Chapter 10
Dev and Wat Scott had gone outside to talk about wellspring blockages. As they discussed the various problems and possibilities, Dev glanced around the yard and realized that he had not seen Benjy since their visitors’ arrival.
Nor did he see him now, but as his gaze met Sandy’s, the older man made a slight gesture.
Following it, Dev saw the boy sitting in the shadow of the stable’s overhanging thatch, leaning against the wall with the shaggy dog Tig’s head resting on his lap.
At first, Dev thought that both boy and dog were asleep, but when one of the stable lads strode past them to the nearby trough with a pail, Benjy turned his head to watch.
“Sakes,” Wat said, “is that young Benjy? I saw him just before Christmas, and I vow he was but half that size then.”
“He’s nine and growing fast,” Dev said, catching Benjy’s gaze and motioning for him to join them.
Pushing Tig aside, Benjy scrambled to his feet and ran to them. “I didna want to interrupt you,” he said with a smile. “Me stomach’s starting to growl, though, so I’m thinking we may be nearing suppertime.”
“Make your greeting to his lordship, Benjy, or do you not remember him?”
“Aye, I remember,” Benjy said, looking up at Wat and extending his hand for him to shake. “You’re the Lord o’ Buccleuch and Rankilburn, sir. I saw you arrive, but I wasna sure what to do wi’ so many visitors, so I thought I’d best keep out o’ the way.”
Resting a hand on the boy’s nearer shoulder, Dev said, “You acted wisely, laddie. Mayhap you will also prefer to eat your supper in the lower hall.”
Benjy looked up at him with wide eyes. “Are ye vexed wi’ me, then?”
“No, no, I just thought you might liefer sup with some of the younger lads.”
“I’m the laird, and Buccleuch and them others be my guests, aye?”
“That is true,” Dev said, ignoring Wat’s smile. “However, if you will recall—”
“—that ye stand in me place till I’m grown, aye. But ye did say ye’d teach me how to go on, so I should sup wi’ me guests and learn whilst they’re here, aye?”
Wat bit his lower lip. His eyes danced with merriment.
Continuing to ignore him, Dev met the boy’s solemn gaze and said, “You are right, Benjy. His lordship will sit at my right hand, and you may sit at his.”
“Good,” Benjy said, nodding. “Will we go in now?”
“Shortly,” Dev said. “You might want to go up to your chamber first to brush your hair and wash your face.”
As they watched him run off, Wat chuckled and said, “That one may prove to be more of a handful than Robby.”
“I doubt it,” Dev said. “He is much less likely to defy me or to challenge every word I say.”
“Does she do that?”
Aware that he had spoken as bluntly and impulsively as he had learned he could safely do over his years of friendship with Wat, Dev called himself to order but said honestly, “She has not yet defied me, exactly. But she has declared that she means to choose her own path, and she frequently challenges me.”
“That does not surprise me, but you make me feel blessed,” Wat said. “My sisters rarely challenge me. In fact, only one person at the Hall states her own mind with regularity and the supreme confidence that she can do so with impunity.”
“Lady Meg,” Dev said with an appreciative smile.
“Aye, Gram always says what she thinks, although to give her her due, she is usually right when she disputes my opinions. Even so, she has accustomed herself to the fact that I’ve stepped into my father’s shoes and mean to fill them.”
“Always?”
“Mostly,” Wat said, grinning. “She does tend to support nobles who dislike his grace’s notion of instituting a rule of law throughout the land,” he added as his grin faded.
“Not that she thinks they’re right, but she does say that after Jamie Stewart’s long captivity in England, he should have waited to get on friendlier terms with his nobles before deciding to impose English notions of law on all of Scotland. ”
Dev raised his eyebrows. “What do you think about that?”
“We Scotts have always supported the rightful King, and I support Jamie,” Wat said quietly.
“I don’t mean to alter that position, and Gram knows it.
We do agree that all Scots should be able to cross a nobleman’s land when they must without fearing that their ignorance of his private laws might see them hanged. ”
“I believe that, too,” Dev said. “I also agree with Lady Meg and my father that his grace ought not to impose new notions on us without due discussion. If he dismisses his supporters’ concerns, he may one day find himself with no supporters.”
They continued to talk while they walked inside. As they crossed the hall toward the dais, still chatting, movement on the dais drew Dev’s notice.
Corinne stood at the ladies’ end of the high table, alone.
“Who’s the pretty, dark-haired wench?” Wat asked him.
“Robina’s personal maidservant, Corinne,” Dev said. “Robby doesn’t change for supper, and Corinne has been sitting with us at meals, but…”
Corinne smiled uneasily as the two men stepped onto the dais.
“Is aught amiss?” Dev asked as he moved to his customary place.
“Nay, sir,” Corinne said, relaxing and smiling in her usual cheerful way as she looked from him to Wat and back again.
“Her ladyship were still in the solar wi’ her cousins, and I didna like to interrupt them to ask if I should eat in the kitchen or here wi’ her.
So I thought I’d wait here and ask her.”
Dev started to tell her that Robina would not need her but said instead, “I suspect that she may not need you, Corinne. But you should ask her.”
Corinne’s eyes twinkled, and her smile grew mischievous. “Just what I thought m’self, sir,” she said.
Beside him, Wat made an odd sound in his throat, but Dev ignored it.
Entering the great hall to see Corinne flirting with Dev and Wat Scott, Robina hesitated in the archway, causing Lady Rosalie and Janet nearly to bump into her.
Hastily begging their pardon, she strode forward, intending to tell Corinne what she thought of such behavior.
Really, the woman was soaring above herself!
Over the noise of people in the lower hall taking their places at the trestle tables, she heard from just over her right shoulder, “Wheesht now! You’re jealous again. You must know that as well as I do.”
“I am not!” she retorted indignantly, turning her head toward the voice.
“What’s that you say, Robina?” Lady Rosalie asked. “In troth, my ears must be failing me, for I could not detach your words from the other chatter here.”
But Dev was smiling at Corinne. And Corinne’s cheeky smile was one that no maidservant should bestow on the master of the castle.
Robina gritted her teeth.
“Robina?”
Startled, she turned to Lady Rosalie and said ruefully, “Forgive me, cousin. I was thinking aloud. Prithee, blame not your ears but my bad manners. Janet, when we reach the table, Cousin Rosalie will sit next to me and you will sit by her. But I’ve not asked yet how long you can stay. Must you leave when his lordship does?”
“Wat means to leave in the morning. I wish I could stay longer, though.”
Robina grinned. “I’d love it if you could. Coklaw and Rankilburn are near enough that I think we should see each other much more often than we do.”
“ ’Tis a good notion, that,” Rosalie said, evidently overhearing their exchange easily enough. “You can help me furbish Robina up, Jannie. You have excellent taste yourself, and I expect you know the haberdasher in Hawick.”
“Aye, sure,” Janet said. “The mercer, too. Do you need furbishing, Robina?”
“Evidently,” Robina said dryly, casting another look at Dev and Corinne.
Wat nudged Dev and murmured, “Your primary charge is shooting arrows at you with her eyes, my lad. Have you done aught to deserve them?”
Following Wat’s gaze, Dev saw the three ladies approaching the dais but saw naught in Robby’s demeanor to justify such a description.
Then she looked right at him. Her eyes flashed angrily.
Glancing at Corinne, he noted with relief that she had not heard Wat’s comment. Her attention had riveted itself to the approaching women.
With a wary glance at Dev, she moved hastily past him to meet them.
“Well, my lad?” Wat said. “What did you do?”
“Nowt of which I’m aware,” Dev said. “She does have a temper, though.”
“That much I do know,” Wat said dryly. “Nevertheless, I’ve staked my gelt on you,” he added as he turned with a smile to speak to his grandaunt.
Behind Wat and Rosalie, and Lady Janet, who stood now beside Rosalie, Dev saw Robina talking to Corinne. Corinne’s face was scarlet. She shook her head.
Rosalie moved past Wat then to greet Dev.
Smiling, he said, “I thank you for coming, madam. I hope they have made you comfortable.”
“Potter will have everything in hand, sir,” she said. Gesturing toward the plump, gray-haired woman stepping onto the dais in a blue gown and houppelande, she added, “There she is now. I trust you won’t mind if she sups with us. I like to keep her nearby.”
“Then it will be as you wish,” Dev said, noting that Benjy had run into the hall and was heading at speed for the dais.
“As you will see if you look yonder, you are also to be blessed with our young laird’s presence.
He reminded me that I’d promised to show him how a laird must behave.
Quite a task, you’ll admit, for one who is not, himself, a laird. ”
“You are now,” she reminded him.
“In essence, aye,” he agreed, shifting his gaze to Janet, whose air of easy dignity as she greeted him reminded him of Wat’s lovely wife, Molly.
With luminous blue eyes and hair the pale yellow of bedding straw, Janet would soon be drawing a host of suitors if she was not doing so already.
As Lady Rosalie moved to stand behind the back-stool next to the one at his left, he said, “Pray, take your place beside me, madam.”
“That is kind of you, sir, but—” Catching his direct gaze, she said, “Thank you, sir,” and stepped to the nearer seat. Then, however, and firmly, she said to Janet, “Leave the one by me for Robina, dearling.”