They stood staring at one another for a long while before Alec broke the uneasy silence. “I will be trainin’ with the men the rest of the day. I should be back before nightfall.”
“I shall have a nice rabbit stew ready when ye return,” she said as she fidgeted with the empty basket in her hands. She could not help but feel there was something more he wanted to say.
“Verra well,” he said with a slight inclination of his head.
And with that, he was gone, once again leaving without a proper kiss or goodbye.
After Alec left, she went straightaway to the kitchens. Kyth and Gylys were waiting for her when she arrived. “We fergot to give ye back yer baskets,” Gylys said as he swung two empty baskets from each index finger.
“I had fergotten as well,” Leona said as she entered the kitchen.
Setting her baskets on the table, she directed the men to do the same. Hanging her shawl on a hook by the door, she grabbed her apron. “I thank ye kindly fer yer help this day,” she told them.
“Think nothin’ of it, m’lady,” Kyth said from a spot near the hearth. “It looked to be fine bread.”
“I imagine ‘twould be quite good with a bit of berry jam on it,” Gylys offered.
“Aye, I agree,” Kyth said.
It took very little time for her to realize what they were hinting at. “Sit,” she told them with a nod toward the small table by the hearth. “I have some bread left, and jam.”
Happy with her offer, they scurried to the table and sat.
Leona retrieved two loaves of bread, a jar of butter and some jam from the larder. “If ever ye be hungry, all ye need do is say so,” she told them as she set the items on the table before them.
“Be careful what ye offer, m’lady,” Gylys said with a devious grin. “Kyth will surely take advantage.”
Kyth ignored the jest. Slathering his bread with butter and jam, he took a bite. “From heaven it be,” he said as he closed his eyes. He bore the same expression Alec did after loving. ’Twas all she could do not to laugh at him.
“I swear I’ve never had better.”
Having taken a bite, Gylys had to agree. “I bet the rest of yer cookin’ be just as good.”
Leona had to laugh at the two of them. “I fear I can only make a few things. Rabbit stew, venison stew, and the like. Just simple things, really. Nothin’ fancy like stuffed peacock,” she told them with a giggle.
“Och, ‘twould be a good change from the bannocks and soup Derrick makes,” Gylys said with a mouthful of bread.
“Be he a big man? Built like a stone wall?” she asked as she went into the larder to retrieve the vegetables she would need for the stew.
“Aye. He be the man who cooks fer us at the Armory. Verra good on the battlefield or as a smythie, but no’ with cookin’,” Kyth explained.
“But it beat starvin’ since Alice left,” Gylys added.
Kyth nodded in agreement. “Now there was a woman who could cook.”
“Who be Alice?” Leona asked as she grabbed an empty bucket.
“She was the cook here. But when Rutger died, she went to live with her daughter in Inverness. We have no’ had a good meal since,” Kyth said with a frown.
“Well, I be certain I am no’ as good as Alice, but I shall endeavor to do me best,” she said with a smile. As she opened the door and grabbed a second bucket, Kyth jumped to his feet.
“Allow me to do that, mistress,” he said before popping another large piece of bread into his mouth.
“Aye, ’tis the least he could do fer eatin’ all yer bread and jam,” Gylys said with a grin.
She was growing fonder of these men the more she time she spent with them. Opening the door a bit farther so that Kyth could leave, she thanked him kindly. He was about to go when he stopped dead in his tracks.
He paled visibly, his eyes growing as wide as trenchers. “Do no’ move,” he whispered. “He be out again.”
Leona leaned around the doorjamb in order to get a better view of what had Kyth frozen in place.
“Och!” she exclaimed happily. “’Tis just Alec’s pup.”
From behind her, she heard a chair scrape across the floor and the sound of Gylys withdrawing his sword from its scabbard. “Do no’ move, mistress,” he warned in a low hushed tone. “Shut the door slowly.”
Leona rolled her eyes. She had made friends with Alec’s hound two nights ago – a fact they’d both witnessed. Apparently, they still believed the bandogge was a danger. The dog caught sight of her and began to race toward her, with his tongue hanging out and his tale wagging.
Kyth began to slowly back up, visibly shaken by the sight of the bandogge coming toward him.
Confident she was in no danger, she stepped outside. “Good day, Patches,” she cooed at the dog. She had already decided to rename the dog. He was not such an ugly beast to deserve the moniker Alec had given him. Nay, she thought him a sweet dog, and therefore deserving of a kinder name. She settled on Patches, because of the patch around his eye and his two white feet.
Kyth dropped his buckets and withdrew his sword. “M’lady!” he whispered harshly. “Come back in.”
Ignoring him, she kneeled down and began to pet the dog. “That be a good boy, Patches. A right good dog.”
The dog licked her face, whimpering happily as she patted his neck and head. “Why do these men fear ye so?” she asked. “Ye would no’ hurt me, now would ye?”
The dog answered with a wag of his tail and another lick to her cheek.
“M’lady, ye do no’ understand,” Kyth whispered. “I’ve seen that dog chew a man’s leg clean off!”
“Aye,” Gylys said. “I have seen him tear a man’s arm from his shoulder!”
Ignoring what she could only assume were gross exaggerations, Leona continued to pet the dog. “Be ye hungry, laddie?” she asked the dog.
Standing up, she patted the top of his head one more time. “Come inside then, I have a bit of ham ye can have.”
Gylys and Kyth gave wide berth. So wide, in fact, they were at the back door, leaving Leona to wonder if they were not going to flee. “Lads,” she said in a firm tone. “He will no’ hurt ye.”
“Ye can no’ ken that, m’lady,” Gylys said nervously.
“Och, if ye be worried, then leave,” she told them.
“We can no’ do that, m’lady!” Kyth replied. “If anythin’ happened to ye, Alec would hang us both.”
“Then sit down,” she told them.
Patches was the only one to obey. The dog dutifully sat between the door and the table. The two grown men remained standing near the back door. “Lads, ye will be quite safe, I can assure ye. He will no’ harm ye,” she said as she went into the larder. She grabbed the ham and brought it back to the table. Using a large knife, she cut off a hunk and offered it to the dog.
“Patches, if ye promise no’ to tear a leg or arm from Gylys or Kyth, I shall give ye a bit of ham.”
The dog licked his chops, whimpered, but made no attempt to grab the ham from her hand. “That be a good dog,” she said with a smile. Petting his head with one hand, she fed him the hunk of meat with the other. He ate it in two bites, swallowed it down, and sat patiently waiting for more.
“Nay, that be all ye get fer now,” Leona told him.
“M’lady, please,” Gylys pleaded with her.
Before she could offer him a sharp retort, she heard Seamus calling for Satan.
“Och! Why they have given such a sweet beast as ye such a name, I do no’ ken.”
Casting a glance at the two worried men at her back door, she was forced to surrender. With a heavy sigh, she spoke gently to the dog. “Come, Patches, we should return ye to Seamus.”
The dog followed her out the door and across the yard.
“I fear our mistress be a bit tetched,” Gylys said as he started to follow her out. “She does no’ realize it be a bandogge and no’ a kitten.”
“I fear ye be right,” Kyth agreed.
They remained close enough they could protect their mistress if necessary, but not so close as to anger the bandogge.
After seeing the dog safely back into Seamus’ care, Leona returned to her kitchen. Gylys and Kyth were all too happy to get as many buckets of water as she wanted. But they left as soon as the chore was complete.
With the stew simmering nicely in the hearth, she set about making a few berry tarts for the evening meal. Gylys and Kyth had happily accepted her offer for them to sup with her and Alec later in the evening.
Once the tarts were baked, she set them to cool on the counter. Grabbing two buckets of warm water, she took them into the keep and above stairs to the bedchamber she shared with Alec.
He had left a pile of dirty clothes on the floor by the pitcher and basin. With a sigh, she set the buckets on the cold hearth before scooping the clothes up to put them in the hallway. After opening the furs to let fresh air in, she made the bed and lit a fire.
Her back and legs were beginning to ache. It had been a very long day. But no matter how tempted she was to take a wee nap, she refused. There was still too much to be done.
Leaving her chamber, she went in search of clean linens for the bed. Each of the chambers above stairs were empty and stark. Only two held any furnishings to denote their purpose.
Going below stairs, she continued her search. There had to be clean linens somewhere in the keep, but thus far, she was finding nothing.
When she left the eastern part of the keep and entered the gathering room, she came to an abrupt halt. Standing near the hearth was a woman she had not seen before.
To call the strange woman beautiful would have been an understatement. Her long, dark brown hair was drawn into a braid that cascaded over one shoulder. She wore an elegant burgundy dress, with long sleeves that tapered and fell past her wrists, almost to her ankles. The bodice was low-cut, giving just a hint of delicate breasts. Draped over the same shoulder as her braid was the Bowie plaid.
Leona felt inadequate at once. This stunning woman looked more the chatelaine and mistress of the keep than she. Prepared to turn and leave, she had almost gotten away when the woman spotted her.
“Good day, to ye,” she said. “Be ye the new mistress?”
Even her voice seemed elegant.
Reminding herself that jealousy was a sin, Leona swallowed what little pride she had and stepped into the gathering room. “Aye, I am.”
She was met with a warm smile and a graceful curtsey. “I did no’ get to meet ye earlier. I was visiting me mum. She has a wee farm a long walk from here. I be Patrice, m’lady. ’Tis a pleasure to meet ye.”
“’Tis a pleasure to meet ye, as well,” Leona replied. The only thing she’d ever envied in her life were people’s eyes. This new sensation was all together different; she was jealous of everything about this woman. Why did Alec choose me when he could have had her?
“If ever there be anything I can help ye with, all ye need do is ask. I have a wee cottage across the way. Just send word to me and I’ll help wherever I can.”
Her offer seemed genuine and from her heart. Leona knew she should feel grateful for it, for she had received so few kindnesses in her lifetime.
“I thank ye fer yer offer, Patrice.”
“Are ye makin’ yerself at home here?” Patrice asked. “Are ye findin’ everythin’ ye need?”
Wanting very much to rid herself of envy and jealousy, Leona sighed. ’Tis ridiculous to be jealous of this woman who is doin’ nothin’ but bein’ kind. “I can no’ find clean bed clothes. I have searched every room below stairs, and they all be empty.”
“They be above stairs,” she explained. “We have a small room above stairs where we keep such things.”
We? The question burned, the jealousy rising. Was this beautiful woman by chance Alec’s mistress?
“Did ye work here before?” Leona asked.
Patrice’s smile faded with Leona’s question. “Nay, m’lady. I was betrothed to Rutger, Alec’s brother.” She looked almost pained to admit it.
Leona’s eyes grew wide with surprise. The jealousy and burgeoning hatred she felt only a heartbeat earlier rapidly turned to guilt. How awful it must have been for her, this beautiful young woman, to have been betrothed to such an awful man as Rutger Bowie. At a loss for words, she stood silent for a long moment.
“I ken what Rutger did to ye, m’lady. There be no excuse fer it. But I can tell ye that he was no’ always that way and he was never that way with me.” Her voice turned forlorn and sad. “He was good to me. He was good to me family. I ken that be hard to believe, but it be true. ’Twas no’ until that fool Donnel showed up, sportin’ tales about massive treasures to be had, that Rutger changed.”
Swiping away tears, Patrice finally looked into Leona’s eyes. “He was no longer the same then. He was no longer kind and funny or generous. I can only blame greed fer changin’ him.”
Leona went to her at once. Taking her hands in her own, she said, “I be so terribly sorry.” She could not fault Patrice for Rutger’s sins.
“I could no’ stop him. No one could, not even Alec.”
“Wheest, now,” Leona whispered, choking on her own tears. Her heart ached for this woman’s loss. There was no denying Patrice had loved Rutger and felt guilty for not being able to stop him.
“I can only hope ye’ll no’ hold against me all the horrible things Rutger did to ye and yers,” Patrice said as she swiped away more tears.
Leona knew it had taken a great deal of strength to walk into the keep and seek forgiveness. Forgiveness for crimes she had not been a party to nor committed.
Gone now were the ugly feelings of jealousy and envy. Instead, Leona felt pangs of guilt and sorrow for this woman. “There be nothin’ to fergive ye fer, Patrice. Nothin’ at all.”
After allowing her to cry it out, Leona helped dry the young woman’s tears. Pulling her in for a warm embrace, Leona patted her back.
“I thank ye kindly, m’lady,” Patrice said. “Ye’re no’ at all what I expected.”
Setting her back, Leona smiled warmly, even though she was confused. “And what were ye expectin’.”
Patrice gave a slight laugh. “I do no’ rightly ken. Mayhap I thought ye’d be a hard woman and mayhap a bit tetched, fer ye did volunteer to marry a Bowie.”
’Twas Leona’s turn to laugh. “I suspect a sane person might no’ have done the same,” she admitted. “Mayhap I am a bit tetched.” She would not admit to the true reasons for volunteering to marry Alec.
“Either way, I be glad to have ye here, mistress.”
Leona gave a wave of her hand, dismissing the formality. “Please, if we’re to be friends, call me Leona.”
Patrice nodded, then dabbed at her eyes with a tiny bit of linen. “Ye would like to be me friend?”
“Aye, I would. I fear the other womenfolk, save fer one, did no’ find me as kind as ye did.”
Patrice tilted her head and drew her brow in. “What do ye mean?”
Leona did her best to make the cold greetings seem insignificant. “Alec took me to meet the clanspeople today. I took each family a small gift. A loaf of bread. Apparently, such things are no’ done here.”
Patrice remained confused. “I fear I do no’ understand.”
Rolling her eyes, Leona released a heavy sigh. “Where I come from, we like to give gifts to those we care about. Or as a means of welcome.”
Patrice raised her hand to stop her. “Nay, I understand the reason for the gift.”
“Ye do?” Leona was surprise to hear that finally, someone understood.
“Aye,” Patrice replied with a nod. “Ye want them to like ye, ye want them to ken ye care. I would have done the same thing were I ye. What I do no’ understand is why ye say the womenfolk did no’ find ye kind?”
She had no good answer. “I do no’ ken the why of it meself,” she replied as she put her hands on her hips. “The men folk were confused, but each took me offerin’ kindly. The women, however,
they all acted as though I’d slapped them. As if I’d insulted them.”
’Twas evident by Patrice’s still knotted brow, that she did not quite understand. “That makes no sense. The women folk I ken would have accepted such an offer quite graciously.”
Leona had to giggle. “Mayhap I did no’ meet the same women ye ken?”
Either she did not understand Leona’s jest, or she chose to ignore it. “Nay, I doubt that. I fear somethin’ may be afoot here.” Patrice had the look of a puzzled woman who was trying to figure out some great mystery.
“Ye say all but one treated ye poorly. Who was that ‘one’?”
“Effie Bowie. Dougall’s wife.”
Leona saw something akin to fear flash in her new friend’s eyes. But ’twas gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Effie be me sister,” she declared.
Was that trepidation and fear Leona detected in her tone? Mayhap Leona was simply over-reacting. She was, after all, quite tired. “Och! She did no’ mention a sister,” Leona told her. “So kindness must run in yer family.”
There was no doubt in Leona’s mind that Patrice’s smile was forced. “Aye, ye could say that.”
A brief moment of silence passed before Patrice spoke again. “Would ye like me to fetch the bed clothes fer ye?” Apparently, the subject had been changed, but for what reason, Leona did not feel she should ask.
“Nay, but ye can show me where they be,” Leona replied, happy for the offer and for the chance to make a new friend.
Patrice led the way out of the gathering room and above stairs, talking all the while. “’Twas nay always this stark and empty. I fear Alec wanted no memories of the past, so he removed everything. Most of it he put in the east tower. If ye do no’ mind me sayin’, m’lady, I think he went too far. Ye can no’ even find a comfortable place to sit by the fire now.”
“I have to agree with ye,” Leona said. “Be he as stubborn as I think he be?”
Patrice laughed as she turned right at the top of the stairs. “Aye, he be just that stubborn.”
Around another corner they stepped into a long, dark corridor. Leona stopped abruptly. The corridor was far too dark for her liking or comfort. She went back around the corner, grabbed a lighted torch, and soon returned. “’Tis too dark to see,” she explained. Patrice smiled but said nothing.
The Bowie Bride: Book Two of The Mackintoshes and McLarens Page 13