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Beloved Ruins, Book 1

Page 9

by Marti Talbott


  “Me? Married?”

  “Why not?” Elena asked. “You deserve happiness the same as any lad.”

  “Well, I confess I have considered it a time or two. If I were to marry, I would first wish her to be without complaint.”

  Elena giggled. “Now there’s a high measure no lass can ever reach. You ask too much. Besides, you are so busy constantly, finding a wife shall not happen unless she finds you.”

  “You can marry me,” Little Brenna said.

  “Once you are grown, you shall want a much younger husband, but I thank you for the offer,” Balric said. He tenderly touched the side of his niece’s cheek and then continued eating. He turned his attention back to Michael. “Have you any lasses who are without complaint?”

  Elena giggled. “My brother, who cannae be bothered to do it himself, wishes you to find him a wife.”

  When Balric nodded, Michael chuckled. “I shall do as best I can.”

  THE SUN WAS HIGH IN the sky and the weather was clear when Master Balric stood beside Michael just outside the castle and rang his hand bell. People in the courtyard paused to see what was happening, and then most of the men scattered.

  “The lads are a bit reluctant,” he said to Michael.

  “Aye, and not so very good at obeyin’.”

  “Yet, commanding them to learn would only make them rebel. We must give them a good reason to come.”

  When the castle door opened behind them, both men turned to watch as Grizel came out. “Where are you off to?” Michael asked.

  “I promised to help Lindsey.” She ignored the perplexed look on his face, walked down the side of the castle and disappeared around the corner.

  To Master Balric’s amazement, the men had begun to come back into the courtyard, quite possibly to get another look at Grizel. Not willing to miss the perfect opportunity, he vigorously rang his bell again. No sooner had he done that, than the men seemed to have far more important things to do.

  Michael heavily sighed. “I shall talk to them.”

  “Very well. I believe I shall have another look around.”

  Michael nodded, took the first path then the second and third, paused to speak to each man as he encountered them, and discovered each fully believed he had an acceptable excuse for not learning the dreaded language of the English. Michael disagreed, but he took Master Balric’s advice and did not demand they attend.

  When he came to a place where one of the ancient cottages had been torn down, he spotted Elena sitting in the grass, surrounded by tall grass, wildflowers and children. With her were children who were normally playing a game of chase, dolls, or warriors, but were now quietly sitting and listening to her. Among them sat Kester with Birdie sound asleep next to her.

  Michael found himself drawn to Elena’s story and saw no reason not to, so he crossed his feet at the ankle, and sat down not far from Kester. A moment later, little Samuel crawled into his lap. To his delight, two other children scooted close enough to sit next to him as well. Just as it had been the night before when she sang to her children, Elena’s voice was soft, her storytelling was nothing short of mesmerizing, and he found the way she began to teach the words in English brilliant.

  Elena had a rather square face. She was not the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but Michael could certainly see what her husband saw in her. She seemed far too young to be the mother of two and to already be a widow. He was saddened by her loss, but it did not look like it had dampened her spirits any. One thing was for sure, she had a way with children, and he already admired her for it.

  RORY’S POSITION AS second in command required him to ride out and check on the shepherds, the herdsmen, and the needs of the clan’s farmers. On a good day with pleasant weather, he often managed to come back early so he could see Lindsey. That’s where he was when Michael walked down the path toward the river. He did not fear Michael. They grew up together and had been best friends for years. Yet he did respect his laird and when he approached the river where Michael stood, and saw the frown on his face, he assumed he had done something wrong. “What?”

  “You do not wish to learn English?’

  “Was that today?” Rory asked.

  “Today, tomorrow and every day.”

  “I see. I had not heard that.”

  “How very odd, ‘twas you I sent to alert the other lads. Would you come if Lindsey came?”

  “I would, but she will not come. I already asked her.” No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he realized his mistake and bit his lower lip. He knelt down, picked up a pebble, and skipped it clear across the water in the river.

  Michael smiled in spite of himself. “I wish to make a request of you.”

  “What?”

  “Now that we have guests, I am in need for more lasses to help with the cookin’ and the cleanin’. As well, Grizel wishes a maid of her own to care for her.”

  Rory’s mouth dropped. “Which Grizel? We have three named Grizel, last I counted, although two are under the age of ten.”

  “The one that has taken up residence in the castle.”

  “Ah, that one. I had not counted her. She wishes a maid?”

  “Is that not what I said?”

  Rory scratched the side of his head. “I believe so. What has this to do with me?”

  “I am in need of your suggestions – but before you answer, Master Balric wishes to take a wife.”

  Rory stiffly squared his shoulder. “He cannae have Lindsey.”

  “Indeed not,” Michael agreed. “Yet, he wishes for a wife that dinna complain.”

  “Even Lindsey complains.”

  “About what?”

  “Me, mostly. She says I am a bother.”

  “Are you?” Michael asked.

  “I try, but I cannae stay away from her. Love is a curse.”

  “So I have heard. Forgive me, but I know not how to help you.”

  “Of course not, you have never been in love.”

  Michael stared at the trees across the water for a moment. One of the trees had obviously been hit by lightning and had since died. Scant few leaves still grew on a lower limb. “Shall you help me find a lass?”

  “Tell me again. You wish to employ a lass willin’ to be maid to Grizel. She must be unmarried and not prone to complainin’? Michael, ‘twould be easier to steal the king’s crown.”

  “True, but as you know everyone well, who better to find her than you? When you do, bring her to me.”

  Rory scratched his head again. “Well, there is Mona. She is...”

  “Do you see that tree?” Michael interrupted.

  “Aye, what about it.”

  “If we had a bridge over the river, we could walk across and cut it down before it falls.”

  “Aye we could, but are we not to build a shop instead? There are only so many suitable stones in Scotland, you are aware.”

  “The land across the road is untilled yet. I expect we shall find ample rocks there.”

  Rory always knew how to touch Michael’s soft spot. “But first we build the shop so Lindsey dinna have to go to market?”

  Michael’s shoulders slumped a little. “Aye, first we build the shop.”

  GRIZEL WAS NOT PARTICULARLY interested in making mosaic after all, or so Lindsey discovered. The potter made a slab of clay for her guest, but after Grizel pressed a few pieces of broken pottery into the clay, she seemed to lose interest. Instead, she sat on the tree stump and talked while Lindsey continued to work.

  “I have yet to see a sailin’ ship,” Lindsey confessed. “Are they very big?”

  Grizel looked around for something to compare it to. “Aye, as big as half the castle, I wager.”

  Lindsey’s mouth dropped open. It was still open when Murran walked down the path toward her. He could not have built a new leg for the table so soon, and indeed, he had nothing in his hand as he walked right past her. Even so, he did look at her. She was so captivated; she did not notice how much longer he looked at Grizel. St
ill taken aback by his sudden notice of her, Lindsey ignored the next two men who walked down her path, although that was an odd occurrence too. “Have you sailed on a ship,” she asked, finally remembering their conversation.

  “I have not. I hoped to, but...”

  “But what?”

  “Tell me about Michael,” Grizel asked instead.

  “He is the son of many MacGreagor lairds.”

  “Why has he not taken a wife?”

  Lindsey dipped her fingers in her bowl of water, and then began to add a new row of clay to the top of the cooking pot she was making. “I know not. Perhaps he has not yet seen a lass who pleases him.”

  “What must a lass do to please him?”

  “Do?” a puzzled Lindsey asked. “I have always heard love comes in its own good time.”

  “I suppose it does, but first a lass must draw a lad’s attention.”

  Lindsey watched two more men walk down the path. They carried fishing poles, but both looked at Grizel longer than was necessary, even after they got to the river. “I suspect you have already drawn the attention of every lad in our clan. Yet you fancy Michael, although you have only just met him?”

  “Do you not agree he is handsome and very strong?”

  For a moment, Lindsey looked a little confused. “Aye, he is strong and he is handsome as well, I suppose.”

  “Do you fancy Michael?”

  Lindsey found the question surprising. “Why do you ask that?”

  “I was just wonderin’.” She waited, but Lindsey gave no answer.

  “Are you not going to finish your mosaic?”

  “Perhaps tomorrow,” Grizel said as she got up. “It must be near time for supper, and I am hungry.” She nodded to Lindsey, left her feeble attempt at mosaic behind, and headed for the castle.

  After she was gone, Lindsey took the six pottery pieces out of the mosaic, rolled up the clay, and put it back in her bowl. She wet a towel, spread it over the bowl and hoped Grizel would come back. It was nice to have someone to talk to, even if Kester thought the woman was trouble. Grizel asked the strangest questions, but Lindsey saw nothing evil in her.

  Grizel did not come back the next day, or the day after and the odd assortment of men stopped walking down her path.

  CHAPTER 6

  MURRAN’S SHOP WAS A small room attached to the outside of his cottage. Once he finished repairing Lindsey’s table, he took the necessary measurements for building Master Balric’s slanted desk, chose the wood, and cut the pieces in his small shop. After that, it made more sense to put it together in the room Master Balric had chosen.

  The bedchambers on the second floor were set about with Michael on the end, Master Balric next to him and the room Balric chose as his study was the one opposite Grizel’s. There was a third floor with more bedchambers, but the guests had been shown to these and no one complained.

  Naturally, there were occasions when Murran met Grizel in the hallway, and for a time, neither of them spoke. However, the day came when just as he was about to walk past, she gently took hold of his forearm. Murran stopped and stared long into her eyes.

  “I fancy walkin’ of a night,” she whispered as she lightly stroked his bare arm. “Perhaps you might walk with me?”

  He looked down at what she was doing, looked back in eyes that easily betrayed her meaning, and nodded.

  AS HAD BECOME HER HABIT, Grizel slept late the next morning.

  “Never have I known a lass that needed more sleep than Grizel,” said Master Balric, as Michael and his other guests sat down to their noon meal. “I wonder what keeps her up at night.”

  “Perhaps she reads,” Elena offered, dishing food into bowls for her children.

  “Aye, but we have no books,” said Michael. “Perhaps she is accustomed to sleeping late and cannae break the habit.”

  “You mean she cannae fall asleep at a usual time?” asked Master Balric. “‘Tis possible, I suppose.”

  “Shall I ask her?” Elena volunteered.

  “Nay,” Michael answered, “‘tis not ours to know. I am hopin’ her guard shall return shortly to tell us she is no longer in danger. The clan is all in uproar with her here. Have you not noticed?”

  Balric helped himself to a bowl of stew. “I have not, but I do not get out much.”

  “They are all in uproar because she trifles with the men, and she cares not which ones,” Elena whispered. “The wives do not trust...” She stopped talking when the dining hall door opened and Grizel came in.

  Grizel took her usual place next to Michael, turned her sweet smile to him, and then began to serve herself.

  “Are you to be with Lindsey again today?” Michael asked.

  “Why do you ask?”

  Michael answered, “I only wish to know how to find you, should your guard return.”

  “Aye, Osgar. I dinna expect him to return for a fortnight, at least. He has far to travel.”

  “Why did he go away?” Master Balric asked.

  This time Grizel turned her sickening sweet smile on the teacher. “To see if ‘tis safe for me to return home.”

  “I had forgotten that part,” said Balric.

  Grizel turned back to Michael. “I hear there is a very fine waterfall not far from here. Shall you not show me where it is?”

  “‘Tis on the other side of the river, and without a bridge, ‘tis a considerable ride,” Michael answered.

  “I would not mind,” Grizel flirted.

  “I would,” said Michael. “I’ve much to do.”

  “Perhaps another day, then.” She quickly turned her attention to the only other woman in the room. “Elena, how do the lessons go?”

  “Very well,” Elena answered. “Why do you not join us?”

  “I fear I have little interest in it.”

  Elena couldn’t help but grin. “Truly? Michael shall be there.”

  “You are learnin’ English, Michael?” Grizel asked. “How clever of you.”

  “Then you shall come too?” Elena asked despite the look of desperation on Michael’s face.

  “I am afraid not,” said Grizel, “I simply dinna care to learn.” If she heard Michael’s slight sigh of relief, she ignored it.

  WITHOUT GRIZEL TO SLOW him down, Osgar made it back to the Dalldon Castle in record time. In his satchel, he carried proper clothing for each occasion, and quickly changed out of the peasant clothing into something a little more fitting of his station in life. Then, on an equally dark night and in the same small rowboat he used when he helped Laird Dalldon’s daughter escape, Osgar rowed toward the back of the Castle.

  This time when Osgar approached the castle, he did not bother to be quiet. Instead, he let his oars splash, and loudly whistled the same familiar tune he always did when he came late at night seeking a warm place to sleep and a good meal. He had no desire to wake the laird, but he was even more determined not to be impaled by an arrow shot from the nearest tower. He could see a guard standing on the ledge watching him, but he wasn’t worried.

  “Who goes there?” the guard asked as soon as the small boat struck the side of the ledge.

  “You know very well who,” Osgar returned. In the glow of a candle the guard kept lit on a table beside him, there was just enough light out to see Barra’s smile. He handed the rope to him and then waited until the boat was secured. “Help me out, lad, or I shall see you hung.”

  Barra chuckled. “And you shall be the one to hang with me, no doubt. Laird Dalldon is in a foul mood lately.” He reached out his hand, pulled Osgar up, and then made sure he got his balance before he let go. “Tis good to see you again. Where have you got off to this time.”

  Osgar handed a cloth sack full of groceries to Barra, and then brushed imaginary dirt off his long, puffed shirt sleeve. “Laird Dalldon sent me to tell the king all is well. Unfortunately, the king has already heard the marriage did not take place.”

  “The king heard right.”

  “Who helped her?”

  “I suspect i
t was Brock, but he denies it.” The guard huffed. He pulled the strings of the sack apart and looked inside. “For us, I sincerely hope.”

  “Abominable the way Dalldon fails to feed you properly.”

  “It is indeed.” Barra closed the bag and set it aside. “You boast of no particular fair maidens this time?”

  “Two to be exact, but I grew tired of them.”

  “Do you not always?”

  Osgar chuckled. “Is Tam still awake?”

  The guard lowered his gaze. “Laird Dalldon blames his son for Seona’s escape. Tam is in the dungeon.”

  Osgar was genuinely shaken by the news. “I came as soon as I heard about Seona, but for the Laird to blame Tam is unthinkable. I shall speak to Laird Dalldon on the subject in the mornin’.”

  “If you dare,” said the guard. “He nearly had my head just this mornin’. He still cannae discover how she got away and blames us all for it.”

  Osgar leaned a little closer. “Might I see Tam...he yet lives, does he not?”

  “Aye, he lives, but I cannae let him out. I hope to keep my head, such as it is, for a few more years yet.”

  “I only wish to see for myself that he lives. Look the other way and no one shall be the wiser.” He smiled when at length, the guard turned his back to him. Osgar quickly grabbed a candle off the table, opened the door, and then hurried down the bottom staircase. He was unnerved when two rats scurried down the dark and dingy stairs, but he continued his descent just the same.

  “Tam?”

  “Osgar?” a voice across the room answered. “Get me out of here.”

  “I cannae – not just yet. Are you well, lad?”

  “Well? I hardly call bein’ cold and hungry well. Can you not bribe Barra to bring me more food? I fear I shall soon starve to death.”

  “I shall see to it.” Osgar made his way across the stone floor and then held his candle up so he could see Tam’s face. “She is safe,” he whispered.

  Tam nodded.

  “What would you have me do?”

 

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