3. Clean Floors and Moonlight
Clean Floors and Moonlight
Slopping her scrubbing brush back into the pail of filthy water, Catriona quietly cursed every MacLeod man she could think of, starting and ending with Kenneth and Niall MacLeod.
Kenneth, for sure, deserved a double curse for making her scrub the hallway by hand after mopping it. Niall also deserved two curses for inviting her here.
What did I think was going to happen? That I’d be allowed to wait on Laird MacLeod right away and tell him who I was? Did I think that he was going to agree to help me? That he’d want to help me? Ugh. I’m stupider than I ever thought.
Grimly, she scrubbed a clean little circle in the filmy layer of grime and dust that covered the hallway floor.
Soon, she’d have to go down for fresh water.
That meant going down at least two steep, winding staircases to the kitchen.
She’d go out to the courtyard to sluice the cobbles with dirty water, then off to the well to fetch more water.
Already she’d replaced the water three times, and the hall was only halfway clean.
This was Kenneth MacLeod’s punishment. A punishment for what, Catriona couldn’t exactly work out. She hadn’t done anything.
He hadn’t seemed to care, however, and it was a stupid idea to try to argue her innocence. No, better to accept her punishment and get the wretched floor clean, then at least she could say that she had done something right. It was only a floor. She’d scrubbed floors before.
Start small. Small tasks, done well. Prove yerself.
The only thing about scrubbing floors was that it was… well. It was boring.
So very, very boring.
Some might argue that the satisfaction of a well-scrubbed floor was something worth considering.
Those people had probably never scrubbed a floor in their lives.
Sitting back on her heels, Catriona let out a long sigh, stretching out the taut muscles in her back and limbs. Her neck ached, her hands throbbed, and her legs were all pins and needles, sending a stabbing pain through her calves.
I have to get up. Just for a moment.
She levered herself up, as stiff as an old woman.
Half of the hallway floor stretched out in front of her, glossy with water and shiny-clean.
The other half, drab and grimy, wound all the way along the side of the Keep.
Windows let in gray-silver moonlight, and she was fairly sure that if she glanced out of them, she’d find the moon high in the sky, the hour close to midnight.
She stretched, hauling her arms up above her head. Her eye fell on the mop in the corner, the long, splintery handle resting up against the wall. The head was barely damp, and when she lifted it, the mop was much lighter than before.
It wasn’t much heavier than John’s training staff and nearly as long. Tossing it up in the air, she caught the pole neatly in the middle. The mop head, of course, was an encumbrance, throwing off her rhythm when she spun the staff.
Pole, mop pole. Not a staff.
It would make a decent weapon, she thought, twirling it in the air and spinning in a tight circle, letting the blunt end rake through the air. A staff, John had said once, was as good a weapon as the sharpest sword if a person knew how to use it.
Or was it Da who said that?
That thought put Catriona off balance. She tripped over her own feet, stumbling, very nearly going face-first onto the grubby floor.
“Very well done. Until that last part at the end, of course. That was a little clumsy.”
She dropped the mop. It clattered across the grubby stone flags as she spun to face the intruder.
Kenneth stood in the shadow of a narrow doorway, arms folded.
Catriona wondered briefly why she hadn’t noticed the doorway before.
Was MacLeod Keep full of little doorways like this, hidden and secret?
There were probably passages everywhere, a rabbit warren of corridors running behind the walls and under the floors.
Somebody could be watching me at any moment, anywhere, she thought, and shivered.
Kenneth strode forward, leaving footprints in the glossy surface of the clean floor.
“Who taught ye how to wield a staff that way?” he inquired, voice level and revealing nothing.
She cleared her throat, tucking her hands behind her back. “Nobody. I was just… I was just swinging it around.”
“Don’t take me for a fool, lass. I know skill when I see it. Can ye use a sword as skilfully?”
Catriona bit her lip. “My father taught me how to defend myself. He said it was a useful skill.”
“Clever man. Does my cousin know how skillful ye are?”
“How could he? We met in a market.”
Kenneth seemed to accept this, nodding slowly. He advanced to within several feet of her, staring at her as if trying to see right into her head. She forced herself to return his gaze and waited. He’d let her know what he wanted soon enough.
“For all he’s a flirt, it’s not like my cousin to bring a woman into the Keep,” Kenneth murmured, almost to himself. “What’s so special about ye? Are ye secretly wed, or something?”
She reddened. “What? Of course not!”
“Nay, he’d not defy his father like that. Not yet, at least,” Kenneth murmured, drawing his fingertips over the stubble on his cheeks. “But he’s got a fancy for ye, that’s clear.”
“He’ll tire of me soon enough, no doubt. There’s nothing like a wee bit of scrubbing to make a person properly unappealing.”
The corner of Kenneth’s mouth twitched, as though he was biting back a laugh.
“Ye want to stay here, aye? Ye want to earn coin for yer family?”
She lifted her chin. “I believe I’ve made that clear.”
“And Niall likes ye.”
“He does not,” she insisted. “We met only once. Truly, I believe yer cousin is only showing a wee bit of charity to a woman he thought needed help.”
Kenneth inspected her thoughtfully. She held his gaze, waiting. Slowly, his eyes slid over her shoulder to the glossy hallway floor.
“I’ve never seen it look so clean,” he remarked. “Ye can certainly work.”
“When I have a task to complete, I put my strength into it.”
He smiled at that, a thin twist of his lips. “Then ye are exactly the type of woman I am searching for. I need ye to keep my cousin occupied. I’ll give ye three times as much coin as ye would receive in yer duties here if ye work for me.”
Catriona groped for words. She took a step forward, frowning. “Where’s the catch?”
“The catch, as ye put it, is that ye will work for me, as I said. I’ll let ye know what I want of ye, and when. Nothing distasteful,” he added hastily. “But it goes without saying that ye will tell no one, no one at all, of our arrangement. Least of all Niall.”
“What do ye want me to do, then? Why do ye want yer cousin watched or kept busy?”
“That’s no concern of yers. I am not about to lay out my plans now and let ye wait to decide if ye want a part of it. Are ye in, lass, or are ye out? The choice is yers. I’ll not ask ye again.”
She blinked, absorbing his words. Kenneth waited patiently for her response. Silence ticked out between them. From somewhere in the depths of the Keep, laughter drifted along a hallway, fading away almost as quickly as it had come.
The noise made Kenneth flinch, turning to glare at nothing in particular.
“It’s too late for decent folks to be roaming the halls,” he muttered.
Catriona stayed silent, not bothering to point out that they were roaming the halls. Their eyes met, and she knew it was time to make a decision. Niall’s face appeared in her mind, with that wide, lopsided grin and those bright, flashing eyes. She swallowed hard.
I don’t owe him anything. He’ll forget me before the week passes. No matter what passing fancy made him invite me here, it means nothing. I have to take care of myself.
“I want a favor,” she said at last.
His eyebrows flickered. “A favor? What favor?”
She gave a tight grin, tilting her head. “Ye won’t tell me yer plans, so I won’t tell ye mine. A favor. That’s what I want.”
“Instead of the coin?”
“As well as coin. Are ye willing to haggle with me on this?”
He pursed his lips. “Ye will get twice as much pay as another servant in the Keep. Enough for yer parents. How does that sound?”
“Done.”
Almost without thinking, Catriona stuck out a hand, frankly and plainly, just like John did when striking a bargain. Kenneth hesitated, but just for an instant. He took her hand in his, his fingers cold as ice against hers.
“Beware of my cousin,” he said shortly, catching her gaze and holding it. “He’s charming and seems almost harmless. But he’s no fool, and he’s much cleverer than ye might think. Remember who ye work for here, lass.”
He released her hand abruptly, letting her arm fall. Turning on his heel, he strode away down the hallway, his footsteps almost noiseless.
“I’d get busy if I were ye,” he called back over his shoulder. “If ye want to be finished by daybreak, that is. Sukie’ll put ye to work first thing, and she won’t like it if ye aren’t finished with this hallway by the time the real chores begin.”
Catriona bit into the side of her cheek. She briefly considered lobbing the scrubbing brush at Kenneth’s head. With an effort, she contained herself.
Next time, maybe.
“Vegetables,” the cook instructed, shoving a massive, empty basket into Catriona’s arms. “Radishes, potatoes, onions. Leeks, carrots, turnips, of course, and maybe a few parsnips. Not too many, parsnips add bitterness to a dish. Fill up the basket and I’ll tell ye if ye have to go back for more.”
Catriona staggered backwards, blowing upwards to dislodge a lock of hair sticking to her sweaty forehead.
“I… I’ve not eaten. It’s past midday and I’ve not eaten a bite since yesterday.”
The cook was a brawny woman with a round, red face and flat eyes like a fish. She glowered unpleasantly at Catriona.
“Poor wee lassie. Hungry, are we? Shall I whip ye up a wee pie? Cut off a slice of the Laird’s roast beef for ye to eat? Keep back the new, good bread for ye to have with butter and dripping?”
Catriona reddened. “That’s not what I meant.”