Chapter 19
It was raining when Meleri paused from her sewing to look toward the window and frown. “It doesn’t seem to be letting up.”
“No, milady,” Agnes said, “it is raining steady, sure enough. That does not mean it will continue to do so. The rains here can go as quickly as they come.”
Agnes returned her attention to putting a hem on Meleri’s new yellow dress, while Meleri sat across from her, sewing buttons on the bodice. For the past few minutes, she had stopped sewing to gaze out the window, observing the patterns left on the windowpanes by rivulets of running water. She could not keep her mind on anything for very long before thoughts of Robert superseded all others. The memory of being held in his arms, the power and force of his passion, the depth of emotion she saw on his face all lingered in her mind.
Whatever he felt for her, she knew it was not indifference. That measured up poorly next to the love bursting into full blossom in her own heart. Before, she felt intrigued by him, but things were different now. She was falling in love with him, and that made her vulnerable. She knew she must tread carefully. It was not a feeling she liked, nor was it one she could do anything about. Being vulnerable meant she could be hurt, and the probability of that happening with a man like Robert was greater than she liked to admit.
“There,” Agnes said, and bit the thread in two. “All done!” She glanced down at the bodice, as if searching for any buttons left undone. “Are you finished, milady?”
“No, but this is the last one.” She quickly took a few more loops with the needle and tied the knot. “All done.”
She held the dress against her and looked at herself in the mirror. “Such a lovely soft color.” She wondered what Robert would think about the dress. Did he care for this shade of yellow? Would he like it with her red hair?
“Why don’t you wear it today?”
Meleri agreed that was a grand idea and soon had the dress on. Agnes was ready with a compliment. “Milady, you look so lovely in that color.”
Meleri picked up her apron and tied it around her waist as she went downstairs. Just as she came off the last step, Robert appeared and she almost ran into him. Instinctively, his hands came up to grasp her upper arms.
“Whoa, there!” He looked her over with thorough regard, but made no comment about the way she looked. Disappointment came like a flood drowning out all her former elation. She had taken great care with her appearance, and yet he hardly seemed to notice anything.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” he said. “I will be spending most of my time working in the fields for the next several days. I leave quite early. I doubt you will be up before I go. If you should have need of me, send one of the servants to find me.”
“Oh, I did not realize you…that is, I didn’t know…”
“You didn’t know that I work?”
She immediately felt like a moron for phrasing the statement so. She knew men worked, of course, but she ignorantly assumed all landed gentry worked like her father, by spending a few hours in their study each day, going over figures, or discussing the running of their day-to-day affairs with their overseer. She blushed. “Yes, but I did not mean it to sound that way.”
“I don’t have the luxury of being the kind of earl you have in England. You might say I am a working earl. This time of year we have more work than the few men in our service can deal with. We are humble farmers. We grow and raise everything we eat on the land that surrounds us. It takes everyone working together to get it all done.”
“I find it gratifying to hear you put being sensible and pragmatic before arrogance and pride.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do. What one can do, two can do faster.”
“A good point.”
“And a valid one. I do thank you for taking the time to enlighten me as to your whereabouts. If I should have need of you, I will send for you.”
With nothing more than a curt nod, Robert left.
Meleri wondered how he could go from lovemaking to being scarcely civil in such a short period. And they said women had a changeable nature? In the end, she decided it was pointless trying to figure him out. The best idea would be to give him plenty of room and let him work things out for himself. In time, he would come to realize he needed her. Time would mark her worth. As for her, calm forbearance would be the key. She would need patience, and a great deal of it, before they both had what they wanted.
Not long after he left, she reached a decision. If her husband-to-be had to work, she was not about to loll around in lazy repose. “If he works, I will do the same,” she said to Agnes.
Agnes set to work on altering another dress, but Meleri stopped her. “Leave the sewing for now. I want you to come with me.” Meleri explained they would begin working today, telling her what they would be doing. “Although everyone had been more than kind, I know there must be those who feel some resentment toward me because I am English. I want them to see me as willing to do my part.”
“And I’ll stay here and sew.”
“I need your help, Agnes, as well as your support. No one wants to ride into battle alone.”
With a regretful look, Agnes dropped the fabric. “Where is the first battle, milady?”
“I think we should start with the great hall. Come along, Agnes. Don’t be weak at a time like this.”
Agnes closed her eyes and prayed, “Lord, help thou my forceless nature to be strong.”
“Will you stop trembling like you’ve swallowed shiver pills? Be firm. Be strong. ‘I think, therefore I am,’” she quoted. “You must act brave and you will find that you are. In the meantime, you cannot let them think you are weak.”
Agnes shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid thinking wouldn’t do me any good. I am certain they already know I have no backbone, milady. Pure gelatin, it is.”
“Then you must pretend you are made of sterner stuff than you are. Head up. Shoulders back. Stand tall. Learn to look them square in the eye when you speak. If there is anything they admire, it is courage and fortitude! We must show backbone or these Scots will run slapdash over us and make our lives miserable while they are about it.”
Agnes still had her reservations. “The cook…the one called Fiona. Have you seen how large she is? She has arms like oak limbs. She isn’t going to like our interfering.”
“Oh, fie! Fiona will not be a problem once she learns we mean her no harm. It’s the unknown that people distrust.” Seeing that Agnes looked almost ill at the thought of accompanying her, Meleri said, “Agnes Milbank! You are hopeless. I daresay you could not say boo to a goose! I would have never taken you for such a pusillanimous mouse. Where is your spirit?”
“Gone, milady.”
“Agnes, be forceful. Be spirited. You break easier than a biscuit.”
“I know, milady, I truly am sorry. I am not a brave person. My mother said I crumbled like an old ruin. I fear she was right. I was born with the heart of a chicken. Peace at any price! That is my motto.”
“Nonsense.”
“It’s true! I believe the best way to deal with aggression is to yield to it.” Agnes stopped what she was doing, then looked toward the door. She heaved a great sigh, looking so dejected Meleri had to fight back the urge to laugh. “Maybe I’ll be feeling braver by the time we get downstairs.”
Grim as a gravedigger, Agnes followed her mistress, and the two of them set off. They stopped by the kitchen and found Fiona and three young women working. The four of them immediately stopped what they were doing and turned to stare when Meleri and Agnes entered the room.
“Good morning,” Meleri said. “It’s looking like it is going to be a lovely sunny day, and very welcome after so much rain, don’t you think?”
The women looked at one another but said nothing. Meleri did not let that disturb her as she began to take mental stock of the room. She was becoming accustomed to the ways of Scots and their tendency toward silent regard.
Her first thought was, how could anyone work in a kitchen such as this? She had never seen such disarray. Why, she would not have been surprised to find a dirty sock or two, stuffed behind a pot that had boiled over.
The dried herbs hanging overhead must have been hung there during the Crusades, for they were pale and powdery, positively cracking with age. Next, her gaze traveled to the bucket of ashes sitting by the fireplace, then to the tarnished tongs and rusty grate, and lastly, to the grimy pots that hung overhead, her eyes lingering for a moment on the festoons of cobwebs that draped and ran from pot to pot. There was an appalling layer of dust, which covered everything not in use.
Fiona and the other help gaped in an openmouthed fashion as Meleri made her visual inspections, occasionally dragging a finger over a bowl, pot or a piece of crockery, to check for grime—and finding plenty. No one said a word, but Meleri did not let that bother her. “I would like you to show me around the kitchen, so I can familiarize myself with everything here.”
“Why? Was there something wrong with your breakfast?” Fiona asked.
Meleri was distracted for a moment by the long wooden table where two girls were chopping vegetables. A mound of dirty crockery almost covered the table between them. She could not help but wonder how they could work under such cluttered circumstances.
About that time, she noticed Fiona was looking at her strangely, and she realized she had asked her a question. “Wrong? Oh, no, there was nothing wrong with my breakfast. It was very good, actually. I do hope there will be time for you to show me how you made the scones. They were quite the tastiest I’ve had.”
“Then why would you want to look about the kitchen?”
Fiona’s large, flowerlike face was looking quite perplexed. “I know the castle is understaffed,” Meleri said. “If you could show us about, I am certain we can manage on our own. I will need a few things…soap, brushes, sponges and plenty of hot water.”
“You will have to speak to Effie about that.”
“Why?”
“Because Effie is the housekeeper.”
“But you are the cook and therefore the kitchen is your domain, is it not?”
“Aye, it is, but you must speak to Effie about the things you need for your bath. We’ve never had anyone take a bath in the kitchen.”
“I don’t want to take a bath.”
Fiona had a face that went beyond plain. The skin was thin and as tightly drawn as a lady’s corset. Her eyes were a lovely shade of dark gray that matched her hair, but they bulged a bit too much to be called pretty, especially when she focused them narrowly, as she did now. “If you don’t want a bath, then why would you be wanting the supplies?”
Pomp and circumstance! Was the woman always going to be so inquisitive about every little thing? She was soon to be the lady of the house, was she not? If she wanted a pear tree planted in the middle of the great hall, it should be done without any further adieu. One look at Fiona told Meleri she was settling in, like a winter storm.
She would be hard to budge.
“I want the supplies because Agnes and I wish to help with the cleaning.”
Meleri was thankful she knew how to work, having done it frequently at home. At first it had been out of boredom, but soon she found a certain amount of satisfaction in it. She turned to Agnes, who stood there looking as indecisive as a weathercock. “Let us familiarize ourselves with the kitchen, then we will move to the great hall. It is sorely in need of a thorough cleaning.”
“Waste of time,” Fiona said.
“Why is that?” Meleri asked.
“We don’t use the great hall very much.”
“You used it the evening I arrived.”
“That was a special occasion. Truth is, I do not have any help to spare, your ladyship. These girls are needed here in the kitchen to help with the evening meal.”
“I am not asking for any help, Fiona. I know you need all the help you can find. Truly, I do not know how you manage with just three girls to help you. I would not dream of taking you or your help from your duties. All I want are some cleaning supplies. If you would be so kind as to show me where I can find them, Agnes and I will do the rest.”
“In that cupboard,” she said, pointing out the location, then she returned her attention to the pot she was stirring.
“Come along, Agnes. Let us see what we can find.” Meleri walked with sure, determined steps to the cupboard and threw open the doors. She began to take stock of the things they could use—bits of flannel, a scrubbing brush with most of its boar bristles missing, half a bar of yellow soap and a broom that appeared to have been made from the missing boar bristles.
She began heaping Agnes’s arms full of the things she would need. When Agnes could hold no more, Meleri dropped the bar of soap into a bucket, then hooked it on her arm and closed the cupboard. She stopped to add some water to the bucket from the water barrel. Next, she added a couple of dips from a pot of hot water boiling over the fire.
Pushing Agnes through the door ahead of her, Meleri was soon out of the kitchen and in the great hall. Once Agnes had deposited her supplies on the long banquet table, Meleri handed her an empty bucket and the small broom. “Here. Take these and sweep out the fireplace.”
Agnes took the bucket and trudged toward the fireplace as if she were going to her own execution. However, she got into the spirit of things before long and even managed to hum a melody or two as she worked. From time to time, Meleri joined in, but for the most part, she was concentrating too hard on what she was doing to think about the words to a song. She was surprised when more hot water arrived, lugged into the room in a large cauldron by two young boys, whose names she learned were Fingal and Gowan.
“Well, Fingal and Gowan, you look like very strong, young men.”
“Aye, milady, we are the strongest in these parts.”
“That is good to hear, for I have need of a couple of strong arms to assist us.”
They dropped the cauldron with a cavernous, hollow sound that echoed throughout the empty hall and made a dash for the door. They were not fast enough, for Meleri stopped them before they made good their exit, catching each of them by the ear. “Not so fast, my laddies,” she said, guiding them back to where they’d left the cauldron.
“We are needed to muck out the stables, milady.”
“I think the mucking out of your lord’s hall is more important than his stables. Now, put some hot water in that bucket and toss in a bar of soap. I want you to scrub every stone on the floor. You may start over there, where Agnes has already swept.”
“But we are supposed to clean the stables!” Gowan wailed.
“Cleaning the hall will be much more fun, and when we are through, you will be proud to have had a hand in it. Besides, you have no choice. The earl has gone to the fields, and that leaves me in charge. Now, do as I say or I’ll pin your ears to that far wall and leave you there for everyone in the castle to see.”
They exchanged glances, and she knew they were trying to decide if she meant what she said. They grumbled to themselves a bit, whispering and looking in her direction, but in the end, they did as she asked.
It was midafternoon before Agnes swore she was starving and went to the kitchen. Meleri stayed behind to finish cleaning the chandeliers that hung over the long eating table. Once she’d removed the dust, she rubbed everything down with oil and replaced the candles. When finished, she gave the signal for Gowan to pull on the rope that would raise the huge iron chandelier back to its rightful place, below the heavily carved beams overhead. This was quite a task, since the great hall was two stories high.
Meleri and Fingal cleaned the iron candlesticks, which stood on tripod bases, and afterward, impaled new candles on the vertical spikes. Agnes returned in better spirits after her lunch and began to fill the oil lamps on tall stands that were scattered along the walls. Meleri turned to Fingal and Gowan. “Take down the paintings and stack them against the wall. When you finish, move the tapestries lying on the end of the table into the yard. Beat them carefully, until there is no more dust.”
Their next chore was to clean the ornately carved wood paneling and replace the tapestries, which were in very poor condition. Meleri thought how splendid the tapestries she had in her chest at home would look hanging here. She made a note to discuss sending for them and all the other things she’d inherited from her mother and grandmother.
When everything was cleaned to her liking, the long table was covered with white cloths, which Meleri found to be remarkably clean and in good condition—a most welcome surprise she discovered in a cupboard hidden in the paneling. Next, she carried the iron candlesticks to the table and placed all six of them in the center, at intervals of several feet. Satisfied with the way they looked, she stepped back to survey the results and found she was more than pleased. Now it was a table fit to eat upon, one she would not be humiliated to seat a guest before.
It was almost dark when they finished cleaning. As Gowan and Fingal lit the candles, Meleri and Agnes stood proudly at the end of the room to admire their work. Meleri had not realized before now what a truly magnificent hall it was. Its proportions made it fit for royalty, and the wainscoting on the walls rivaled that found in the king’s own castles. She had never realized what a difference cleaning made, but that alone would not have created such a room. It was more than apparent that in spite of what the Douglases were now, they had, at one time, been very, very rich. The next question looming large and unanswered in her mind was, What had happened to all that wealth?
“You were right, your ladyship,” Gowan said as he approached, a wide, pleasure-filled grin on his face, “this was more fun than mucking out the stables.”
“And it does make me feel proud,” Fingal said as he joined them. “You will tell the earl we helped, won’t you?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
The four of them turned at the sound of the voice to see Robert walk into the hall accompanied by Hugh and Iain and two young girls who looked identical. Robert, she noticed, was going over the room with a critical eye. “Have you had everyone in the castle working in here all day and not on their regular chores?”
Hugh, always the buffer between the two of them, laughed and said, “If she got any work out of the help around here, you ought to congratulate her. I wonder what she used to persuade them. I have never seen anyone here that was capable of getting two thoughts together, let alone completing a task to this degree. Mostly they resemble a swarm of bees without a queen.” He gave Meleri a teasing grin. “What did you do? How did you get them organized? Gram gave up two years ago and threatened never to leave her room again.” He walked around the hall, taking in all the changes. “This is remarkable.”
Meleri smiled at Hugh and gave a curtsy as she said, “Why, thank you, Hugh.”
“What about these two scoundrels?” Iain asked, indicating Gowan and Fingal. “Did you have to threaten them with severe measures?”
“She showed us what to do,” Gowan said proudly.
Fingal added, “And we did it all by ourselves. No one helped us, did they, milady?”
“Gowan and Fingal worked most diligently. We couldn’t have done it without their strong arms.”
“I hardly recognize the place,” Hugh said.
“Nor I,” Iain agreed. “It has been years since the hall looked this good. It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he said to Robert.
“Oh, yes, it’s absolutely, positively amazing.”
If he had slapped her in the face, it would not have hurt her any more than his sarcastic reply. She waited a minute longer for him to say something equally complimentary, but he never did. To hide her disappointment, she looked down at her hands and was appalled at their appearance. She put a hand to her hair, fearing she looked a fright with a kerchief that must be dusty and feathered with cobwebs and her white apron carrying a great deal of what she’d removed from the hall. Well, she told herself, there is nothing to be ashamed of. It was good, honest work, and she was every bit as proud as Gowan and Fingal for the doing of it. She lifted her head proudly.
No compliment was coming. Instead, Robert introduced her to Iain. “This is my uncle, Iain.”
“I believe we met the day you arrived, Lady Weatherby.”
“I am loath to admit I was more concerned with my own comforts than being gracious. I hope you will forgive me.”
“No need to explain,” Iain said in a manner that reflected his good nature. “I was married for several years. I also have two daughters, so I have some understanding of how the female mind works.”
“Explain it to me when you have the time,” Robert said, and everyone laughed, except Robert.
Meleri joined in the laughter, and when it was over, graced Iain with a warm, heartfelt smile. From the moment she saw the acceptance in his eyes, she was completely won over by this tall, distinguished man with eyes bluer than a robin’s egg.
Iain turned to the two young girls standing beside him. “These two bonnie lassies are my daughters, Catriona and Ciorstag.
“Twins?” she asked.
“Aye,” Iain said, “and twice the trouble. Whatever mischief they find is doubled.”
“And redoubled,” Hugh added. “They never do anything alone. Always together, aren’t you, my lassies?”
The girls went to stand on each side of Hugh and hugged him with obvious affection.
“I cannot believe girls so lovely could be a bit of trouble,” said Meleri. “What are your ages?”
They gave her a quick curtsy in unison and answered at the same time, “Twelve, milady.”
“So, now you have met everyone in the family,” Iain said.
“Yes, everyone Gram has to fret over,” Hugh added.
“That is what grandmothers do best,” Meleri replied.
Ciorstag said shyly, “Gram says a home without a grandmother is like a loch without water.”
Iain laughed. “My mother has a vested interest in her opinions. They are never wrong.”
Meleri hardly noticed when the laughter died down, for she was too busy studying Robert’s face as he looked around the hall. She thought for a second that she caught a semblance of pride in that look, and it filled her with so much warmth, she felt dizzy. But then it disappeared so quickly, she began to wonder if she had seen it at all. Well, there was one way to find out. She turned and placed her hand upon his sleeve—something that was difficult for her to do. “And what about you, milord? Does the hall meet with your approval?”
“Aye, you have done a fine day’s work,” he said, looking around. “It is something you should be proud of.”
“I am proud of all the help I had.”
Robert was studying the slight forms of Gowan and Fingal. “I am glad to see someone found a way to inspire these two ruffians to do an honest day’s work.”
“It was both honest and of long duration,” she said, giving the boys a bright smile. “I couldn’t have accomplished half so much without them.”
To Gowan and Fingal he said, “I am placing you under my lady’s direction for as long as she has need of you. You will report to her each evening for your assignments for the following day. You will be wholly devoted to her slightest whim, her every command. Whatever she asks, I expect it to be done. If it is not, you will answer to me. Is that understood?”
“Aye,” they said, grinning like the gargoyles on the parapets of the oldest wing of the castle.
Robert must have seen her troubled expression, for he said, “Does this not please you?”
“It isn’t that. There is much to be done here, and I need their help, ’tis true, but I do not wish to usurp your grandmother by being placed in charge. I am perfectly willing to work under Lady Douglas’s direction.”
“Don’t worry about my mother,” Iain said. “Although her mind is sharp, her eyesight isn’t what it once was. She also has an overwhelming tendency to catnap whenever she sits down. She has neither the inclination nor the stamina to perform such tasks as you have done today. The servants long ago realized that, and they have used her age to their advantage. What this household has needed for some time is someone younger, with a healthy Presbyterian bias against idleness.”
“I suppose I have detained you overlong,” Meleri said, “and I have much to do if I am going to appear for the evening meal looking better than I do now.”
“Lady Weatherby?” Catriona asked.
“Yes?”
“Might we, Ciorstag and myself, help you with your chores and cleaning?”
“We do not know a great deal about cleaning, milady, but we would like to learn, and we are most eager and willing,” Ciorstag added.
Meleri glanced toward Iain, who smiled at his daughters and said, “I know a little work never hurt anyone. I have long wished they had a woman closer to their age to instruct them. I would consider it a great service if you would take them under your wing.”
“I can think of nothing that would give me greater pleasure.” To the twins, she said, “I am delighted to have your help. But please, you must call me Meleri. How about we start tomorrow, right after breakfast? Do not forget to bring an apron—and wear something old. Can you do that?”
The girls looked at each other and giggled. “Aye, old is all we have,” Catriona said.