Chapter Seven #5
Brodick nodded as he swept the room with a firm glance. He paused at each maid before eying the men. When they had all returned his nod he moved across the chamber to her.
“I do see the value in some traditions. Now the matter is proven truly.” He stroked a hand across her cheek, tenderness flickering in his eyes. It vanished almost as quickly as his fingers finished stroking her face.
“Wife.”
He strode from the chamber without another word. Her throat felt tight as if a hand was squeezing it. She had to force her next breath down to her lungs.
“Men. They bluster but don’t know what to do when presented with solid evidence. Never ye fear, mistress, the lord is pleased with ye. He’ll remember to say so later, once he knows that his men have been shown the proof of yer consummation.”
“I shall hope they are satisfied.”
Helen patted her shoulder. “I suppose ye dinnae ken the way it is in Scotland but knowing that the lord took ye to his bed will keep any trouble from arising among those that want to steal ye.”
Anne stared at Helen but heard a few smothered sounds from the maids that sounded like laughter. “You must be mistaken. No one steals other humans.”
One of the maids did laugh outright. She tried to catch herself but her cheeks turned ruby. “Beg pardon, mistress.”
She didn’t sound contrite. The other girls grinned at her as well. Helen sighed.
“Well now, ye might as well share with the mistress since ye all but spit it out. Vanora here was born on McAlister land. They don’t like their daughters marring McJames men so her husband snuck her away by the harvest moon.”
“I see.” Anne stared at the girl but she winked, clearly content with her lot.
Ginny tried to take the sheet but Helen shook her head. She returned to smiling. She even hummed some springtime melody.
“Nay. I pulled the covers back, so the sheet is mine to hang from the window.” She offered Anne a firm look.
“There will be no gossip. I’ll lay my hand on the altar and swear to yer purity myself.
Every one of these maids comes from family that has served this house for generations. I selected them carefully.”
Pride rang in her voice but it also shone from the faces of each girl.
It was the same at Warwickshire. Even in the face of Philipa’s sour personality, the staff was loyal.
Their parents had served the Stanford nobles and the generations before them.
It was an honor that even a surly mistress could not drive them away from.
To argue against your place was to question God’s will in putting you there.
The shutters were opened wide, fresh air sweeping into the chamber.
It took the scent of candle wax away, leaving the first traces of spring.
It also carried the smell of Brodick’s skin away.
She’d never noticed that men smelled attractive.
Yet Brodick did. Lifting one hand, she found a trace of it lingering on her skin.
Her passage was sore, marking where he’d been.
It was a moment she’d been raised to think of as sinful, yet it felt very right. As though she had been made for him.
“I told ye that ye’d be lamenting sunrise.” Helen smiled with the same sort of superiority her own mother had often aimed at her children when she knew that their youth was preventing them from understanding one of life’s realities.
“I am going to fly this sheet. ’Tis a moment I’ve looked forward to.”
Helen knotted one corner of the sheet through the shutter just above the thick iron hinge. She threaded the opposite corner through the shutter on the far side of the window, making sure it was tied tightly. She pushed the length of the sheet through the open window.
A few moments later the bells along the walls began to ring. First only the one nearest to them, but as it sent its sound into the morning, another rang out and then another until the sound echoed up and down the long length of walls.
She blushed but her heart swelled too. She hadn’t shamed him.
Brodick was worthy of purity.
The emotion caught her off guard. It was so very tender that she covered her mouth with a hand. She liked him too much. In sooth, she enjoyed the duties of a wife far too much.
You should have no objections to being used…
Yet was it being used? Taken, aye but she had enjoyed it full well.
Her temper suddenly lit. Philipa had been left far behind her. With everything else that she needed to worry about, the woman’s ill words were not among them.
“Come now, mistress, a good meal will help place strength in ye. Ye’ll need it when the lord’s babe begins to grow inside your womb.”
The color drained from her face. Icy dread locked its grip around her heart.
His babe.
Bonnie had said she would have it.
“Och now, look at ye. Such worry in one so young.” Helen laid a motherly arm around her shoulders, hugging her firmly.
“There’s no need for losing yer color. Ye heard Agnes yerself. Ye’re strong and sturdy. A babe will be no trouble at all.”
Helen swept her out the door. The maids all followed while the bells quieted.
If only it were as simple to still the ringing of dread inside her head.
It was not.