your chatelaine, you must do your best to help her tomorrow, and persuade the other servants to do likewise. I've tried to teach her as well as I can, but you and I both know that a fine meal really depends on the servants."
Polly frowned, and
reluctantly
nodded. "All right, since you 're asking."
Riona smiled with genuine relief. "Good. And thank you. Eleanor will thank you, too, I'm sure. Now I'll leave you to get on with your work."
"Do you want us to ruin Lady Joscelind's meal tonight?" Polly asked as Riona started to open the door. "It'd be our pleasure and it'd serve Lady Joscelind right."
Riona shook her head. "No, no sabotage, Polly. All I ask is that you do your best for Eleanor."
Riona left the buttery and continued out in the courtyard. The air was warm, with a slight breeze that had a hint of the tang of the sea in it. Overhead, white clouds moved slowly across the sky, with darker ones on the horizon threatening rain. Lady Marianne and her husband were to leave for Lochbarr in the morning; perhaps rain would keep them in Dunkeathe another day or so.
Not sure what she ought to do, Riona strolled toward the gate. She hadn't seen Uncle Fergus since mass, but that wasn't so unusual these days. If he wasn't trying to get the recalcitrant Fredella to speak to him, he was riding about the valley helping Thomas select sheep.
"A moment if you please, Lady Riona!" a woman's voice called out in Gaelic.
She turned to find Lady Marianne hurrying across the courtyard toward her. "How fortunate to find you! I was hoping for a chance to speak with you before we went home. I have a
little
time before Cellach will need me. Will you walk with me to the village?"
To refuse would be blatantly rude. "If it pleases you, my lady."
"Excellent."
Riona fell into step beside Nicholas's sister, who had the most graceful walk and perfect posture Riona had ever seen.
"The village is growing all the time," Lady Marianne noted. "I think at least five new families have come since I was here last, before Cellach was born. And there's another smithy, too, and soon another tavern, Nicholas tells me. We'll have to keep an eye on Roban next time." She slid Riona a smile. "He's quite a fellow to drink with, or so I understand."
"I think my uncle would agree."
Lady Marianne laughed sofdy. "So would my husband. I hope you weren't too upset with them."
"No," Riona prevaricated, wondering if she should say anything about the aftermath and her uncle. She decided against it.
They reached the gates, and the Saxon guards dutifully and respectfully came to attention as they passed by.
"I see they're
still
here," Lady Marianne remarked as they walked down the road that led through the inner ward toward the massive gatehouse. "Nicholas had his doubts about them at first, for they're not the smartest of men, but he claims they're good fighters."
In the ward, a group of soldiers were practicing with a quintain, a dummy mounted on a moving circular platform. It taught men to be quick to react, before they got hit with the arm of the dummy.
A familiar thrill of excitement wove its way through Riona as she tried to see if Nicholas was among them without revealing any particular interest in the activity.
"My brother still believes in training, I see," his sister remarked.
"
Apparently
," Riona replied, thinking some answer was called
for.
"I feared he was never going to finish this castle," Lady Marianne said, gesturing at the walls. "It was only half-built when I first came here five years ago. How I hated Scotland then! It was so wet and dreary, and I knew little about the Scots. And of course, I hadn't yet met Adair."
Riona was tempted to ask about those days, for she'd heard some of the gossip about that strange courtship, but it was really none of her business.
"I must confess I didn't like Adair much at first. I thought he was quite rude. And arrogant. I believed I already knew the most arrogant man in the world—Nicholas. He can be very arrogant, don't you think?"
"Sometimes, my lady, but he deserves to be proud, after all that he's accomplished."
Lady Marianne smiled. "Indeed, he does. Just how much he'd accomplished, I never appreciated until I came here. In fact, it wasn't until I was arguing with him over my betrothal that I found out that after my parents died, our family was left with nothing. Nicholas promised my mother that he would always look after me and he spent many a year saving all the money he could so that I could live in comfort and happiness, and Henry, too. Yet he never said a word about it, or gave any sign, or asked for our thanks— until I refused to marry the man he chose for me. He was furious and the truth came out as we
quarrelled
. He was even more angry when I married Adair. But he came to our aid when we needed him most, and for that, I'll be forever grateful."
They passed through the second gate and continued toward the village. In the distance, Riona could make out the tavern, and the place where Percival had accosted her. At the edge of the green, the archer was being locked back in the stocks. He seemed to have accepted his fate with resignation, just as she had.
"Nicholas gave up a good deal for Henry and me, yet in spite of that, he succeeded where plenty of other men have not. His
castle
and his reputation are proof of that. But I don't think Nicholas feels that he's done enough, even now."
Riona knew he didn't, and why, but it was for Nicholas to voice his concerns to his sister, not her.
They came to the first few stone cottages. Lady Marianne turned down an alley that led to the river. "We can sit on the bank, if the grass is dry," she proposed.
Riona silently agreed and followed her to the stony bank.
"The grass is too wet," Marianne observed. She gestured to some large stones near the water's edge. "These rocks aren't. Not the softest seats in the world, but I can't linger long anyway."
She sat on a large one and Riona did the same.
When they were settled, Marianne gave a deep sigh. "Oh, it's lovely to have a few moments to myself."
"I know how you feel, my lady. That's one reason I came here with my uncle. I wanted to get away from my responsibilities for a little while."
How long ago it seemed since she'd had that conversation with Kenneth, and Uncle Fergus had come home with his news. How much had happened, and how her world had altered since.
"You have many responsibilities in Glencleith, I understand. Your uncle was telling me about you and all the things you do for him and your cousin and your clan."
Riona looked away. "He shouldn't boast so much. I do no more than any other woman would."
"Perhaps not, but I can appreciate what he doesn't say, because of what I've observed myself since I've been here. You may do your duty, and so might many another woman in your place, but you do it with love and cheerfulness."
"Uncle Fergus is a very lovable fellow."
Marianne laughed softly. "Aye, that he is. Quite a joy to talk to —and he loves you very much."
"Yes, he does," Riona answered. "That's why we came here even though I was sure your brother wouldn't want me. Uncle Fergus was so insistent, I didn't have the heart to disappoint him."
"You believe Nicholas won't choose you?"
Riona saw no point denying the inevitable. "Your brother has already told me that he has no intention of marrying me."
Lady Marianne frowned. "I'm very sorry to hear that."
She sounded genuinely disappointed, which made that reality a little harder to bear.
"Your brother has been very frank about why we're still here although my family has no money or power," Riona replied. "He doesn't want to risk any Scot saying he wouldn't consider a Scots bride. I am but a representative of my country."
Lady Marianne's disconcertingly intense gaze seemed to grow even more so. "Do you not care for Nicholas then?"
Riona tried to keep her face expressionless, beyond mere mild interest. "I admire and respect him for all that he's accomplished."
Lady Marianne's scrudny was nearly as hard to endure as her brother's, although the lady's eyes were blue, not brown. "Perhaps you don't think it's any of my business, but I dearly want the brother who sacrificed so much for me to have some happiness and contentment in his life. I know what it is to love and be loved, Riona, and I want my brother to know it, too. Without love, his great
castle
might as well be a tomb, just a resting place for his body."
"You should speak of these things to Eleanor," Riona said, "for I believe she's going to be his choice, and she should be. She's a wonderful girl, and she'll make him a fine wife."
"That's something I never thought I'd hear—a woman praising a rival."
"We're not rivals, my lady, since your brother will never choose me. We're friends."
"If you truly are her friend, you wouldn't want her married to my brother."
Riona couldn't believe she'd heard aright.
"Oh, he's not an evil man," Lady Marianne hastened to clarify. "And I like Lady Eleanor, too. She's a lovely young woman and quite charming, in a quiet sort of way. And well connected, of course. I simply don't think she'll suit my brother at all."
Riona thought she could guess why. "To be sure, she's young and a bit ignorant of some things about running a household, but she learns quickly, and I'm sure she'll manage well, in time."
Lady Marianne's brow furrowed as she studied Riona, who desperately tried not to betray anything in her face. "Do you think she can make my brother happy?"
"Yes." Eventually. Some day. And then she would be forgotten, or no more than a pleasant memory of a lover from days gone by.
"You mean that, don't you?"
"Yes."
Lady Marianne rose. "Then there is no more to be said, except that I'm sorry you feel that way. Now if you'll excuse me, I should get back to my children."
Riona was sorry she'd upset Lady Marianne, but there was no help for it. What good would it have done to tell her how she truly felt about Nicholas? That she would give nearly anything to be his wife? Nicholas couldn't marry her. Love would not pay taxes. Love would not protect everything Nicholas had worked and suffered for. Love meant sacrifice, as well as joy, and she would not be responsible for the loss of Dunkeathe. She wouldn't risk their affecdon turning to bitter resentment, perhaps even hatred. She would take what happiness she could with him, and be content.
And if she got with child...
She
abruptly
got to her feet and walked along the river bank, away from the castle.
A sound reached her ears from around a bend in the river shielded by a grove of willow and alder trees—a
little
boy's gales of merriment. A man was laughing, too. She
instantly
recognized that laugh, although it was rarely heard, and then softly, when they were alone.