Chapter 11
Robina felt Dev’s gaze until she rounded the first curve in the stairway. Glancing back, she listened for his footsteps and was relieved to hear none. The landing for the laird’s chambers lay ahead, with her own room and Benjy’s above it.
A peek into Benjy’s room revealed only his neatly-made cot, so he had likely run outside to enjoy the improving weather and longer-lasting daylight.
The solar was above, in an angle with two chambers flanking it. The one that shared its landing had been Rab’s. The other had a half-landing two steps higher.
Above, under the ramparts, were the Greenlaws’ room and some smaller ones that shared a narrow central walkway.
Entering the solar, she found Rosalie and Janet chatting and joined them, pulling some of Benjy’s mending from the basket there before she sat down.
Reaching for a pile of multicolored fabrics on a table near the window seat, Rosalie said, “Before you begin sewing, my dear, I want you to see these fabrics. I brought things for Janet and Bella, as I always do, and I thought of you when I saw these, especially this lovely saffron-gold silk. It will make up into a splendid gown for you to wear for Beltane.”
“Mercy, madam, I cannot afford such fine goods,” Robina said, eyeing them with quiet envy.
“Faith, I bring them as gifts. One cannot make up for years of neglect—”
“But you lived in England with an English husband,” Robina protested. “Truly, madam, no one here expected you to visit us, let alone to bring gifts. I’d wager that, in those days, it could have cost you your life to come here.”
Rosalie shrugged. “I disagree, but I understand why you’d think so, living as near the line as you do.
At Elishaw, we were almost as often on the English side as the Scottish, because the line so often changed, but my mother was English, so I had cousins on both sides.
Then my brother, Simon, declared for Scotland, so Elishaw is Scottish now. ”
“Even so, madam—”
“My name is Rosalie,” she said. “If you must be formal, call me ‘cousin’ or Cousin Rosalie. ‘Madam’ always makes me think of older women like my mother,” she added with an impish grin.
As if she were not an “older woman,” herself, Robina thought, suppressing a smile as she agreed. Then, noting a twinkle in Janet’s eyes, she knew that Janet felt the same fond amusement and returned her attention to the fabrics.
“I hope you won’t be difficult about these, my dear,” Rosalie said.
“I am not so ungrateful,” Robina said. “It is just…”
“Just consider the greater likelihood of attracting suitors if you dress becomingly,” Rosalie said when she paused. “I know that Sir David agrees with me. Janet and I can help you with your hair, too.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” Robina demanded, and was instantly sorry. “Pray, forgive me, cousin. I am grateful and I welcome your advice. But—”
“But you are tired of being told what to do, aye?” Rosalie said.
“I knew the instant I mentioned Sir David that I’d taken a misstep,” she added.
“I vowed I would not do that, that I would be the soul of tact and discretion… not that I have ever attempted either virtue successfully. But one does imagine that one ought to try.”
Robina smiled then, recognizing a kindred spirit.
Dev found Benjy in the yard, playing a form of hoodman-blind with stable lads, who were all older and larger than he was. They wore hoods and were trying to capture a hoodless Benjy, who carried a string of small, noisy bells in each hand.
As Dev watched, Benjy wadded the bells in both hands, slipped silently between two of his would-be captors, and skipped away from the milling group. All of them were reaching out blindly, grabbing each other, and likely thought the boy was standing still.
Instead, he ran lightly and silently in his bare feet to the far side of the yard, where the sheepdog, Tig, lay alertly watching him.
Bending as if to pet the dog, Benjy wrapped both strings of bells around Tig’s neck.
Then, with a sweep of his arm, he sent the dog running around the group of older lads and watched with delight as they stumbled over their feet and tried to catch Tig.
Benjy saw Dev then and grinned. Motioning the dog back to him, he snatched at the bells, caught one string, and waved the dog around again with the remaining one.
Shaking the string in his hand, Benjy dashed toward the gate, away from Tig.
Half of his opponents moved toward the boy. The others followed the dog.
Then Tig rejoined him, and Benjy collected the second string and signaled for the dog to lie down again.
Dev motioned for the boy to join him.
Nodding, Benjy headed straight through the lads who were seeking him, ringing his bells as he went.
One of them—Dev thought it was Shag’s son Hobby—reached out and caught the boy’s tunic. But Benjy had untied its laces and easily slipped out of it.
“Here now, ye young deevil, that be cheating!”
“ ’Tis not; ye ha’ to catch me!” Benjy shouted back, only to run full tilt into one of the others, who held on to him.
Laughing, Benjy surrendered. “Your turn to be prey now,” he said cheerfully to his captor. “I’ll take your hood.”
“The sun has set, Benjy,” Dev said. “Time to come inside and let these lads finish any chores they have left and get to bed themselves.”
“Aye, sure,” the boy said, handing the hood back to the lad and running to Dev. “That was fun,” he said, grinning.
Ruffling his curls, Dev said, “It looked like fun, but that lad was right. You did cheat when you gave the bells to Tig.”
“I know, but our Rab said that if a man needed to catch a breath, that was one way to find time for it, if the dog would cooperate. Tig follows my signals.”
“I saw that. You and Rab have trained your dogs well, but come along now. I’m going to walk upstairs with you. I have something I want to discuss with you.”
“Are you vexed wi’ me then?”
“No, just curious about some things.”
“Tell me what they be as we walk, then.”
Dev almost told him that they should talk privately but realized that they could discuss one subject, at least. He said, “I was wondering if you might like a lad to help look after your things, the way my man, Coll, looks after me.”
“But Coll is your squire, is he not, and squires dinna look after bairns. Also, Beany said I must learn to look after me own things.”
“She is right. However, I doubt there is any rule against your having some help whilst you learn such things. You are rather old for women to be tucking you up at night, changing your bedding, and helping you dress, are you not?”
“I am that,” Benjy said with feeling. “When our Rab was here, he’d tell me stories after I was in bed,” he added with a sigh.
“He told me about great battles, and about heroes like William Wallace and the Bruce. Beany tells me tales o’ wee folk and funny things that our mam and dad or Rab used to do.
I like both sorts, but I dinna need anyone to put me to bed. I ken fine how to get m’self there.”
“I know some tales that I could tell you,” Dev said when they reached the landing outside the boy’s door and Benjy opened the door.
Turning with a grin, he said, “I’d wager you ken some good ones, too.”
“I do,” Dev said, following him in and shutting the door. “I might think of a short one now to tell before I return to Lord Buccleuch. He awaits me downstairs, likely plotting to defeat me again at chess, but there is another matter I want us to discuss first.”
“That does sound as if ye’re vexed,” Benjy said, eyeing him doubtfully.
“I’m not, I promise. In fact, the boot may be on the other foot, laddie, because I overheard something you said to his lordship.”
Benjy frowned. “What was it?”
“You said you expected that I’d leave here or die, as your mam and dad and Rab did. You were speaking to his lordship in confidence, but I kept listening. Perhaps you would liefer I had not, Benjy, but I want you to know that I mean to stay here and see that you and Robina—and Coklaw—keep safe.”
“I ken fine that ye mean that, Dev,” Benjy said solemnly. “But men dinna choose their deaths, do they, or their bounden duties.”
“That’s true,” Dev admitted. “But I promised Rab as he lay dying that I’d look after you and Coklaw, and see that you grow into a good man and a good laird.
You’re right to think of duty, and you know I owe mine to the Douglas and his grace, the King.
The likelihood of either demanding service from me right now, though, is small.
His grace is in the North, trying to tame his cousin, the Lord of the Isles, and will be there for some time.
The Douglas sent me here and expects me to keep Coklaw from the greedy English. ”
“What if you do have to fight?”
“Then I’ll arrange for my father and the Scotts to send men to look after you here. In any event, I’d like you to put your trust in me, Benjy. I don’t insist that you do so, because one has to earn trust by being trustworthy. But do think about that, will you?”
“Aye, sure, Dev. I didna ken that ye’d promised our Rab whilst he were a-dying. But if a man makes such a promise, he must keep it, aye? Did ye swear as a Borderer?”
“Aye, laddie, I did,” Dev assured him.
“Then that’s how it will be. If ye think I should have a lad to help me look after me gear, I’m willing. I dinna think Beany will mind if I tell her that I’ll learn to do it all m’self, too. So, now will you tell me a story?”
Robina spent the rest of the evening with Rosalie and Janet in the solar. Rosalie’s woman, Potter, joined them when she came to ask when her mistress wished to retire and stayed because Rosalie asked her to help them advise Robina.