The Enchantress (17 page)

“Then, why not have your steward see to it?” Seeing his frown, she gentled her tone. “I’m no authority on the running of a castle in this country, but where I was raised, the steward would be the man to see to matters such as this.”

He placed his hands on her waist again and pulled her back as Maire, remembering the bread, rushed to the oven and started pulling out the blackened loaves.

“The steward died,” he said gruffly.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but if you don’t make a change here soon, you’ll be losing these two women as well.”

“Are they ill?”

She looked up into his face. Smoke was hanging in a cloud above his head. “Even young women can be overworked, and these two are not young women.”

To her disappointment, his hand dropped from her waist. “They haven’t voiced any complaints.”

“They wouldn’t. You’re the laird.”

His eyes narrowed. “But they would tell you? And who are you? An outsider who has been here only a night?”

Her temper flared again. “True, I’ve been here a night. True, I’m an outsider. But I would have to be blind not to see the signs.”

“Signs?”

She nodded. “Well, take the food, for one thing. The problem is not that you have a horrible cook who is careless; the problem is that two old women who have to manage the running of an entire castle cannot feed an army of men in addition.”

Laura glanced at the direction of Maire as she took out the last of the bread out of the oven. “They have clearly been doing what they can. Without even boys to turn the meat on the spits or helpers to clean up after them. Never mind someone to tend the fires properly, or organize the bread making, or butcher and hang the meats properly, or brew the ale, or pluck the fowl, or--”

“Janet is a fine brewer. She’s been brewing since I was a lad.”

Laura gentled her tone. “Whether they are silent out of their respect for you, or because they think that what they do is insignificant to other problems you must deal with, I do not know. But they need help here.”

“I am not everywhere. I cannot read people’s minds. Perhaps I am not
gifted
in recognizing signs.”

“How can we be anything but what we are? But this is where having a steward--someone whom you can trust and delegate such matters to--will make a difference.”

He eyed her for a moment and then looked at the two women digging in search of something through a pile of bowls on a table. Then, without a word or a sign, he turned and headed toward a door leading across a small passageway to the Great Hall.

Unwilling to be dismissed so abruptly, Laura hurriedly followed him into the Hall. “So are you planning to make a change here?”

Gesturing curtly to a number of men lounging on a bench in the Great Hall, William turned for the huge studded oak doors of the main entryway. She continued after him, trailing the laird down the steps into the cobble stone yard.

“William, Janet and Maire are both old women. As I said before, work them this hard, and they will become sick.”

He turned around to face her. As he waved Edward, the bearded warrior, and the rest of the men on, Laura suddenly realized that she was standing out in the freezing air without even the protection of a wrap. She wrapped her arms around her and tried to keep from shivering.

“You’re their laird. And they trust you to make a difference--to take care of them.”

Her eyes widened when he brought his large hand to her face, cupping her chin, lifting it. She looked up into his blue eyes, saw gentleness and then desire. He was going to kiss her; she was certain of it. Her heart stopped.

“And who is taking care of you, Laura Percy?”

His question was so unexpected that she lost her words. “Me? I...I...have no--”

“Are you still having those disturbing dreams?”

She was too shocked to speak. Her throat clamped shut. And despite the coldness of the air, a scorching heat crept into her face.

He gently brushed his knuckles against her cheek and let his hand drop. “We’ll get more help for Janet and Maire.”

He turned and strode off toward the arched gate and open portcullis, where his men were waiting for him. But Laura remained where she was, no longer feeling the cold, watching his retreat and wondering what all the fluttering turmoil inside her meant.

*****

No smiling or tearful crowd had come out to say farewell to the group. Miriam looked up wistfully at Hoddom Castle’s tall keep, searching the windows for some sign of her grandfather. But there was none. No waving hand, no shadow of him watching from his chamber.

Nanna Jean’s weeping gave way to a terrible, wrenching cough as she took leave of her sister. She was very ill and growing worse every day, but Lord Herries had insisted that they leave immediately.

Miriam watched Sir Wyntoun shake his head as he turned his horse toward the open gate, and the others followed. Two barking dogs raced up from the village, baring their teeth and growling at the travelers as the small group pushed down the road toward the ford.

She bit her lip and fought back the tears burning her eyes. After one last look back at Hoddom Castle, Miriam turned and stared ahead at the endless line of hills leading into the mist-enshrouded mountains beyond. She had no memory of the place that awaited at the end of this journey.

William Ross. She repeated the name in her head. William Ross. Her protector. Her guardian. Her uncle.

Vowing silently to be the best that she could be, she thought of William Ross and everything that she would do to make her uncle proud of her once she arrived at Blackfearn Castle.

She would be brave. She would be kind. She would be a perfect seven-year-old, so her uncle would have no other choice but to love her.

Miriam stabbed away a runaway tear. And she would not cry. Not at Blackfearn Castle, and not here--even though she was leaving forever the only place she had ever called home.

Even if someone did not love her enough to say good-bye.

William watched with interest the attack on the standing wood posts. His warriors were certainly becoming proficient with the new German halberds. An eight foot pole topped by an iron head that combined both battle-ax and spear, the weapon carved huge chunks out of the posts on the first assault. Once the fighting became hand to hand, the halberd was a vicious instrument of destruction.

God knows, the English had used it well enough in the butchery that took place at Flodden.

“Odds’ blood, wouldn’t Duncan Munro be surprised to find a hornet’s nest of
these
waiting for him on one of his raids into Ross lands?” Edward said, walking back from the well and handing William a bowl of water.

“Aye. And if Gilbert’s soothing letters to Sir Walter fail to have any effect, I’ve a feeling we’ll be using them against the Sinclairs before long as well.” The laird drank and handed it back. “Any improvement in the kitchen?”

Edward’s obscenity was graphic and to the point. “Peter’s wife came from the village to take over for auld Janet this morning.”

“Any improvement?”

Edward snorted. “I do not believe I would put it just that way. Since walking into the place, the woman has been so red in the face, storming about the kitchens, fighting tooth and nail with Janet. Wee Robbie says they both look like cherries about to burst. My advice, m’lord, would be to avoid the fish today. Odds’ blood, the woman will probably poison us all.”

“What’s wrong now?”

Edward shrugged. “If you’re looking for an explanation for a woman’s actions, you’re asking the wrong man. I don’t understand them--never did and never will.”

“Did you not gather more help than just the one?”

“Aye. Robbie says Peter’s wife cursed out the whole bunch of them, saying she cannot be doing her work with so many idlers standing around watching her. The lad says the last straw came when Chonny started chiding her.”

A movement drew the laird’s attention, and William turned in time to see two hawks circling low over the east wing of the castle.

“Maire also told me again that Mistress Laura wishes to have an audience with you.”

William had been dogged in his determination to avoid her. He could not help himself when he was near her. He could not keep his hands off her. He turned his attention back to the men in the training yard. Three days had passed since he’d lost his mind in the courtyard and nearly kissed her beautiful mouth in front of everyone. Since then the snow covering the training yard had been churned into a frozen gray ooze.

And the way she’d been concerned about
his
people. Those violet eyes flashing up at him. And then the heat--that pretty blush that crept into her face anytime he came close to her. She was just too much of a temptation. One that he couldn’t risk trying to fight. Nay, he told himself, some temptations are simply meant to be avoided.

But he was tired of being so damned virtuous.

William realized that Edward was addressing him. “...and you realize Father Francis is leaving today.”

“What? And is he taking Lau--Mistress Percy with him?”

“Nay, William. Your niece could reach Blackfearn anytime now. The priest says Mistress Percy should be here when the lassie arrives.”

William again looked up and watched the circling hawks. They were obviously interested in something inside the castle walls.

“The old man says the provost will be coming here as soon as Francis arrives back at St. Duthac’s. I believe Gilbert told you that he wishes to be here as well.”

Very good! With Gilbert around, there would not be many chances of being left alone with Laura. Now, if he could only busy himself enough to keep his mind off the woman.

“And Tar’s uncle is coming here tomorrow morning so that you can talk to him about the steward’s position.”

William nodded vaguely, his attention suddenly fixed on the hawks. One of them began to dive, angling into a sweeping curve and passing quite near to one of the windows of the east wing before climbing high into the sky.

“What the hell is going on up there?”

After glancing up at the circling hawks, Edward’s eyes followed the direction of the laird’s gaze. “That last window would be Mistress Laura’s bedchamber.”

“I know that.” William’s muscles stiffened, and he took a step toward the keep. Behind him, several of his men drew near. “Is she up there?”

“I believe so. The word going ‘round the castle is that you’ve forbidden her from joining the rest of the household in the Great Hall, though I don’t know the truth of that. But aye, the lass has been staying fairly close to her room, such as it is.”

William watched as the wooden shutter opened a little and a hand appeared, dangling something out the window at the end of a short string. Immediately, one of the hawks shot like an arrow out of the sky. An instant before the predator hit the hand, the woman flipped the bait upward, drawing in her hand as the bird flashed by.

The hawk quickly ascended, its prize dangling from talons that could rip open a man’s arm.

“What’s the lass doing?” Edward asked incredulously.

“Feeding them,” one of the warriors said in wonder.

“The blasted creatures could take off her hand,” another said in awe.

William looked around and found everyone on the yard had stopped to watch the spectacle.

“By the devil!” he muttered, starting for the keep. There was no way he could send any one of his men to her room. Stepping into the kitchen doorway, he found himself in the midst of a small riot of angry, cursing workers. Seeing a red-faced Janet arguing with Peter’s Wife and a surprisingly vociferous Chonny at the far side of the fray, William immediately turned up the old steps that led to the east wing. Maire was nowhere to be seen, and it would be no use asking Janet to go up to Laura’s room, he thought.

Turning the corner at the landing and ascending quickly, William suddenly missed a step, falling forward heavily. As he pushed himself up, the laird realized that the step he’d ‘missed’ was absent altogether. Cursing as he rubbed his bloodied shin and knee, he made a mental note to have the damn step repaired.

Once he was safely in the upper floor passages, he was surprised at the poor condition of the roof and at the bitter cold that permeated the building.

Edward, he remembered, had advised him about the state of disrepair existing in this wing, but William had chosen to ignore it. Just as he’d ignored everything else that Mildred had valued.

At the end of the corridor, he paused before knocking on the oak door. What the hell was he doing here, anyway? It was no accident that she had been situated in this wing. He’d wanted her to feel uncomfortable and unwelcome; then she herself could decide to leave. So what if she was in danger of losing one of those pretty fingers to a frenzied hawk?

His knuckles were rapping on the door in an instant.

“You may enter, Maire.”

Her soft call caused him to hesitate a moment. What indeed was he doing? He knew the safest thing for him to do was simply to turn around and leave her to her foolishness.

He pushed open the door.

She was leaning out the window now, peering upward intently. As William rested his shoulder against the doorjamb, he had quite a good view of her shapely bottom. Thoughts flitted through his mind of walking into that bedchamber and taking her in his arms and tossing her onto that narrow cot. The tightening in his loins told him he was not far from doing just that. By God, he thought, he could easily spend a month in here and let everything else rot. And how pleasant that month would be.

“Put the tray right on the floor, Maire. Sit down and rest your leg a bit.”

With her back still to him, Laura straightened up at the window. As he watched, she tied a chunk of meat from a plate on the ledge with a short piece of thread.

“I saw the laird training in the yard with his men before. I assume he still refuses to see me.” She sounded unhappy about it, and William’s eyebrows arched with surprise. “Father Francis said that Miriam could be arriving here as early as this week. I wish William Ross would put aside his...well, his disinterest in me for a moment and just listen to me. There is so much to do.”