“But ye will never hold a candle to what Sandra was.”
Her brother left, lost in his recollections. A chill went through her. Once more she noticed just how unbalanced Bari was. She spent so little time with him that the change was clear. Alba’s desperation became easier to understand. Her brother ignored the maids who served him, but they knew what she had only just noticed. Bari Fraser was obsessed with vengeance. Moira had grown past fearing her brother years ago, but today she had a feeling of dread because it was very possible he was going insane.
Maybe she was lucky to be wedding, because no one on Fraser land would be resting easy if the laird went mad.
***
For all the grandeur Matheson Castle seemed to have on the outside, it was pitifully lacking in bathing facilities. There was no bathhouse and only a few small wooden tubs. Fann set one up in the back part of the kitchen where it was warm and closer to the wells. The cook sent the kitchen boys away so Moira might have some privacy. Somehow, she doubted such a courtesy was extended to anyone else. The cook used one of the keys hanging from her belt to unlock a chest. She pulled out a thick bar of soap, pausing to smell it before handing it to Moira.
The moment Moira stepped out of the tub, the cook climbed in and happily applied the soap to herself. Next went her assistant. Several more tubs were filled, and it seemed every maid was taking the opportunity to bathe. Or perhaps it was more that they considered they had permission, since the soon-to-be mistress had decided it was bathing day.
Mistress… She didn’t feel like the lady of the house. The title “head of house” felt more fitting. It was clear Achaius was something of a miser. With his last wife dead, he should have elevated one of the staff to the position, but he’d held onto the coin.
Well, she was not used to being idle, so it was a blessing. She just wished it didn’t come with the duty of sharing the old laird’s bed.
It was odd, but she’d never thought much about what went on between men and women. Oh yes, she knew the names both kind and insulting. She understood the mechanics of coupling, but she had no idea of what it might feel like. Some women craved it. Many wives dreaded it.
She sighed and began to learn her way around. The hallways still looked the same to her, and soon she was trying to discover which one connected to which stairway. It was an old custom to keep the hallways identical, a last defense against the inner keep being breached. When the enemy entered, they wouldn’t know which way to go to capture the laird. Those who lived inside the walls learned to find their way with tiny details. Moira tried to focus on finding some, but she was distracted and fretting about the approaching night.
“Ye enjoyed seeing yer brother called a liar.”
Moira turned to find Gahan behind her. The man must have been leaning in one of the doorways. Behind him was the captain she’d come to recognize because he always seemed to be shadowing Gahan.
“And ye do nae deny it.” Gahan lifted a hand and waved his captain away. The man frowned, but a quick glance sent him on his way after a tug on his bonnet. His footsteps stopped just around the corner. That was all the privacy he was willing to allow his laird. Even a man such as Gahan had restrictions placed on him. No doubt his captain wasn’t willing to be the one to tell the Earl of Sutherland that his son had died on his watch.
“I am nae accustomed to being dishonest, in spite of what ye seem to think me nature is. And Bari says many things he should think on before letting past his lips.” The lengthening afternoon shadows left her no attention to give to his attempts to needle her. She was more concerned with the wedding taking place at sunset. Still, Gahan was not a man who had time to waste. Nor was he an idle person given to wasting daylight. He’d sought her out, yet he might have had her summoned. Whatever he
Her brother left, lost in his recollections. A chill went through her. Once more she noticed just how unbalanced Bari was. She spent so little time with him that the change was clear. Alba’s desperation became easier to understand. Her brother ignored the maids who served him, but they knew what she had only just noticed. Bari Fraser was obsessed with vengeance. Moira had grown past fearing her brother years ago, but today she had a feeling of dread because it was very possible he was going insane.
Maybe she was lucky to be wedding, because no one on Fraser land would be resting easy if the laird went mad.
***
For all the grandeur Matheson Castle seemed to have on the outside, it was pitifully lacking in bathing facilities. There was no bathhouse and only a few small wooden tubs. Fann set one up in the back part of the kitchen where it was warm and closer to the wells. The cook sent the kitchen boys away so Moira might have some privacy. Somehow, she doubted such a courtesy was extended to anyone else. The cook used one of the keys hanging from her belt to unlock a chest. She pulled out a thick bar of soap, pausing to smell it before handing it to Moira.
The moment Moira stepped out of the tub, the cook climbed in and happily applied the soap to herself. Next went her assistant. Several more tubs were filled, and it seemed every maid was taking the opportunity to bathe. Or perhaps it was more that they considered they had permission, since the soon-to-be mistress had decided it was bathing day.
Mistress… She didn’t feel like the lady of the house. The title “head of house” felt more fitting. It was clear Achaius was something of a miser. With his last wife dead, he should have elevated one of the staff to the position, but he’d held onto the coin.
Well, she was not used to being idle, so it was a blessing. She just wished it didn’t come with the duty of sharing the old laird’s bed.
It was odd, but she’d never thought much about what went on between men and women. Oh yes, she knew the names both kind and insulting. She understood the mechanics of coupling, but she had no idea of what it might feel like. Some women craved it. Many wives dreaded it.
She sighed and began to learn her way around. The hallways still looked the same to her, and soon she was trying to discover which one connected to which stairway. It was an old custom to keep the hallways identical, a last defense against the inner keep being breached. When the enemy entered, they wouldn’t know which way to go to capture the laird. Those who lived inside the walls learned to find their way with tiny details. Moira tried to focus on finding some, but she was distracted and fretting about the approaching night.
“Ye enjoyed seeing yer brother called a liar.”
Moira turned to find Gahan behind her. The man must have been leaning in one of the doorways. Behind him was the captain she’d come to recognize because he always seemed to be shadowing Gahan.
“And ye do nae deny it.” Gahan lifted a hand and waved his captain away. The man frowned, but a quick glance sent him on his way after a tug on his bonnet. His footsteps stopped just around the corner. That was all the privacy he was willing to allow his laird. Even a man such as Gahan had restrictions placed on him. No doubt his captain wasn’t willing to be the one to tell the Earl of Sutherland that his son had died on his watch.
“I am nae accustomed to being dishonest, in spite of what ye seem to think me nature is. And Bari says many things he should think on before letting past his lips.” The lengthening afternoon shadows left her no attention to give to his attempts to needle her. She was more concerned with the wedding taking place at sunset. Still, Gahan was not a man who had time to waste. Nor was he an idle person given to wasting daylight. He’d sought her out, yet he might have had her summoned. Whatever he
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