The Devil of Jedburgh (16 page)

Annie gulped down a deep breath and stood. “I’m not usually such a fright puss.”

“I suppose Ferniehirst can be a bit daunting.” Breghan glanced around her, taking in the rows of empty trestle tables and barren walls. The hall was cavernous, far larger than Donague’s and far less inviting. The draft from the arrow slits would be deadly cold in winter. “Forget the herb garden,” she exclaimed. “I’ve just had a wonderful idea.”

Breghan spent the rest of the day with Annie, picking apple blossoms from the lower boughs in the orchard and enjoying the sunshine. Annie said little except to answer questions, but her cheeks gradually filled with colour and she giggled when Breghan shook a thin branch to release a spray of blossoms over both their heads. Greer joined them in a picnic alongside the river for lunch and, afterward, Breghan invited her to help them in the orchard. The girls seemed to know each other and spoke in quiet voices when Breghan was out of hearing.

Both girls were so timid, Breghan was pleased they had each other and vowed to win their confidence as soon as possible. She’d always thought Donague overrun with men, but even there some female company had always been at hand and she was sorely missing her mother and Magellan.

When their baskets were full, they carried them, one under each arm, into the hall. “You two take that end.” Breghan pointed to the far side of the hall. “I’ll start here.”

They were halfway done before she noticed Bryan watching with folded arms and a puzzled frown.

“Doesn’t it smell lovely?” she called out to him as she sprinkled another handful of sweetly scented petals over the rushes. “Much better than the acrid smoke and greasy odours from the kitchen.”

“It won’t last longer than a day or so and the petals will turn slimy before they dry.”

“Then we’ll sweep the rushes up and do it all over again,” Breghan declared.

“That’s a lot of work.”

“We’ve a lot more hands to help.”

Bryan shook his head across the three of them and turned to go. But not before she glimpsed a fleeting smile that cleared the frown from his brow.

That evening, Breghan stopped just inside the hall and stared at the high table. Last night Arran had paused his conversation to stand and wave her over the moment she’d appeared. While his mood had been sombre and he’d spent most of supper with his head turned in Ewan’s direction, she now realised that even the occasional glance and comment had filled a lonely spot inside.

I miss him.

Ferniehirst feels empty without his presence.

Breghan laughed at the ridiculous notion and made her way to where Greer sat alone at one end of a trestle table.
The hall feels empty because that’s exactly what it is.
The servants and handful of Kerr men-at-arms filled less than a quarter of the surrounding tables.

As she took a seat opposite Greer, she caught Duncan’s eye and mouthed, “Join us.”

He stood at once, bringing his pewter plate and jug with him.

Breghan leaned in and said, “I’ve asked Duncan to sup with us, I hope you don’t mind.”

Greer peeked a glimpse of the man heading toward them and her cheeks blushed pink. “It’s not my place to mind, me lady.”

“Oh, I think you’ll like him, he’s very sweet. Duncan,” she exclaimed when he drew near, “have you met Greer?”

“My da farms the strip of land adjacent to Willie’s.” Duncan gave a nod in Greer’s direction as he sat down. “So one of you’s has changed your mind, then?”

“Or had it changed for us,” Greer murmured.

Duncan grimaced and turned to Breghan. “I thought you’d want to ride out today.”

“I hope you and Broderick didn’t hang around the stable all day waiting?”

“We were training in the fields. When you want to ride, send one of the stable lads to fetch us.”

“I’m sorry you had to stay behind to keep watch over me.”

“Arran didna want to leave you here without a familiar face and I was more than happy to oblige.”

“I doubt Broderick feels the same.”

Duncan took a moment to consider his answer, then was spared altogether when Gardie’s lads brought in platters of roasted mutton and green vegetables. Bryan usually served the high table and he had to stop and change direction when he spotted Breghan. He didn’t say a word about the seating arrangements and in return Breghan refrained from pointing out that Gardie’s lads could serve her just as well when the laird was away.

The days followed swiftly and soon formed a pattern of pleasure and work. Breghan chose to go riding straight after breakfast each morning so Duncan and Broderick wouldn’t feel as if they were waiting on her call. Half the Kerr land was cultivated, tended by the crofter families who rented from Kerr. Breghan preferred the tracks across the hills and dales where large herds of cattle and sheep roamed, although Broderick never let her go further than the patrolled boundaries.

When her trunks arrived, Greer was delighted to finally have a wardrobe to manage and Breghan was delighted at the seedlings her mother had sent along. She grabbed Annie and they spent two full days carefully replanting Gardie’s uninspired herb garden of dill, thyme, parsley and fennel. They separated the plants by their uses and properties and made space for the new seedlings. Most important were angelica, arnica and precious sticklewort, which were all beneficial in medicinal recipes.

The tapestry of Breghan racing her mare was hung in the hall, large enough to cover four arrow slits and contribute a splash of colour to the stark grey walls. They’d given up on the apple blossoms and laid longer-lasting heather in amongst the rushes instead. Breghan was so amazed by the effect of such small changes, she immediately cast her eye across the room to search for more potential improvements. Gardie’s lads were duly brought in from the kitchen to help rearrange the trestle tables so as to clear a wide half-circle in front of one of the hall’s two hearths.

“I’d like to commission two high-backed chairs,” Breghan said when they were done, “but that will have to wait until the laird returns. Meanwhile, let’s place some stools about the hearth.”

“Me da is good with his hands,” one of the boys said. “He helps with chopping in the forest and once he made me ma a sturdy table.”

“What is your name?”

“Thomas, me lady.” He swooped a strand of orange hair from his eyes. “He didna steal nothing, me lady, the laird said he could bring a log home.”

“That’s quite all right,” she said quickly, giving him a smile. “I’ll have a word with Bryan about it, if your father has time to spare?”

Thomas nodded so vigorously, Breghan went directly in search of Bryan to sound out her proposal. “We have access to oak growing in Jed Forest, don’t we?”

Bryan was less enthusiastic. “Thomas’s father is a good man, but when he’s not cutting wood for the castle, he has his fields to attend to.”

“The boy seemed to believe he’d find the time.”

“The laird would in all likelihood approve, and yet I’m sorry, m’lady, I don’t have the authority to spend coin on such matters without permission.”

Breghan sighed. “Neither do I.”

“I’ll speak to Thomas’s father and if he’s willing, we’ll broach the subject with the laird when he returns.”

“Any news?” Breghan asked. “He’s been gone for over a week.”

“The laird is in correspondence with his men-at-arms here. Word is, Moray and Châtelherault rode into Edinburgh with over a thousand men. The queen turned back from Glasgow to confront him there.”

“There will be a battle,” Breghan gasped.

“Not this time.” Bryan chuckled. “The Earl of Mar turned the castle guns on the city and the rebels fled after two days. Edinburgh would have been secured before the queen’s arrival.”

She’d been more worried about Arran than the queen, and for the first time Breghan considered the possibility of Arran not returning at all. In her mind, Arran was an imposing figure who rose above most men, a formidable tower of strength that couldn’t be breached. But no man was infallible. If Moray had instead managed to take the castle and turn those guns on Queen Mary’s army as they entered the city, Arran might have fallen along with the next man.

A knot formed in her stomach, twisting tighter as the day stretched until finally, as she lay in bed that night, Breghan was forced to examine her feelings.

I don’t want him to die.

Of course she didn’t. She understood the perils of Scotland, the wars and clan feuds that ravaged some families. Her father had become the McAllen laird when both his elder brothers had lost their lives at Solway Moss. Before that, his father and all his uncles had fallen at Flodden with James IV. In her short life, however, Breghan had been spared the worst, having lost neither father nor a single brother.

I’m unprepared for the death of someone I care about.

Therein lay the truth. No matter how much he frustrated and vexed her, no matter how much she fought and cursed and dreaded, Arran had claimed a small part of her heart, a part that would be forever lost in darkness if he were no longer in this world.

In this world somewhere, not necessarily too close.

Breghan nodded to herself, content with her conclusions. Caring enough to wish Arran alive and well was perfectly reasonable. After all, she was no monster to remain unaffected by the death of any person of her acquaintance.

From then on, Breghan made a point on quizzing Duncan on their ride each morning. The news filtered through sporadically and usually days after the event.

“The army rides for Glasgow once again,” Duncan informed her.

“But I thought Moray was believed to be fleeing to Dumfries?”

“The queen is more concerned about Argyll surrendering. The earl failed to join Moray in Edinburgh with his own troops but he’s still a threat and now hides behind the walls of Castle Campbell.”

“Arran willna appreciate cooling his heels in Glasgow instead of chasing after Moray and ending this runaround with a confrontation,” Broderick predicted.

Breghan gave silent thanks to God above that Arran was subject to the queen’s will.

It wasn’t long before she heard the queen had returned to Edinburgh to gather more troops, fearing an invasion from the South.

A few days later, Bryan approached with a broad smile. “I’ve had a word with Thomas’s father and he’s keen to make your chairs. He asks for payment in oak and birch from Jedburgh Forest and his son’s time. Seems the young Thomas is the true woodworker in the family.”

That explained the boy’s enthusiastic nodding. “I’ll speak to Gardie.”

“I already have. No reason he can’t start right away if he’s not expecting coin from the laird’s coffer.”

“Wonderful.” Breghan clapped her hands.

“What will be truly wonderful is if we don’t get burnt bread and water for supper. Gardie wasn’t happy about losing one of his lads for a couple of weeks.”

“Couldn’t we employ another maid from one of the crofter families to help in the kitchen?” Breghan put up a hand to halt the argument forming on his lips. “Commissioning furniture is outside my authority, but the laird won’t balk at me employing maids for the household as I deem necessary.”

“’Tis the getting of those maids that troubles me.” Bryan turned to go and she swore she heard him mutter, “Good luck with that,” as he went.

Breghan dismissed his sour disposition and went in search of Greer. The lack of female workers hadn’t escaped her notice. Surely that would change now that Ferniehirst had a mistress. A good hour later, however, Greer was nowhere to be found.

“Are you sure she hasn’t been through here?” she asked Annie, who was sweeping up the rushes in the hall.

“That’s the third time you’ve asked, me lady, and naught has changed. Perhaps she’s in the washhouse?”

“I’ve looked there and everywhere else.” Breghan went outside again and strolled all the way to the pigpens at the bottom of the bailey. On her way back, she stopped in at the stables, the stalls all empty at this time of day. She’d already asked, because she knew Greer had taken to bringing Angel apples from the orchard. Apparently half the men-at-arms had gone into Jedburgh earlier and the rest of the horses had been let out to graze. As she stepped out into the sunlight, she heard a noise from behind. Breghan paused and listened. There it was again. A distinctly female giggle.

Greer…

Her first instinct was to hold her breath and walk away on her tiptoes. The last time she’d ignored that instinct, she’d come across Callum and the image still upset her. This time she didn’t have the choice. She was mistress here and the castle maids were under her protection. She turned around, put her hands on her hips to bolster her determination and called out, “Greer! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

A long silence was followed by sounds of movement and muffled talking. Just when Breghan thought she might have to go hunting through the stalls, Greer appeared.

“Yes, me lady. I was…” She smoothed down her skirt, apparently oblivious to the straw sticking in her braid. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d be needing me.”

“Whoever else is there?” Breghan stared into the dim recesses. “You may as well come out.”

“This isn’t what it looks like, me lady.”

Breghan brought her gaze back to Greer, who dropped her eyes and shuffled her feet.

From the shadows, a figure emerged, drawing Breghan’s attention and a gasp. “Duncan.”

“We were only talking,” he said, his face so red, it almost glowed in the dim lighting.

“We used to be fast friends,” Greer said. “We haven’t seen each other for years and…and…we were just talking and remembering.”

“And playing around in the hay,” Duncan wiped his brow. “We were only grappling and tickling like we used—”

“Yes, well,” Breghan interrupted, uncomfortable in the role of listening to Duncan explain his actions and motives, “I really only needed to speak with Greer.”

Greer immediately came forward and stepped in line with Breghan as she walked toward the orchard.

“I’ve no wish to interfere with your affections,” Breghan said. “In truth, it makes me happy to see you and Duncan spend time together—
outside
the stables. You must understand that proprieties need to be maintained, Greer, especially if I’m to expect other mothers to allow their young daughters up to the castle.”