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A Highland Pearl (Highland Treasures Book 1)

Page 3

by Taylor, Brenda B.


  Nellie curtsied. “I’ll be leaving you now.”

  “Thank you, Nellie. You’re verra kind.” Maidie smiled at the young woman. The maid returned her smile with dimples showing on each rosy cheek. Maidie thought Nellie to be very pretty.

  Nellie opened the door, but turned around before leaving. “Will you come to see about Alan on the morrow? He’s resting in our bed, but I would feel so much better if you would have another look at his wounds.”

  “Certainly. Come early and show me to your chamber.” How could Maidie deny a request from such a kind and gentle maid who was concerned about her husband?

  Chapter Three

  “Mam!” Sven pushed past Nellie and rushed into Maidie’s arms.

  She gave her son a hug and kiss to the forehead. “Did you have a good time with Phillip?”

  “Yes, and Sir Gavin let me ride a horse all the way to town.” Excitement rang in the lad’s voice.

  “But you dinna ken how to ride a horse.” Maidie held her son at arm’s length and looked into his green eyes. He had the same red hair and freckles of his father and favored him so, Maidie could not help but hug the lad again, holding him close. Her heart cried for Kenneth and his arms around her.

  “Sir Gavin showed me how. We rode slow because of Randal being in the ox cart.”

  Maidie buried her head on Sven’s shoulder. Tears welled in her eyes as the pent-up emotions of the day burst forth. “Oh Sven. Oh Sven,” was all she could say.

  He stroked her hair. “It’s all right, Mam. I didn’t get hurt. Sir Gavin is real kind.” Sven pushed away to look into her eyes. “And he likes Flora. He gave her a kiss when he started to leave and didn’t ken I was watching.”

  Maidie’s breath caught in her throat. She suspected Flora had a beau, but had no idea the man was Gavin Munro. What was Flora thinking? The tanist’s reputation as a playboy was well known throughout the region. He had been seen with several of the local lasses, including widows of warriors killed fighting for the clan. One young lass, Shirley, claimed Gavin as father of her son. After she was found pregnant with no husband, a marriage had been arranged with a young man named Fergus, but the villagers knew the tanist to be the bairn’s father.

  “That will be a secret between us. Dinna tell anyone else what you saw.” Maidie knew Sven would keep the secret as well as a small boy could. Sometimes he forgot and told things he shouldn’t, but mayhap he would forget the incident soon enough.

  Sven shook his red head. “I’ll nae tell. You can be sure.”

  Maidie kissed a freckle on the tip of her son’s turned up nose. “Be sure you dinna tell Phillip.” Sven shook his head again. “Now come ‘tis time for your bath. The water should still be warm enough.”

  Maidie rose and led Sven to the tub. She felt the tepid water and decided to add more from the kettle beside the fire. She helped Sven undress and step into the bath. The lad looked thinner with his ribs more visible. Sven needed more meat in his diet, but she didn’t know how or where to get it. She would have to help him hunt for hares and other small animals they could kill with stones and a small dirk. Someday when Sven was older, she would buy him a bow and have one of the local men teach him to use it.

  Maidie washed her son’s body and hair with the sweet smelling soap.

  “I dinna like that soap, Mam. It smells like roses,” Sven complained.

  “Well, ‘tis all we have. You must use it. Wanna hurt you to smell like roses for a while. ‘Tis better than smelling like a dirty boy.”

  A frown broke across the wee mouth. “Ugh! I hate the smell of roses.”

  “Stop complaining. You’re getting a nice bath and a wonderful bed to sleep in. Be thankful, Sven. We wanna always have these comforts.” Maidie poured water from the kettle over the his head to rinse it. She helped him rise from the tub, step out, and dry with a towel. “I hate you have to put on these same dirty clothes. Mayhap there is a nightshirt or some other sleeping garment in the chest.”

  Maidie left Sven wrapped in the towel, went to the chest, and opened the lid. Inside lay the prettiest light blue silk gown she had ever seen. The neck was outlined in small pearls and beads of a darker blue. She dared not unfold the gown or bother the beautiful garment in any way, so she closed the chest just as a knock sounded on the door. Maidie opened the door a small way to see who knocked. She didn’t want a cold draft of air to come in on Sven. Nellie stood outside in the hallway with a bundle of clothing in her arms.

  “Madam, I have a nightshirt for the lad, and fresh clothing for the two of you to wear on the morrow.”

  Maidie opened the door to take the bundle from her. “Thank you so verra much, Nellie.”

  “If the madam will give me the soiled clothing, I will take it to the laundry.”

  “Come inside Nellie, and close the door. I dinna want Sven to get chilled,” she said turning back into the chamber so Nellie could pass and close the door.

  Nellie took up the bundle of soiled clothes while Maidie put the clean clothing in a chair and dressed Sven in the clean nightshirt. She toweled the wet head one more time, led the lad to the large bed, and helped him into it.

  “Anything else, Madam?” Nellie asked before leaving.

  “Have you seen Laird Andrew recently?”

  “Yes, Madam. I served his mon some soup just now.”

  “How does the laird fair?”

  “About the same. He moans, but doesn’t open his eyes.” Nellie curtseyed and left with the bundle of soiled clothing, closing the heavy door quietly behind her.

  Maidie climbed into the large bed beside Sven. The lad was already asleep. He, too, had a busy day. She dropped into the dúnn mattress that must have taken the efforts of a hundred geese to produce. Her head sank into the soft pillow. Her eyes began to close, then popped open with a thought of Andrew. She must check on him one last time. Rising from the bed, she donned the heavy robe, and slipped her feet into the soft fur slippers, relishing in the luxury. Her hair was dry, falling about her shoulders and into her eyes, but she didn’t know where to look for a ribbon and Nellie took her kertch. She pushed a lock from her face, pulled it back with her hands, and hoped it would stay out of the way.

  With one last check on Sven, she quietly left the room and made her way down the cold passage to Andrew’s chamber door.

  Maidie passed the door between her bedchamber and the chief’s. She heard a squeak and turned around. Gavin stood beside the open door. He bowed low, then moved forward to stand over her. She clutched at her robe, pulling it tighter. The tanist had washed and donned clean clothing. He made a handsome picture in tight trews covering powerful legs from the waist to his feet. A saffron léine billowing at the sleeves and secured around the waist by a wide leather belt lay opened at the neck to expose his hair-roughened chest. Fine-tooled leather brogans covered his large feet, and a leather thong held his thick hair in place. Heat flashed across Maidie’s face at the sight of him standing so closely. She ducked her head.

  “And why is such a wee lass roaming this dark, cold passage so late?” he asked with his mouth close to her face, and the smell of whisky on his breath.

  She looked up into a shadowed face. “I wish to see about the chief one last time before retiring.”

  Maidie heard a movement behind her and turned to see a cloaked figure press against a wall. Gavin looked over her shoulder. “You best be getting on with your duties then.” He grabbed her arm, pulling her toward Andrew’s chamber, opened the door, and pushed her inside. Bowing once again, he said, “Good night, Madam,” then closed the door.

  Maidie stood for a moment staring at the door. What intrigue went on inside Fàrdach Castle? She didn’t want to know, and turned to look around the chief’s chamber. The bed curtains were drawn except for one opened toward the gille’s chair beside the fire. The chamber had a chill even with the fire blazing in the fireplace. The young man rose to his feet and bowed low when she approached.

  Maidie felt Andrew’s forehead still hot with f
ever. She picked up the rag in the bowl of water that sat on a table beside the bed, shook the excess of cool water from it, and began the process of bathing his face. The scar across his left cheek, now almost hidden by shadowy stubble, looked dark instead of pale. More pink color tinted his high cheekbones. If only the fever would break, she would feel better. Andrew moaned. Maidie wet the rag and moved it along his arms and chest. The fine, strong muscles felt more relaxed instead of taut with pain. Dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks then opened. Maidie stopped the bathing.

  Silver eyes stared at her. “Dinna stop. Your touch feels cool to my hot skin.”

  Relief that he spoke gripped her and she hurriedly wet the rag. His eyes closed again, while she bathed his face. He smiled. She passed the cloth over his neck, arms and chest several more times, rewetting it often. He seemed to doze, so she put it back in the water and stood beside the bed, thinking she should return to Sven and leave the laird with his servant.

  “Would you give me a drink of water?” he whispered.

  A pitcher of water sat next to a pewter cup on the table. She hurriedly poured water into the cup. The gille moved to help, but she shook her head and he paused. Maidie gently raised the laird’s head and with the other hand held the cup to his dry, cracked lips. He drank several sips, then she lowered his head to the pillow. His dark hair fanned across the white pillowcase. She smoothed it with her hand. His body had been washed, but not his hair. Blood and dirt still caked the shoulder length locks. She would see to its cleaning on the morrow, but not tonight. She must return to Sven.

  Maidie returned the cup to the table and then stood beside the bed for a while. The laird’s eyes were closed, so she spoke softly, “I must leave you in the care of your mon now, and return to my son.”

  A large hand reached out. She clasped it in her own. “Thank you for coming to my aid.”

  She squeezed the hand. “My pleasure to serve you, M’Laird. ‘Tis my prayer that you get well soon, to lead your people once more.”

  “Thank you.” He returned the squeeze. She rested his hand on the bed and turned to leave. “Come back to me soon.”

  “Aye.” She turned away from the bed. The gille reached the door before her and opened it, bowing low as she departed. “What’s your name?”

  “Colin, Madam.” He flashed a broad smile in her direction.

  “Colin, come for me if he changes for the worse or his fever gets higher. Keep bathing him in the cool water.”

  “Yes, Madam,” the gille answered and then closed the door.

  Maidie made her way along the passage. She passed Gavin’s door and paused when she heard his deep voice within. He laughed and then a woman’s giggle came from the chamber. So the castle intrigue is lustful in nature. One of Gavin’s trysts was taking place right under the nose of his stricken brother. Shameful. Maidie wondered if the female were Flora. Surely her friend would not leave Phillip alone at night to meet her lover.

  Maidie rushed on, opened the door to her chamber, and entered quietly so as not to wake Sven. The lad slept soundly, tired from the day’s activities. She felt exhaustion and hurriedly removed the robe and slippers to climb into bed. She remembered her prayers and slipped out of bed onto her knees. The floor felt cold, but she said a prayer for the wounded, especially Andrew. Dear Lord in the highest heaven, heal Laird Andrew’s wound and renew his strength.

  Sven whimpered so Maidie climbed back into bed and snuggled close to her son. She wrapped her arms around him, then drifted to sleep.

  ***

  A knock sounded on the door. Maidie opened her eyes to sunlight streaming into the chamber from its one window. The leaded glass of the windowpane bent the sun’s rays into a rainbow of color across the bed. She couldn’t linger to enjoy the beauty but sprang to her feet, donned the robe and slippers, and hurried to open the door. Nellie stood in the doorway with her hands full of folded clothing. A bright colorful kertch topped the pile.

  “Your clothes, Madam. May I come in and help you dress for the day? Comb your hair?”

  “No, Nellie. Sven’s still asleep. He had such a hard day, last, that I want him to rest. I’ll take our clothes.” Nellie held the bundle out to Maidie. “Where did this kertch come from?”

  “Master Gavin sent it. He said you needed one made of Munro tartan.” Nellie smiled.

  “Where is my Cameron kertch?” Maidie searched through the neat pile of clean smelling clothing.

  “Sir Gavin took your kertch. He said he wanted to use it. He needs a bright target.” Nellie’s mouth widened to show straight white teeth. Her dimples deepened. “Shall I go fetch it for you?”

  “No. Let Sir Gavin have it. It will be of little use when he finishes with it.” She looked into Nellie’s dimpled face and could not help but return the maid’s infectious smile. Let Gavin have fun at her expense. She didn’t care, or maybe she did. “How is Alan this morning?”

  “He’s up and about, Madam. I tried to get him to stay in bed, but had no luck. He’s a stubborn mon.” A frown formed on the young woman’s face.

  “Most men are, Nellie. I would like to check his wound after I tend the laird. Where might I find him?”

  “He’s out in the training field with Sir Gavin and the other warriors.” The maid’s hands fisted, then released and twisted the material of her skirt.

  “What!” Maidie couldn’t imagine the young man being able to participate in any kind of rigorous training activity with such a deep wound on his leg.

  “Angus looked at him early this morn and said he could resume his daily tasks.” Nellie’s eyes brimmed with tears. “His leg hurt awfully bad.”

  Maidie couldn’t stand the sight of the young wife’s tears. “I want you to show me the place where they train when I finish tending Laird Andrew. I’ll judge when Alan is ready to resume regular activities. After all, Angus put me in charge of him.”

  “Yes, Madam. I’ll be going now, and will be in the kitchen when you need me.” Nellie nodded, turned and walked down the hallway.

  Maidie watched until the maidservant descended the stairway. She felt the heat of anger rising in her face. Her hands shook the bundle of clothing. Angus might be the cause of Alan losing his leg if infection set into the wound.

  “Mam,” Sven called to Maidie. She turned to see him sitting on the side of the bed. “I want my clothes.”

  “I have them here,” she said, taking the bundle to the bed and placing it near Sven.

  She took her son in her arms and gave him a big hug. If she had her way, he would never know wounds from fighting. She helped Sven to the floor, slipped the nightshirt over his head, and dressed him in clean clothing.

  “Go see what you can spot from the window while I dress.” She patted Sven’s back and aimed him in the direction of the window. “Keep your eyes outside and tell me what you see.”

  He rushed to the window, placing his hands on the sill. “I see a small goldfinch and a flock of sparrows.” He didn’t say more, but stared quietly out of the leaded glass pane.

  Maidie hurried with her dressing. “Is that all?”

  “I see the clansmen training for battle.” His voice held the eagerness of excitement.

  Maidie hurried to the window. Beyond the castle bailey on a grassy knoll, the warriors engaged in training exercises. Some rode horses and threw spears at stuffed targets. Several pair swung claymores at each other. Two sets wrestled in hand-to-hand combat. A small group shot arrows at a wooden target. Maidie could see bright fabric attached to the middle of the target. One she recognized as Gavin, sent an arrow flying directly to the kertch. Those standing around him laughed. She could hear the guffaws and felt the heat of anger rise to her face for the second time that morn. Of all things, Gavin did as he said and used her Cameron kertch for a target.

  “Come away from the window, Sven. You dinna need to be watching the men in training.” She grabbed her son by the arm.

  “But I want to watch, Mam. I like to see the warriors train for batt
le.” Sven tried to look over his shoulder, but Maidie pulled on his arm.

  “I need to see about Laird Andrew and you must come with me,” she insisted.

  Sven followed with a pout on his face. A knock sounded on the chamber door. Maidie opened it with her free hand. She kept Sven’s arm secure with the other. Davina, dressed in a plain, navy woolen skirt, white linen blouse, and embroidered tunic, stood in the doorway. She looked very pretty with her long, dark hair secured with a blue silk ribbon.

  “Please come to see about Andrew. He isn’t well this morn.” Davina’s voice and eyes pleaded.

  “I am on my way to his chamber.” Sven tried to break away from her grip. She turned to give him a blazing stare.

  “Please hurry.” Davina sounded desperate.

  Maidie followed Davina down the hallway with Sven in tow. Davina opened Andrew’s chamber door and motioned for Maidie to enter before her. Sven pulled back.

  “I’ll take Sven to play with Effie and Dan in the kitchen while you care for my brother.” Davina took Sven’s hand and led him away. The lad left with a smile and a much happier step.

  Chapter Four

  Maidie nodded to the servant standing beside Andrew’s bed. He moved so she could get closer to her patient. The laird’s cheeks had the pallor of death once more. He didn’t move, not even to bat an eyelash. Maidie put her ear to his chest. She could barely hear a heartbeat. Panic rose in her heart. She jerked the comforter back to examine the wound. The bandages had a small stain of blood, but nothing excessive. She ran her fingers over his chest and neck. Maybe she missed something—a wound that now bled. His body felt warm with fever still. The injury may be inside his body, and she could do naught about such a one. She would have to watch him die if that were true. She examined his fine, strong legs, but didn’t remove the cloth wrapped through his legs. No blood stained the cloth. Maidie turned her attention to his arms. Three small gashes lay on the upper right arm, the one facing the fireplace. She must have missed the cuts, and stooped to take a closer look. They were regular, made with a sharp dirk.

 

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