Chapter 7
The two aunties, as Laura had begun to think of them, had seen to it that Laura had enough dresses to wear during the day, since she only had a small amount of clothing with her.
Now she was being helped to dress by a very pretty but extremely frosty maid who answered only when she was spoken to, and then only in monosyllables.
Laura was becoming accustomed to this kind of treatment and had learned to ignore it: she would be gone soon and then all of it would be nothing but a bad memory.
She was both looking forward to leaving and dreading it at the same time, since she knew that leaving little Andrew would cause her immense pain, but it would have to be done. She had no means of feeding him, and no permanent place to stay; what kind of life was that for a helpless little infant?
No, she would have to harden her heart and leave him in a safe place where he would be well taken care of.
No doubt she would be condemned for being horrible, heartless and selfish, but there was nothing she could do about that.
Anyway, she was never likely to see any of these people again, so what did it matter?
But it did matter. It mattered very much indeed.
She had developed a genuine fondness for Charlotte and the aunties, and although she still found Kenneth a little intimidating, she recognised that he was a good man.
He was completely devoted to his wife, and in Laura’s eyes that was the best quality he possessed.
Her feelings for a certain green-eyed captain, though, were less clear. On a personal level she disliked Nicholas, although he had redeemed himself slightly by his obvious affection for the baby, but she was still smarting with rage at the words he had spoken to her.
However, she could not deny the physical reaction he provoked every time she saw him. If only he had treated her with more respect she might have considered submitting to him, but not now; now the main passion he evoked in her was anger.
The maid was putting the last pin in Laura’s chestnut hair when there was a soft knock at the door, and the young woman opened it to admit Eleanor.
“Good morning, Laura!” she said happily, with a wide smile. “You look very pretty today.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Laura answered, returning her smile. “Good morning to you too. I thought I would see you at breakfast.”
“Nella is already out on the grounds,” Eleanor told her. “So I thought you might like to come for a little walk with me and have a picnic breakfast in the garden. It’s a lovely day and we have not really had a chance to talk alone.”
“What a splendid idea!” Laura was enchanted.
Eleanor took her arm and they went to the kitchen to collect a picnic basket then strolled out into the sunlit garden.
It was a riot of bright colour, since all the spring wildflowers were in full bloom, filling the air with a fresh invigorating floral scent.
Laura breathed in great lungfuls of it, thinking that this must be what freedom smelled like. She loved it, it made her feel, for a single foolish moment, as if she wanted to fly. Then she dismissed the foolish thought; she was obviously being influenced by the flighty notions of the two aunties.
“The wild flowers are allowed to run riot here,” Eleanor said.
“Nella told me that before she came the gardeners used to pull them up, calling them weeds, and she was horrified. She soon put a stop to that, so now the bluebells, poppies, buttercups, crocuses and all the other blossoms grow freely wherever they please.”
“I can just imagine her doing that,” Laura remarked, laughing.
“Yes, she is a force of nature, especially when she is angry!” Eleanor said. “We are like sisters to each other.”
“Indeed you are,” Laura agreed. “Kindred spirits.”
“What do you think of Scotland so far?” Eleanor asked suddenly.
“Though I’ve not had the most pleasant of experiences with its people yet, I think it’s one of the loveliest places I’ve ever seen,” Laura answered, smiling as she looked around at the trees, flowers, and the fountain which had a statue of a unicorn standing beside it.
Beyond the castle walls she could see the distant mountains under puffy white clouds. “It’s so wild and untamed.”
“Indeed, quite unlike London,” Eleanor remarked, following her gaze.
“Yet London does have a beauty of its own, but I am a Scot, and in my humble opinion this is the loveliest place on earth.” Her smile was heartfelt and beautiful to behold, and Laura wished she could feel the same way about her own home, but it was not a place she could think of with any fondness—only with loathing.
Eleanor guided them to a grassy spot underneath an apple tree and they set out the food from the basket and leaned against the tree trunk as they ate.
“How is baby Andrew?” Eleanor asked, watching as Laura’s face lit up.
“He is doing very well,” Laura answered.
“He seems very content, and Maisie is a wonderful wet nurse. I only wish I could feed him myself. I feel like such a failure.” As she said the words, Laura realised that she meant them: she was not lying.
If she had been Andrew’s real mother he would be starving by now.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Laura,” Eleanor said soothingly.
“The same thing happened to me, yet my children thrived and grew up to be fine people. You have been under a lot of stress, but you have done the right thing and allowed us to help you. You have done everything you could, and you are a very good mother.”
‘If only you knew the truth,’ Laura thought, feeling wretched that she was deceiving this generous, good-natured woman. Aloud, she said: “Thank you, my lady. You are so kind.”
They chatted amiably for a while longer, and Eleanor told Laura the story of how she and Fenella had secured Charlotte and Kenneth’s marriage.
“It’s like a story from a romantic novel,” Laura said dreamily. “Almost unbelievably romantic!”
“Indeed, except that the story is true,” Eleanor said, smiling happily. “Now, I think we must go and meet Nella. I bet I know where we can find her.”
They strolled along to the courtyard where the guards were practising their battle skills and found Fenella watching them avidly as she nursed a glass of wine. She looked up as she heard them approaching and smiled.
“Good morning, ladies!” she said happily. “I was just given a present of this lovely bottle of burgundy, so please have a glass with me.”
“Is it not a little early in the morning for that?” Laura asked doubtfully.
“Well, it’s not something I do every day,” Fenella replied, shrugging. She poured out two glasses for them and immediately turned her attention back to the two strapping young men who were engaged in a bare-knuckled boxing match.
“I am simply enjoying the view,” she said wickedly, with a lewd wink that made Laura giggle. Charlotte had warned her that the aunties were as naughty as two young schoolgirls, but she had not realised just how mischievous they were!
She settled down to watch the action, and was soon engrossed by the sight of the two masculine bodies glistening with sweat as their rippling muscles flexed and bunched as they strained to win the fight.
At last one of them prevailed, knocking his opponent over with an uppercut under the chin.
The young man landed on his backside and cried out in painful protest, but a moment later his adversary helped him to his feet, and the two men embraced, laughing.
“I will never understand that,” Laura said, shaking her head in puzzlement. “A moment ago they were knocking lumps out of each other, but now look at them. They are the best of friends!”
Eleanor and Fenella burst out laughing. “Do not try to understand men, Laura,” Fenella advised. “I sometimes wonder if they are different animals to us. Are we even the same species?”
Eleanor took a sip of her wine and raised her hand to point a forefinger at one of the men. “Look, there’s our mighty Captain!” she said excitedly. “Oooh, does he not look like a god? Apollo, perhaps?”
As she gazed at him, Laura had to admit that he did. He was still wearing his tunic, but as she watched, he stripped it off along with his shirt, leaving himself bare to the waist. Laura was mesmerised: he was utterly magnificent.
His shoulders were broad, his arms powerfully muscled, his chest wide and flat, dusted with dark hair that ran in a narrow line down his abdomen between rows of tiny rippling muscles, to disappear underneath his kilt.
Laura could see the bulging muscles of his calves flexing as he strode towards them, and she realised suddenly that no woman could possibly forget being bedded by a man like this.
Indeed, her body was responding to the sight of him already, as she felt a sweet throbbing between her legs, accompanied by a fierce tingling. She almost wished she could throw herself at him right there and then.
Fenella suddenly clapped her hands. “I have an idea!” she said excitedly. “Let’s each choose a champion to fight against another, the winner is the one still standing at the end.”
“What is his prize?” Laura asked. “Surely they must have a reward?”
“The glory of winning and our eternal adoration, of course!” Eleanor answered. “That is priceless. And you can give him a little kiss if you wish!”
Fenella raised her eyebrows at that. “Careful, Ellie,” she warned. “They might kill each other for one of those!”
Fenella stood up and clapped her hands to attract the attention of the men, all of whom stopped what they were doing and turned to face her. Some were already grinning since when Mistress Fenella spoke, it usually ended in laughter.