Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] by Border Wedding

next landing, Amalie looked back and stuck out her tongue, but she kept silent until they were safely inside the bedchamber they shared.
    Then she said, “What do you think of Sir Walter, Meg? I think he is very—”
    Breaking off, she shot Meg a rueful look when the door opened to admit Tetsy, the rosy-cheeked chambermaid who served them.
    Meg knew that Tetsy must have been just behind them in the stairwell, ever silent in her soft-soled slippers, and wondered how much she had overheard.
    “Her ladyship sent me,” Tetsy said. “She said ye’re to ha’ a bath and she’ll be sending hot water right up. I’m to fetch out the tub and then see to packing your clothes. Och, m’lady, she said ye be going to Rankilburn!”
    “Do you know Rankilburn, Tetsy?” Meg asked.
    “Och, nay, but it does sound gey far away,” Tetsy responded as she vigorously hauled the wooden tub from its place in a corner of the chamber. “Her ladyship did say ye be going to marry a nobleman, m’lady. But I dinna ken how that can be, when none of us ha’ heard aught about any such thing afore today.”
    Sweetly, Amalie said, “Do you doubt my lady mother’s word, Tetsy?”
    Looking horrified, Tetsy disclaimed any such doubt. “’Twas only that we usually hear straightaway if someone be getting married, and her ladyship did say ye’d be marrying your man today, Lady Meg.”
    “Do you not think that is romantic, Tetsy?” Amalie asked.
    “Don’t tease her, Amalie,” Meg said. “It is true, Tetsy, and it happened quickly. I am to marry Sir Walter Scott, the Laird of Buccleuch’s eldest son. Have you heard that name before?”
    Tetsy’s eyes widened. “Aye, sure, m’lady. Me da’ says Buccleuch be a gey fierce man. Be his son a fierce one, too?”
    “We will hope not, as the lady Meg is to marry him,” Amalie said. “Would you like to travel with her to her new home, Tetsy?”
    Tetsy’s eyes widened, and color drained from her cheeks. “Nay, mistress, I couldna go wi’ them rough, horrid men ye was speaking about.”
    More sternly, Meg said, “I asked you to stop teasing her, Amalie. Prithee, do so at once. You are not usually so unkind. Tetsy, I know you do not want to go so far from home. I have already told Sir Iagan that you would prefer to stay here.”
    “Thank ye, m’lady. If ye truly want me to go, I expect I could do it. But I’d liefer stay here wi’ me own kin.”
    “Then you shall,” Meg said, adding with a smile, “I think I hear them coming now with my water.”
    “Aye, sure,” Tetsy agreed, hurrying to open the chamber door. “That water be for ye, too, Lady Amalie. Your mam did say ye’d also want a bath.”
    “There, did I not tell you, Meggie?” Amalie crowed triumphantly.
    “That you are to take a bath hardly means you will go to Rankilburn,” Meg pointed out. “Our lady mother may not want to waste good water on just one bath.”
    “You’ll see,” Amalie said. “You’d best decide what you want to take. That tub will be full soon, and if I am to bathe after you do, I don’t want cold water.”
    Meg sighed and moved to begin making her selections, wondering as she did if her sister’s company at Rankilburn would prove to be a boon or a penance.
    In the yard, Wat finished his bath and left the water for any of his lads who wanted to use it. As he toweled himself, feminine giggles drew his attention to the postern door of the castle keep, where two lasses had apparently been watching with interest while he bathed.
    He grinned at them and finished dressing. Although someone had brushed his clothes, they still bore evidence that Elishaw’s dungeon lacked regular cleaning. A brief mental vision of his mother’s likely reaction were she able to see her firstborn son’s wedding attire drew another smile.
    Only then did it strike him that he would be taking the lass home with him. The thought of her living with him in his rustic peel tower brought a frown, but that of presenting her to