Chapter 7 #6
A sudden knock at the door made her jump, but before she could answer, it burst open and several maids came in bearing a small wooden tub and buckets of steaming water.
Another followed with a tray of bread and cheese.
She smiled despite her uneasiness. After all those days and nights in the woods and on a horse it would certainly feel good to be clean again.
She had just stood from the bed when yet another girl appeared carrying fresh clothing.
“I thought you wouldn’t want to put yours back on, milady, until they could be washed.”
Ella gave her a look of genuine gratitude. To be clean after a week’s journey would be a fine thing indeed. “Thank you, fresh clothing will be wonderful. I… I’ve been travelling for quite a few days.”
“You’re most welcome.” The girl bobbed and left the room, with the other maids turning to follow her.
Alone again, Ella quickly took off her plain brown riding gown and kirtle, and sank into the warm water.
The staff of the castle, she realized, were treating her as a guest, not a…
what was she exactly, a hostage? A captive?
Had the laird told them to do so, or did they just assume?
Treacherous thoughts of all that could go wrong rushed into her mind, and the trouble she could find herself in.
She willed such thoughts away; she would need a clear head to see this through.
Someone had lit a peat fire in the hearth.
Her mind was so flustered she hadn’t even noticed, but the gentle heat of it warmed her face.
She scrubbed herself clean with the lavender scented soap they had brought, and washed her hair.
Lavender scented soap, no doubt reserved for family and esteemed guests, certainly not what the servants would use.
What were his plans for her? Would he want her to share his bed?
Surely he would never find out the truth…
Stop that, Ella! You have to keep your mind focused on what must be done!
She ate a bit of bread and cheese from the tray on the table beside her before the water cooled enough to chase her from the tub, and dried herself with a linen towel. No sooner had she put on the clean shift then the maid returned with a brush and comb, as if on cue.
“I thought you might want some help with your hair, milady.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you...” She looked nervously at the maid, still uncertain in her new surroundings, and this strange situation. But she could tell right away the girl was kind and had a good heart, and she smiled. “What is your name?”
“I’m Fiona, Milady.”
“Please, call me Ella.”
Fiona nodded and sat Ella in a chair by the hearth to begin combing out her hair where the heat from the fire would dry it.
“Tis a beautiful name, Ella. Do you mind me asking, how did you come to be… ah… staying with us? I don’t mean to pry, mind you, it’s just everyone’s a bit curious. ”
Ella almost flinched, but caught herself in time.
It was not in her nature to tell even half-truths, never mind out-right lies.
Then she smiled to herself with relief, realizing the real reason for Fiona’s question.
Gossip was coin among a household’s servants, and as the one who tended her, Fiona would have an edge on everyone else.
“Ah, well, I was travelling and was separated from my party. Your laird happened upon me in the forest on his way home, and was kind enough to bring me here until I can arrange to leave. I truly appreciate the hospitality; I’m not sure what I would have done, otherwise. ” There, that was quite truthful.
“Oh, I see. It’s lucky our laird found you, then, before you could meet with any trouble.”
Ella furrowed her brow. The girl seemed a bit disappointed by her explanation.
It was probably only that the Laird finding a lost lady was probably not the juicy tidbit the girl was hoping for.
But she couldn’t think on it now. Right now she wanted to begin her search and start turning the castle upside-down, and crawl into the bed and hide under the covers, all at the same time.
Fiona interrupted her whirling thoughts. People were forever interrupting her thoughts, she mused. Perhaps because she spent most of her time lost in thought…
“Well, your hair is dry enough. Let’s see about the gown.
Milaird was most insistent that you speak with him as soon as you’re able, and already the hour grows late.
He’ll not like to be kept waiting.” She slipped the delicate pale blue gown over Ella’s head and set about lacing the matching kirtle.
“Is the laird truly an impatient man, then? He’s not… is he ever… cruel?”
Fiona pursed her lips, considering the question.
“In some matters he’s quite impatient, aye.
I’d say he’s a hard man, and certainly without mercy when it comes to protecting what’s his, and of course he’s a fine warrior, one of the best, but no, not cruel.
” She finished dressing Ella and stepped back to look at her.
“Ah, you look lovely, ‘tis a perfect fit. Now, on with these slippers and we’ll be done.”
“Fiona?” Looking down at the fine dress, wondering where it had come from, a sudden thought occurred to her.
“Aye?”
“Is there a lady of the castle?”
She held her breath, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer. She could have sworn she saw something like uncertainty flicker across the woman’s face.
“No, it’s just the laird.”
“Why ever not? I mean, surely the laird is past an age to marry?” She knew her question was forward and bordered on rude, but she found that she was more than curious about the man who had brought her here.
In fact, she seemed to be thinking about him much more than was strictly necessary to complete her quest.
Fiona bit her lip in hesitation, but answered nonetheless. “Well, I suppose the laird doesn’t want to marry. Some men prefer to remain bachelors for all of their days. It just suits them. Or perhaps he’ll marry one day yet. He’s young, still, afterall.”
Ella sensed there was more to this story.
Servants knew everything that went on in a castle.
Gossip being coin, and all. “Aye, I suppose.” But what about an heir?
Everyone knows there must be an heir. Ella got the impression that something was not quite as it should be at Tulloch.
There was a certain tension; a subtle sadness about the place, that was palpable to her even now.
A mystery, then. Did it have anything to do with what she was to find here?
She needed to learn more; suddenly couldn’t wait to learn more.
With the slippers on her feet, and her mind still reeling from all that had happened in such a short time, making everything seem a bit like a dream, Ella was led back down the stairs and deposited in front of a closed door at one end of the Great Hall.
Fiona nodded towards the door. “The laird’s within, he’s expecting you.” The maid bobbed and then hurried away, leaving her on her own standing in front of the laird’s study. Several curious on-lookers watched her from the hall, waiting to see her go to her meeting with the laird.
Chapter 3
Ella took a moment to compose herself, self-consciously smoothing the front of her skirt. Her heart was beating faster just knowing who was waiting for her on the other side of the thick oak door. Him. She raised her hand and knocked.
“Enter!” came the brusque reply.
She lifted the heavy iron latch and slipped into the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
He turned from where he stood at the window, and her heart lurched in her chest to see him there.
God, but he was a beautiful man! Just looking at him made her breath hitch in her chest. Tall, broad-chested, and well muscled, yet graceful with it.
His hair hung loose in waves of chestnut brown, reaching just past his shoulders.
He looked fierce, and every bit the proud and powerful laird.
And yet, there was a palpable air of anger and sadness around him like a dark cloud, giving her the absurd notion that she should take him into her arms and comfort him.
Don’t be ridiculous, Ella, she chided herself.
He would certainly not welcome your comfort.
Especially not with the way he was looking at her as if she plotted to steal his gold and take his castle.
She cringed inwardly. In truth, she did not know yet whether she would be forced to steal from him, gold or otherwise.
A treasure you will want… She did not care much about gold or jewels.
What, then? This whole adventure thing could end up being more than she bargained for.
She had a sudden feeling it already was.
The laird crossed his arms across his chest and nodded to a chair near the fire.
“Be seated”, he commanded imperiously, as if they hadn’t just spent last night crowded intimately together in a tiny tent.
She lifted an eyebrow at him in silent challenge to his tone, but sat down in the ornate wooden chair he offered.
He moved slowly across the room, with a lion-like grace, until he stood over her.
His size alone was intimidating, and combined with a fierce scowl, he looked quite dangerous.
He was close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, and catch the warm masculine scent of his skin.
Her heart beat faster in her chest. Her hands trembled in her lap, and she pressed them against her thighs.
She was not afraid, no. Why then, did they tremble? He made them tremble.