Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Katherine’s entire body shook as she walked through the corridor to Lady Agnes’s chambers. As much as she longed to hide away, she was still in charge of educating a wee lass. So, she forced herself to take deep breaths as she slowed her steps.
She needed as much time to steady herself as she could get.
“I didnae mean to insult him,” she muttered to herself, taking care to keep her eyes ahead of her. She might combust if she ran into someone again. Not when she was still grappling with her mishap. “I just meant…”
Even in her own mind, she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d meant. Implying that Agnes was neglected was far from her intention. It was simply that the child rarely allowed herself to play. At no point had she meant that it was anything other than a byproduct of the child’s disposition.
I suppose I was tryin’ to comment on how she’s startin’ to open up to me.
“Why are ye pacin’ the corridor, dear? And what have ye brought all those linens for?”
Lady Agnes’ voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
She was watching with an amused smile. There was no judgment there, simply an entertained understanding.
Katherine looked down at the stack of fabric in her hands then at the woman once more.
She hadn’t realized she’d arrived. Perhaps she wasn't paying attention as well as she thought.
At least I didnae run headfirst into anyone.
“I didnae think ye really meant that we’d camp indoors,” little Agnes said, pushing herself away from her great-grandmother’s side. She crawled to the edge of the mattress but didn’t climb down. “I daenae think that we could make that work. There’s nae room for a tent in here.”
“Campin’ indoors?” Lady Agnes asked from her place on her four-poster bed. “Tell me more.”
“Aye,” Katherine chirped, walking inside and putting a smile on her face.
She felt a little steadier walking into the older woman’s room.
In here, it felt as if everything would be all right.
Or perhaps it was being around the clan’s matriarch that settled something in her.
“I thought that since it was rainin’, we could do somethin’ fun indoors. We can practice readin’ in our tent.”
“Grandmama, I daenae?—”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Lady Agnes said, cutting off the young girl. Little Agnes frowned, the set of her mouth ridiculously severe, but she kept quiet as Lady Agnes gestured at the wooden frame holding up her mattress. “Perhaps ye can use the posts of me bed. They’re tall enough.”
Katherine considered the offer. If they were able to string everything up correctly, Lady Agnes would not have to move.
She wanted everyone to be included, so she was determined to figure this out.
Setting aside most of the sheets, she unfolded the top one.
Then she walked over, comparing the fabric’s length to the mattress’s length.
Arithmetic wasn’t her strongest subject, but she’d never estimated distances incorrectly.
“I do believe that could work,” she said with a nod of her head, an image of what the final product would look like already taking shape in her mind. “We will need twine, though. Or strong yarn. I’d like to connect the posts and drape a sheet on each side.”
“Bright lass,” Lady Agnes said, her praise wrapping around Katherine like an embrace.
She looked at Agnes, who had perched herself on the edge of the bed.
“Agnes, would ye get into me knittin’ basket?
I may have a ball of twine at the bottom.
If nae, bring Katherine the strongest skein of yarn ye can find.
It doesnae matter if it’s me good yarn.”
“Aye, Grandmother,” she said, getting to her feet and scurrying over to a basket in the corner of the room.
For a moment, Katherine watched as Agnes dug through the beautifully woven object. She handled each bundle inside with a soft reverence. Her fingers seemed to be memorizing the texture of each different material.
I should teach her to knit. She has the mind for it.
“There’s a stool in me wardrobe,” Lady Agnes said, nodding toward the solid piece of furniture. Her own eyes were still on her great-grandaughter. “Ye may want to bring yer maid inside, though. She’s a wee bit taller than ye.”
“I’d be happy to help,” Tilly offered, peeking in from the corridor. She seemed to be buzzing with her willingness to assist. “Yer plan sounds quite fun, Miss Katherine.”
I keep forgettin’ that I’m supposed to wait for her when I’m roamin’ the castle.
“Are ye any good at tyin’ knots?” Katherine asked as she went to retrieve the stool.
It was another subject that she’d need to practice, she realized. She’d learned the basics assisting her father when he’d taken her to the sea before, but it had been years since she’d had her hands on twine or rope. The skill was practical, something that she was sure Agnes would love to learn.
“I’m nae an expert, but I’m confident I can get the lines to hold,” Tilly replied, accepting the twine and scissors from Agnes. As she joined Katherine at the edge of the mattress, she continued, “And I checked on Brimstone for ye earlier. He’s doin’ well.”
“Thank ye,” Katherine said, her chest feeling just a bit lighter. She felt terrible for being so caught up in her own mind. She’d barely spared the creature a thought since learning that he’d returned that night in the storm. “I’ll have to visit him soon.”
“I’m sure he’d love that,” Tilly said, already unraveling a length of twine and snipping it free. “Now, tell me how ye’d like me to help.”
For almost twenty minutes, Tilly and Katherine worked together to assemble the posts.
Then, being careful not to jostle Lady Agnes while she rested in bed, they hung a sheet on three sides.
On the fourth side, they hung two sheets, designating it as the entrance and exit.
After they successfully erected the walls of their campsite, they gently smoothed out all the wrinkles.
“This is quite relaxin’,” Lady Agnes said when Tilly leaned inside to adjust the pillows supporting her. “I daenae think I want ye to take it down when ye’re finished. I imagine sleepin’ in here will be quite nice.”
“If I kent ye were plannin’ on keepin’ it up, I would have picked patterned linens,” Katherine said as she climbed into the enclosure.
Just as the older woman had said, the makeshift tent they’d created was comfortable.
“Though, I daenae ken if the light would shine through as well as it does through the white sheets.”
It was a plush room within Lady Agnes’s chambers. The fabric muffled the rain, making everything feel dreamlike. She wasn’t quite sure how she would manage to carry out the lesson when everything seemed to be encouraging her to relax.
“I feel as if I’m in the hearth,” Agnes said, her eyes sparkling as she glanced around the space. “It’s so orange in here.”
“That’s a good thing, aye?” Katherine asked, accepting the book that Tilly passed her. She gave the maid another grateful smile, hoping it helped soothe her earlier forgetfulness.
“It is,” Agnes agreed, crawling over to Katherine’s side. She seemed to smile wider when their eyes met once more.
As Katherine flipped to the story the two of them had left off on, she could feel Lady Agnes’s eyes lingering.
It felt so unlike the scrutiny of Liam’s observations.
It was almost as if Lady Agnes was memorizing the two of them.
Swallowing down the urge to tell the woman how glad she was to be sharing this experience with her, Katherine turned the page toward the child.
Softly, she said, “Let’s practice readin’, aye? The best part of campin’ is tellin’ stories. Or so I’ve heard.”
* * *
“The men are lookin’ sharp,” Cillian said as he and Liam walked into the castle. “I daenae think we have to worry about any unexpected guests at yer handfasting.”
“Nay, I daenae think that we need to worry about it. Our defenses are stronger than they’ve ever been, and our numbers are even larger now,” Liam replied, nodding at a servant as they passed by. “But I’m nae goin’ to let me guard down.”
He’d been studying politics and warfare long enough to know that a strike would occur when they least expected it. The moment his guard slipped would be the moment the Pirate Laird would exploit the weakness. His men would stay constantly prepared for a siege, even if the invasion never happened.
“None of them will, either,” Cillian said, clapping a hand over Liam’s shoulder for a brief moment.
It was a wordless show of support, a type of empathy that was surely meant to soften Liam’s worry.
“I’m goin’ to rest for a bit before supper.
Ye should as well. Ye’ve been workin’ late in yer study. ”
“Ye only ken that because ye arenae gettin’ enough sleep, either,” Liam said, shrugging his man-at-arms’s hand away. “And I may. But I’m on me way to check on Lady Agnes.”
“How has she been recoverin’?” Cillian asked at the junction where they’d part. “Last I saw, her limp hadnae gone away.”
“She says she’s doin’ well, but I think she’s just sayin’ it so nay one will worry,” he said, ignoring the way that his insides chilled.
More and more often, there was a pit in his stomach when he thought of his grandmother’s health.
Her body seemed unable to cope with the fall, and even before the auction, she’d slowed down significantly.
“She’s nae left her chambers for the last week. ”
Cillian nodded, his jaw tightening. Lady Agnes meant something to him, too.
The woman had guided him through his teenage years the same way she had done for Liam.
“Send her me well wishes, then. I will stop by and visit her later this evenin’.
Perhaps I’ll see if she’d like some company while she takes her meal. ”
“She’d like that, I’m sure,” Liam said, no other words feeling appropriate for the situation.