Chapter 4 #3
“She is Gram’s youngest sister. She married Richard Percy, who died in Wales a few years ago.
Rosalie barely knows her two sons, because he fostered them elsewhere in England when each one turned eight.
So when he died, she returned to Scotland and stays a portion of each year with her siblings and their families. You’ll meet her at supper.”
“Before then, I should tell you that I’ve been to Hermitage for Archie Douglas,” Dev said, setting aside the towel and reaching for a pair of dry braies. “His constable there wants more men. He fears the Percys may attack Liddesdale.”
“Unlikely,” Wat said. “They seem content to raid Scotland by way of Carter’s Bar and the fells. Still, I expect Archie sent you to see if I’d provide more men for Hermitage.”
“He did,” Dev agreed, tying the cord of the braies at his hips. “He said something else, too.” He paused, reaching for the breeks that lay on the cot.
By the time he looked back, Wat’s eyes had narrowed. “What did he say?”
“That he might put one of his own men in charge at Coklaw.”
Wat was silent long enough for Dev to fasten the breeks.
“I’d wager you can guess what I think about that,” Wat said then.
“My father traded half of our Murthockston estate for half of Branxholm, and I mean to exchange the other half for the rest of it. It suits me fine to have Gledstanes at Coklaw, but I don’t want a Douglas living next to Branxholm. ”
“Likely, you’ll want one of your own people at Coklaw then.”
Wat shook his head. “Archie wouldn’t agree to that,” he said. “He’d fear that I’d want to add the Coklaw estates to mine own. I’d never do such a thing to a nine-year-old laird and a cousin at that, but—”
“What would you think of my taking that post?” Dev interjected.
Wat raised his eyebrows. “Did Archie suggest that?”
“My father did,” Dev said dryly. “He thought you might favor such a solution and that I should suggest it to Archie. But…”
He paused because Wat was nodding. “Archie might agree to that, because he won’t want to displease Ormiston. How do you feel about proposing that solution to him?”
“Damned uncomfortable,” Dev said frankly. “It isn’t that the notion lacks appeal, but my father as much as admitted that he has an ulterior motive.”
Wat grinned. “Robina? Sakes, that would suit me just fine, although…”
“… Robina is likely to hand me my head in my lap,” Dev said.
“That is what I was thinking,” Wat said.
Eyeing him warily, Dev said, “I’ve no interest yet in taking a wife.”
“No one is suggesting that we summon a priest, my lad. But if Robby could be persuaded to accept you as warden of the castle…”
“When Rab lay dying, he did make me promise to look after Robby and Benjy, and Coklaw,” Dev said, suppressing his dislike of being maneuvered into such a situation, even by Rab, his own father, and Wat.
“Certes, that’s a fine point to make with Archie,” Wat said, nodding. “I can see that it’s true, too, by your so-reluctant demeanor, and so will he.”
Dev nodded. “It is true, but I did not tell Robina.”
“You’ve seen her, then.”
“Aye, when we buried Rab and again, briefly, Sunday night on my way back to Hawick from Hermitage.”
Wat eyed him as if he expected more, but Dev wasn’t about to tell him how or where he had first seen Robina Sunday night.
Wat said, “How is she?”
“As you might expect. Rab was her twin, after all.”
“Was she glad to see you?”
“Not exactly,” Dev admitted, sitting to pull on socks and boots that felt a bit snug. Sensing Wat’s speculative gaze on him, he held his breath, waiting for him to ask why not.
“I’ll ride to Hawick with you,” Wat said at last. “If we put it to Archie together, I warrant we can persuade him that it’s the best course for all concerned.”
Feeling much relieved, Dev said, “You do have a knack for persuading others.”
“I do, aye,” Wat agreed bluntly. “Are you ready to go down? They’ll be serving supper soon, and Sym Elliot will have told Gram, Molly, and my mother that you are here. They will doubtless be at the table before us.”
Dev was ready, so the two went downstairs together and found the women waiting as Wat had predicted.
He had failed, however, to predict their response to their plan for Coklaw.
The rain having continued to pour all afternoon, Robina spent her time indoors with the housekeeper and Corinne, attending to housekeeping tasks.
Benjy escaped to the stables, declaring that he’d be “helping the lads see to the ponies.” Privately, Robina hoped the “lads,” including Jock Cranston, would recall that he was Laird of Gledstanes and Coklaw and not just a pest, getting in their way.
The three women were in the boy’s bedchamber when Mistress Greenlaw declared her belief that they had finally found all of Master Benjy’s cast-offs and mending, and added as she picked up a basket of clothing from his cot, “I do suggest, m’lady, that you consider finding a lad to look after Master Benjy’s clothing for him.
Not only because he is now the laird, but also because I found two pairs of his soiled braies, one set of netherstocks, and a good shirt under his cot. ”
Robina considered the suggestion. “ ’Tis true he has a title now,” she said. “But he should learn to look after himself and his belongings before turning those duties over to anyone else. Neither Rab nor I had personal servants before we were thirteen, Ada.”
“Ye wasna, either o’ ye, master of Coklaw yet, neither, m’lady.”
Robina glanced at Corinne, who continued to fold the garments before her as if she heard none of their exchange.
“Och, aye, she hears, as do I, but I don’t know about this, Beany. We learned to do what servants could do for us, to learn how such things should be done.”
Sending Rab a silent curse, wishing yet again that he were at hand in the flesh, to deal with Ada Greenlaw…
“My flesh lies six feet underground, lass.”
“I know, I know,” she muttered without thinking.
A hastily stifled gurgle from Corinne warned her belatedly to collect her wits just as Ada said, “I ken fine that ye ken the facts, m’lady, but that gets us nae forwarder.”
Flushing warmly, Robina realized that the housekeeper thought she had been commenting on her previous statement.
“I did not mean to be rude, Ada,” she said.
“But Benjy should learn the proper way of doing things before he orders servants of his own about. Laird though he is, he is ill-prepared for such responsibilities. However, if you or Greenlaw had someone in mind for the position…”
“I do not, m’lady,” the housekeeper said stiffly. “Nor has Greenlaw suggested such a thing. I but spoke me mind to ye.”
“And I am grateful to you for your advice and your candor,” Robina said sincerely. “Prithee do not think otherwise. I don’t know how we would get on here, Ada, without your wisdom and experience to guide us.”
Her sensitivities visibly assuaged, Mistress Greenlaw nodded. “I’ll just take this basket o’ laundry down then, so Mary and Gert can get on with it.” With that, she carried the basket in her usual stately way out of the room and down the stairs.
Exchanging a look with Corinne but making no comment and hearing none, Robina finished her portion of the folding. When she looked around to be sure they had done all they could, Corinne said to her with a grin, “Ha’ ye seen the new lad yet, mistress?”
“Which new lad?”
“That Jem Keith I told ye aboot, the one Sir David left here wi’ Jock Cranston. I dinna ken how ye’d miss seeing such a fine, strong chappie.”
“I am sure he is a good man, Corinne, but I expect Jock and Sandy have kept him busy. Also, I have been out with Master Benjy these past mornings. Prithee, finish up here and then order me a bath. After all our turning out of kists and such, I feel as if I’ve bathed in dust. If it would not shock everyone, I’d run out into the rain to get clean again. ”
“If ye did, ye’d likely see that Jem-lad,” Corrine said. “I doubt that a wee bit o’ rain worries the likes o’ him. He’s one as kens what he wants.”
Robina decided that she’d better have a look at Jem Keith if only to judge whether he should be flirting with her always flirtatious but hopefully still innocent maidservant.
It was raining harder than ever, though, so she decided she’d be wiser to see if Benjy had come in yet. If not, she would send someone to fetch him. The boy caught cold too easily to be out long in such weather.