Chapter 5 #2
“Do you understand why ’tis that way now?
” When she nodded Elspeth studied her face.
“Very well, I’m satisfied you see what you did wrong.
You shall go to Lady Grace this morn and ask her forgiveness.
Mayhap you should bend a knee as well. Should she find such in her heart to offer you, then from this day forth you may work with me tending to the chambers. ”
After falling so far Una had never expected such kindness, especially from Elspeth.
“Did the lady bid you offer me thus as a jest?” she demanded. “Shall she clout me tonight and shout to everyone in the hall that she shall never forgive me? Or shall the whole of the clan and the household gather to laugh at me whilst I kneel and apologize?”
“’Tis a terrible thing, no’ to be sure of how you’ll be treated by those around you,” the chambermaid said softly.
“To be caught up in the schemes of others without awareness of such, ’tis even worse.
I ken such only too well, Una, for ’tis been my lot since first I came to Dun Talamh.
I should never do the same to another, even you. ”
The fact that Elspeth was speaking of how she had been widely treated since coming to Dun Talamh only made Una hang her head. It seemed she had been taught another lesson, one that would likely keep her awake all night sobbing. Still, it was better than being tricked in front of the other maids.
“Then that wisdom, ’tis learned. I shall return to the stables.” She bobbed the most respectful curtsey she could manage. “My thanks for teaching me again what I didnae ken before now.”
“Wait, lass. Wait.” The dark-skinned girl came and took hold of her hands. “I sincerely meant what I offered you just now. I shall go with you to speak with Lady Grace, and I am sure she will forgive you. ’Tisnae a trick. ’Tis why I made that the condition for you to come work with me.”
“You dinnae like me,” she reminded her, looking away from her kind eyes as shame filled her.
“I’ve taunted you for being different from the rest of the maids.
I tried to force you to help me by threatening to turn all the other vassals against you.
You must delight in seeing me like this, humbled and without any friends. Why should you show me mercy?”
Elspeth glanced down at their joined hands. “Mayhap ’tis that I ken what you suffer better than you reckon. Since the night of the binding ceremony near all the other maids avoid me. Many look upon me as if I smell of the stables.” She gave her a wry look. “I’ve no one to talk to, either.”
Una took in a breath that made her chest hurt. “You’ve your husbands, dinnae you?”
The chambermaid shook her head. “We’re no’ married. I reckon I’ll wait another year until the next ceremony, for I dinnae wish anyone to speak ill of me and my loves.”
Una thought of her empty pallet, and the sly faces of the stable lads who liked most to pester her. “At least you have them.”
“I cannae bring myself to love them,” Elspeth said.
“Being named a hoor because we’re no’ wed, ’tis unbearable to me.
I dinnae ken how to love two men, either.
What if I’m no’ enough for my husbands? What if I lose them because of such?
I hardly sleep anymore for worrying. There, now you ken what I’ve no’ the spine to speak of to any other. ”
“I shall tell no one.” Una didn’t know why she hugged the chambermaid; she only held onto her as she choked back a sob, and said, “I vow, I shall serve you well. You’ll go with me to Lady Grace?”
“Aye.” Elspeth patted her back. “But first, come to my chamber. I’ve filled a tub with rose water, and I shall fetch a clean gown for you to wear after you bathe proper.”
After asking a guard to direct her to the great hall, Esme took in more of the castle on her way there.
The interior didn’t have much in the way of wall decorations, although she saw some wood carvings on the doors, and here and there collections of weapons mounted on brackets.
The latter seemed more like backup for the clan rather than décor.
Just before she reached the hall she spotted a chambermaid unlike any she had seen until now.
The dark-skinned young woman looked about as Scottish as she did, and yet dressed like all the other maids.
She was carrying a bundle of clothing. Assuming she was from the modern world, Esme waved to catch her attention before rushing downstairs.
“Good morning,” she said to the maid, who smiled back at her. “My name is Esme. Are you and I the only brown girls in this place?”
“Aye, my lady.” The chambermaid bobbed. “I’m Elspeth. You came from enslaved parents like me?”
“Oh, no, manita. My parents were free, and so was I.” She’d never thought of how lucky she’d been to be born in a modern time until this moment. “Are you having breakfast? Could you come and talk with me?”
“I’d be willing, only I’m aiding another maid in need of help.” Elspeth nodded toward the tables in the adjoining room. “Go and find a seat, my lady, at the table on the dais. You’ll find the other ladies from your time there.”
Esme wanted to tag-tail after the maid, but that would be cowardly.
Straightening her shoulders, she walked into the hall as if she did that every morning.
Most of the hundred or so clansmen and all of the girls serving them looked at her as she made her way through the tables, but no one showed anything but interest. Being the only brown-skinned person in the room did make her stand out, but at least no one was sneering at her or chasing her out.
What would it have been like to live in their time, like Elspeth? She’d have to ask where she could find the girl later.
At the other end of the room Ava stood talking with Grace and another woman by a table on the raised platform.
The woman Esme didn’t recognize was a slender girl with ordinary features but the most beautiful chestnut hair she had ever seen.
She gave her a warm smile as she walked over to meet the trio.
“Good morning, Ms. Martinez,” the woman said, extending her arm. “I’m Olivia Gibson, Alec McKeran’s wife, from Salinas. I’ve been following your articles in Monterey Today for years. You’re a wonderful writer.”
“Thank you, and please, call me Esme.” She shook her hand. “Would you have some time to talk to me later? I’d like to interview all the people from my time while I’m here, so I can take their stories back with me.”
“Of course.” Olivia glanced at Ava before she said, “The thing is, ah, you do realize that you may never, ah…”
“Leave this place, sure. Agent Travars gave me the bad news.” She spread her hands. “You never know, maybe I’m the one who can find the way out of here. Either way I’ll do whatever I can to help. What do we outsiders do here, anyway?”
“Why don’t you have some breakfast first?” the laird’s wife suggested. “Then we can put you to work.”
Joining Ava and Grace, she sat down beside Olivia and surveyed the unusual foods that had been set out on the table.
Fruit and cheese had been mounded on platters beside rounded oat cakes and sliced bread loaves, and a small vat of porridge laced with cream and berries steamed by a stack of smaller bowls.
Several crocks held butter, honey and a variety of jams.
“If you’d prefer something more substantial, I can have one of the maids bring a platter of sausage and smoked fish,” Ava said. “The ladies and I don’t eat much in the way of meat. There’s also a kind of vegetable soup called pottage that the clan enjoys.”
“What, no breakfast burritos?” As the former FBI agent chuckled, Esme made a face. “Honestly, I usually have a pack of breakfast cookies, or drink a smoothie if I’m in a hurry.”
“We have no cows here, but the milk and cream pans refill themselves every morning,” Ava said.
“If you don’t mind a limited variety of fruit, Doon can probably come up with a reasonable substitute for smoothies.
” She held up one of the oat cakes. “These are our breakfast cookies. They’re pretty good, too. ”
Esme ended up trying a little of everything, and discovered the food was all delicious. “I think I’m going to weigh two hundred pounds by next month.”
“We don’t seem to gain weight here,” Olivia mentioned.
“I’m still trying to figure out how to make yogurt without a starter,” Grace put in. “I love it, and I used to make it myself when I lived in New York. But what did people do before there was starter? Someone had to make the first batch, right?”
“Do you have lemons or vinegar?” Esme asked.
When the supermodel nodded, she said, “Add one of them to boiled milk to curdle it into curds, then use the curds as your starter.” As she saw the other women gaping at her she grinned.
“My abuela was the best cook in the world. She also made Mexican yogurt and fruit drinks at home for me, and she always made her own starter.”
“I love you,” the supermodel said with a reverent note in her voice now. “If you ever need anything, come and see me first.”
“So you’re the pushover. Good to know.” She sipped her brew, which was a pleasant floral tea with spicy notes. “Once you make the yogurt, share some with me. I still miss those drinks.”