“Lila, stop.” Jenny strode forward, ready to do bodily damage to the diva. Instead of trying to take on Lila all by herself, she'd brought reinforcements--Father Thomas, Elspeth and Meg. Even if they couldn't understand most of what Jenny was about to say to Lila, they could hogtie the bleach-out-of-the-bottle blonde while Jenny force fed her.
“I decided to forgive you for your bitchy attitude, Jenny, but don't push your luck. Now, bring me my coffee.”
Mopping her face with her hand, Jenny felt the urge to scream at her boss. “Lila, we're in the past. There isn't a coffee shop for me to go to.”
“Well, then brew it for me. Better yet, get me a vodka on the rocks. I have the worst headache.”
“Lila, you have to stop and listen to me. You aren't going to get your way here. These people are squeaking out a living as we speak. They don't have time to deal with you.”
“What sort of a fucked up intervention is this?” She picked up the tin cup from the chest and flung it at nobody in particular. It flew against the far wall. None of the witnesses ducked, or paid attention to the cup clattering to the floor. “I told you what to do, now do it.”
“I can't.” Jenny infused her tone with determination instead of resignation. “You can't have what you want or your way. That's not how it works here.”
“Fine, prissy bitch, since you're so smart, you tell me how it works here?”
“Iaen—Laird Kincaid—will find a duty for you. Eventually, you'll meet a man who will ask him for the privilege of wedding you.”
Lila tilted her head so she was staring down her nose at Jenny. “What's your duty, Jenny? Are you the chief slut and cock sucker?”
“Enough!” Infuriated, Jenny shooed everybody out of the room. She stood at the door, glaring at Lila. “When you're hungry, you'll come out. When you can't get your way by pouting, you'll come to your senses. When all your friends desert you because we aren't going to join you in your pity party, you'll realize how nasty a bitch you've become. Until then, have fun all by your lonesome because the rest of us are sick of you and your attitude.”
“You can't leave me like this.”
Jenny closed the door on Lila's shriek of dismay. The crash of something breaking boomed through the room. “When she falls asleep have everything she can hurt herself with removed from her room.” Highly doubting the diva would go to that extreme, it was a common sense decision. A bigger problem mocked Jenny. She hated herself for abandoning Lila. If only you'd met me half way or given me another choice. “Did Laird Iaen appoint a guard to her room?”
“Aye, milady. I am to stand watch,” the young warrior who had met her in the hallway an hour ago announced.
“Malcolm, right?” After he nodded, she went on. “Okay, this is what I need you to do. She'll sell her soul to the devil for a drink. Under no circumstances are you to give her one, even if she threatens to pitch herself over the balcony.” Thinking literally, Jenny pointed her finger at him. “That doesn't mean you should let her pitch herself over the balcony. I mean, that's crazy.” She started to shake. Lila was going through withdrawal and in a sick way so was she.
The thought of leaving Lila to her own devices made her ill. She was the responsible administrative assistant, the one who stomped out the fires and handled Lila's busy schedule.
“He understands your order, milady,” Father Thomas intervened. “Why don't you rest? You've had a busy day and it isn't even nuncheon.”
“I think I will. Is there any word from the river?” Her already taut nerves had tightened further when she’d caught hold of some whispers this morning. With Father Thomas’s hesitant translations, she’d learned members of Clan Kincaid were in danger.
“Laird Iaen left only moments ago, milady. We'll let you know as soon as word reaches the Keep,” Father Thomas promised.
She watched all of them nod. “Thank you all for your help.” Tears dripped from her cheeks once more. Worn out from the past day, she bowed her head. “I know I'm difficult right now, but I'll make you proud of me someday. I promise.”
“Meg, see your lady to her room. Elspeth and Malcolm, I'd have you join me,” Father Thomas said.
“What will we do for her? The poor lass is at her limit.”
Jenny heard Elspeth say that before she entered her chamber. “Tell them not to worry about me.” The stock response had overstayed its welcome.
“Aye, milady. I will.”
“I think I'll sit by the fire for a little while.” Sticking to very simple sentences, Jenny sat down heavily in the wooden chair. Chilled and dealing with the fact Lila had to want to get through her misery, she scrubbed her hands up and down her arms, wondering what the future held for her. Could she give up on being the 'go-to' girl? Did she have a choice?
The defining answer was—no.
“As you wish, milady.” Meg hurried across the room. She snatched the blanket from the foot of the bed and covered Jenny with it. “I'll fetch you some tea. A nice bracing cup always does wonders for me, milady.”
“That's a wonderful idea. I'd love some.”
***
“Graham Kincaid, come out here, you stubborn old fool. The river is nigh at your doorstep.”
Iaen listened to Patricia Kincaid shout at the cottage. The good news was the rain had stopped pouring from the heavens. It now fell as a light drizzle which froze upon the blades of grass and coated the barren tree limbs with ice. The other side of the coin was the river continued to rise. “Patricia, get yourself and your family to the Keep afore you freeze,” he ordered the widow in a no-argument-allowed tone. “Think of your children, lass, afore you call my command an act of charity.”
She bobbed a curtsy. Calling her family forward, she started walking up the muddy trail, seven of her children trailing her while her youngest rode on her mama's hip.
“Kevin, hurry ahead and inform Lady Jenny to expect visitors.” Iaen turned to the ramshackle cottage. His thoughts refocused on what had brought him to the river bank. The levies were failing and, with the loss of the earthen walls, more families were facing grave danger. 'Twas now a mass evacuation instead of being restricted to the few cottages in the low lying areas. “Order all other refugees who have not a place to sleep to the Great Hall.”
A frigid blast of wind coming from the north reminded him winter was upon them. Before long, the snows would swirl and the ground freeze hard. And his people, like most other of the Highland Clans, would retreat behind closed doors until spring. His clan was better off than many, but the loss of precious food stores would tax even the mighty Kincaids.
“Have you come to badger me, too, Iaen Kincaid?”
A small smile played at the corners of Iaen's lips. Only Graham would refuse to call him Laird. The grin slid away. “I come to care for my clansmen, Graham. You too are welcome in my home if that is your wish.” He stared at the grizzled warrior standing shakily in the doorway. Age showed in the deep wrinkles etching furrows in Graham's face. The pale pallor bleaching Graham's skin and the dark circles shadowing his eyes were impossible to disregard. His tunic hung on his skinny frame.
He was in the twilight of his waning days.
“My wish is for you to leave me alone, Kincaid.” He turned away, but for only a second. “I'd have you fulfill your sire's promise, Kincaid. I wish to be buried in the village of my birth.”
“Fine, my friend.” Iaen turned on the heel of his boot and strode to his stallion. He gathered the reins. His gaze returned to the door. Watching it swing shut, he stiffened his shoulders as he gained his saddle. “Goodbye, Graham.” He clenched his teeth until a muscle jumped in his jaw. “May God have mercy on your soul.”
Wheeling the stallion around, he kicked his warhorse into a cantor and headed north. He caught a glimpse of Castle Kincaid out of his peripheral vision. His thoughts turned to his naive wife. Aye, he regretted tricking Jenny, but there was nay help for it. Father Thomas agreed with his decision to wed the lass though the ecumenical man was loathe to perform
a Catholic ceremony. Uncertain if she was baptized into the church, they decided a quick exchanging of words would serve the lass better, and appease the clan—for now.
‘Twas part of the bargain he’d made with the priest that had Father Thomas glaring at the handfasting. He’d not explained to Jenny what he was about, which according to Father Thomas, went against the rules governing marriage by mutual consent.
A grin lifted his spirits for a brief moment.
If all went as planned, by nightfall Kevin would wed Charlzie by the same method. Iaen sobered just as quickly.
'Twas all for the sake of the clan. As many times as Iaen told himself those exact words he couldnae make them matter. He'd chosen Jenny o'er Charlzie because his lady showed grit. 'Twas partially self-serving. There was nay doubt he had to marry and produce an heir. And his heir would need to show backbone.
He'd gone back and forth with himself in a major battle as to whom. All the lasses he met showed a modicum of interest. 'Twas their feebleness, their shy innocence around him which delayed his decision. Iaen couldnae imagine himself married to a woman who shrank into solemn, fearful silence every time he entered the room. Nay, he required a woman of fortitude and personal strength.
Jenny had shown him those character traits. She stared him straight in the eye during their short interview. 'Twasn't until she cried during the wee hours that his heart gave a mighty chug. Aye, she was brave on the surface, but beneath she had a sweetness he was attracted to. She was also loyal to her friends. That trait was a facet, or flaw, depending on how he chose to view her dealings with Lila. He couldnae help but appreciate her.
Erred or flawed, she'd gained his notice.
The combination of her loyalty and personal resolve reaffirmed his decision to take her as his bride.
In the beginning, Father Thomas thought he should take the younger Charlzie. Once he made it clear Jenny was his desire, the priest capitulated. Though, Father Thomas continued to include The Veil in his conversation even after he'd been ordered to let off.
If 'twas true and the anomaly existed, so be it. There was naught he could do to change it.
The lasses were here. They'd have to become part of the clan or not. The decision now landed in their laps whether they wished to learn the Highland ways. He could, and had, given Jenny the protection of his name and title, but 'twas up to her to attain and surpass the clan's expectations set upon the tiny shoulders of the Laird's wife.
Deep in his gut, Iaen knew Jenny would not fail him.
The only fly in the funeral pie was Lila.
He sighed.
He eyed a group of refugees making their way through the slippery muck of the trail. Bent beneath the bundles they carried, he steered his stallion toward them. 'Twas then he saw the people headed for the Keep.
The entire trail was filled with them. He kicked his horse into a gallop, racing at breakneck speed along the quickly disappearing shoreline. Only one thing could cause the hearty people living along the river to leave their homes—disaster.
“Milord. Milord.” Iaen heard one of his warriors call. His eyes focused on the man running toward him.
Scowling, he reined in. “Aye?”
“The levy has broken.”
“Was everyone evacuated?” His throat worked to digest the full impact of the tragedy.
“Aye, but the cottages are flooded. The people have naught except the clothes on their backs and the few things they could gather before the water rushed in.”
“Get them to the Keep. I willnae be far behind you.” Iaen's thoughts returned to his wife. A pang of pity struck him. Her world was about to tilt one hundred eighty degrees. Be brave, my Jenny.
Chapter Five
When you are in the jungle, play by its rules.
“Why are you making that racket?” The door to Lila's room slammed against the wall. She wasn't a stumbling drunk when she appeared. Hell no, she was in all her glory and out for someone's hide. “What the fuck do you think you're doing? Jenny, put that brat down and come here. I want a drink.”
Jenny tilted her eyes to the balcony and cringed at the sight of her boss walking around buck naked. Lila had the audacity to shake her boobs at the refugees before she spun around to wiggle her liposuction-perfected ass. Mortified, Jenny rejected the instinctive urge to shade the children's eyes. “Don't pay her any attention, Mary. She hasn't been herself lately.” The baby cradled in her arms cooed before suckling on her fist.
Lila wasn't stupid by half, and for two days, she'd gone out of her way to show she wasn't about to cry surrender when it came to her drinking. Once she figured out nobody understood her ranting, she'd shifted to another attention getting mechanism—a visual one. She'd thrown a pitcher of water in Malcolm's face. The guard showed no outward reaction. Jenny wasn't as cool with it. Her angry response was nothing short of shrewish.
The war of wills escalated in direct proportion to the outrageousness of Lila's next stunt.
It wasn't past time for the antics to stop. It was necessary. Ignoring Lila hadn't helped, if anything, it made her more determined to make a fool of herself.
The Clan had started to whisper that Lila was touched by the Devil. Father Thomas was doing his best to squelch the flow of gossip, but Jenny had the sinking suspicion they weren't going to take much more. Fueling the Clan's concerns were the refugees’ reports from the Keep.
Part of her couldn't blame them for talking about Lila. It wasn't anything less than she deserved. The problem was Lila couldn't comprehend the danger she coveted. In her private world, she believed she was untouchable, the diva who did what she wanted when she wanted. Lila didn't realize most of her perception was brought on by Jenny and Charlzie sheltering and protecting her.
Jenny watched Patricia Kincaid bow her head in shame, then mumble something to the woman beside her. Racking her brain for the woman's name, Jenny shook her head when it wouldn't come to her. Her heart thudded as they both signed the cross. Heaving a disparaged sigh, Jenny didn't want to have to order them to stop gossiping, thinking that putting a proverbial gag order on rumor mongering would make them appear guilty, but it had to stop before a crowd of fear-inspired clansmen broke down the Great Doors with the intent of burning Lila at the stake.
Uncertain how to proceed, Jenny wished Iaen would hurry home or at least stop in to see how she was doing. It was totally selfish of her, but she could really use a hug and a bit of advice. He couldn't come home. His duty to one of his father's oldest friends had taken him to the northern corner of Kincaid land. She hadn't gotten the specifics except his unplanned trip was necessary. Step up to the plate. Be strong and figure this out. It can't be that hard or complicated. These are smart people who are just as stuck with Lila as you are. They're scared, and so are you.
“Milady, 'tis time for Mary's nap.”
Jenny slid the baby into Patricia's waiting arms. “Sleep well, sweet bairn.” The simple phrases she was picking up had helped to gain her favor with the refugees. And the numerous times she'd made a flub they were quick to help her correct her mistake.
“Milady, you seemed a hundred leagues away this afternoon. Is aught the matter?” Patricia asked as she laid Mary on her shoulder.
Nibbling on her lip, Jenny noticed how her hands shook. She opened her mouth to ask Patricia to leave her alone with her funk when Lila made her next move to get a drink. The bang of something hitting against the door echoed over and over because of the crazy acoustics in the Great Hall.
“I fear she is spoiled beyond redemption, milady.” Patricia settled her hand over Mary's ear to muffle the shrieks of rage coming from Lila's room. “She needs a spanking.”
Jenny took in Patricia's well-behaved children. How many times had she thought the same thing when her boss got out of control? Too many. “Spare the rod and spoil the child.” She held her hands out to Patricia, palms up. “I don't know what to do.”
“You arenae her mother, milady. You're her lady. Until you set her down and put
the rules before her, she will act out.”
Easier said than done. “What do I do when she doesn't listen?” Which is a guarantee considering her last few days.
“You punish her.” Patricia called Father Thomas to join them. In quick words and between crashes of things being toppled in Lila's room, she talked to the priest.
“What?” Jenny asked when Patricia finally turned to her, bobbed a curtsy and walked away. She snapped her gaze to Father Thomas. “Tell me.”
“Patricia is one of the strongest mamas I've ever met, milady. Many of her children are, 'struth, orphans who had nay family to go to. She's taken them in and in many instances taken them on. Rules are a part of helping them cope with the loss of their parents. She always has rules, even for Laird Iaen when he comes to her cottage. I say this so you know she wants to bring peace back to the Keep.”
“All right, I'm following you so far.”
“Patricia suggests you take everything away from Lila. Her bed. Her clothes save a simple, homespun frock. All her creature comforts but a blanket, pillow, and a mat on the floor. She'll eat gruel or bread and cheese only.”
“Excuse me?” Lila might not have been suicidal before, but take away everything? She'd pitch herself off the balcony. Dear God, help me.
“Every time Lila behaves, she gets something back. A reward, shall we say, which will show her the error of her ways. At first you start with the basic necessities such as her bed. In time, she may gain the privilege of joining the table and even going for walks through the village. 'Twill be a long process, milady.”
“Talk about tough love,” Jenny muttered under her breath. “It makes so much sense it's ridiculous, but I don't know how Lila is going to deal with this.”
Father Thomas sat beside her on the bench. He patted her hand in what she suspected was his way of cushioning of the truth. “Milady, it has to be done. Milord cannae have his household in chaos. The Clan will view him a weak leader if he cannae control one woman.”
The Highlander's Time Page 5