Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“Where am I?”
Beatrice awoke with a startled gasp. The night had not restful so far and she had barely slept, tired but disoriented from all the adventures of the last four-and-twenty hours.
In her confusion, she almost called out for Margo before remembering that she was in Castle MacSween and lying back on the mattress again. At least the bed was comfortable here, the mattress firm and the sheets fine and smooth.
Sleep still eluding her, Beatrice rose and went to the window.
“Three of the clock and all is well,” called out the faint voice of the watchman in the courtyard.
Three o’clock in the morning, and surely everyone else in this place was sleeping soundly but her. Indeed, aside from the watchman’s lantern and those about the paths below and walls above, most of the castle was in darkness.
Light only burned on one window that Beatrice could see – the very window that Shona had pointed out to her as being the laird’s bedroom.
Was Leo MacSween awake in there too? Or had he fallen asleep while reading and the lamp was burning pointlessly?
Maybe he was even entertaining a guest in there, perhaps that woman on the horse who had called him a “beautiful beast”…
The thought of that scene made Beatrice feel quite indignant although she knew it was ridiculous.
Laird MacSween had given her his hand in marriage and seemed happy to provide for her life here in the castle.
He even wished her to know his precious daughter.
But Beatrice could all too easily imagine how he would react to any claim on his affections.
No, not imagine. She knew, she had seen his reaction to even the implication of such a claim.
Oh, we are both ridiculous.
Sighing, she returned to the bed and lay awake until dawn.
“The Laird says ye are to join him for dinner today,” Shona announced as she flung open the curtains. “Ye may do as ye like until then, although it’s best I’m with ye for now. Laird MacSween says he doesnae want ye being bothered by odd men.”
“I met some of them on the council,” Beatrice admitted, to Shona’s dark amusement. “It was nae a pleasant experience.”
“Aye, well. We all ken who they are and they’ll feel the laird’s wrath if they even look at ye wrong, Beatrice.
I’ve had me instructions and I hope the randy old goats and young bulls have more sense than to rile him.
Leo MacSween is het up about this, but he always does hate to see women bothered. ”
“His mother must have raised him well,” Beatrice remarked, going to the washstand and beginning to splash water on her face.
“Until his father killed her, I dare say,” Shona informed her, sifting through a pile of linen and stockings and setting out a choice for Beatrice.
“His father killed his mother?!” exclaimed Beatrice.
“So, they say, although ’twas hushed up at the time. Me uncle told me that when the old laird died, Leo MacSween refused to hold a wake or lead the mournin', so maybe there’s some truth in those stories.”
“Poor Leo,” Beatrice said with compassion, drying her face. “No wonder he…”
She stopped herself here, feeling it would be disloyal to discuss her thoughts on the laird’s mind and heart with a third party. He was a strange and unpredictable man, but he had been kind, and Beatrice badly needed his protection.
“Well, what shall we wear today, me Lady? Ye may choose yer day gown now, and then ye’ll bathe and change for dinner. I told the laird I’d get ye dressed up like the finest lady in Scotland, though we’re nae usually so formal in Castle MacSween.”
“Ye choose, Shona,” Beatrice laughed. “Everythin' ye pick is right.”
Everything Shona picked drew Laird Leo MacSween’s attention in one way or another. Was it foolish or wrong to enjoy that? Beatrice couldn’t see any reason why…
She spent her morning walking the galleries and then playing in the castle gardens with Effie and her nursery maids, finding that the little girl did indeed know all the best hiding places. At noon, a light meal of bread, cheese and fruit was served in her room.
“I’m sure ye’ll enjoy this part, though,” Shona said, directing her to a room at the far end of the east wing. “There’s nay lass in the whole world who doesnae like to be pampered.”
“Pampered?”
Beatrice pushed open the door and was struck by the sight of a gorgeous bath crafted out of stone and slate. Three maids were filling it with water being heated on a small fire in the corner.
She had never seen anything like it. They had a bath at Whitmore Manor, but it was cramped and lackluster. There was no majesty, no stunned silence at the sight of it. Like much else that was in the manor, it served a purpose and nothing more.
Shona helped her undress and step into the warm water.
Despite the heat, Beatrice couldn’t help but shiver.
A tingle spread through her limbs, tucked into a place inside her that she couldn’t access.
It was as if a surge of power had bolted through her.
That same pressure she had felt flowing out of Leo when he had stood close to her in the hallway shook her limbs and made all the tiny, fine hairs on her body stand on end.
Shona poured a pitcher of water over her head and raked gentle fingers through her hair. “We’ll have ye looking bonnier than ever.” She spread the soft waves and coils of auburn bronze over the surface of the water. “It willnae take much to make ye look lovely, I can tell ye that.”
“Aye, but she’s young,” said an older maid while stoking the fire. “Remember how bonnie we all were when we were her age.”
“Daenae kid yerself, ye old hag,” Shona laughed. “I daenae remember ye ever lookin’ as lovely as Beatrice here.”
The maids went about their duties, and Shona helped Beatrice out of the cooling water after she was done washing and plaiting her hair. They walked back to her bedchamber side by side, rather than one or the other leading.
“I’ll find ye something soft and beautiful to wear,” Shona said as she opened the door.
There was an odd scurrying noise, and the drapes wavered as if a strong wind had just blown through the room, but everything else was still. Beatrice paused, looking around to check for anything unusual.
Shona didn’t seem to notice. She was clucking on about the perfect dress and how lovely Beatrice was going to look at dinner.
Under the drapes, Beatrice spotted a pair of boots in the same position as the ones she had seen beneath the tapestry in the Great Hall.
She crept closer, not wanting to let the hidden know that they were spotted until she was ready to strike.
The floorboards creaked under her feet, and she watched the small boots shift as if ready to dart out.
“And who’s hidin’ in me chambers?” she growled playfully as she dove forward and grabbed Effie, holding her inside the drapes. “And why are they hidin’?”
Effie shrieked and wriggled, happily caught. When she managed to squirm free of Beatrice's grasp, she jumped out from behind the drapes, her hands clasped over her mouth and her mop of hair bouncing like a golden red sunburst around her head.
Quieting, the little girl studied her.
“Ye’ll be havin’ dinner with us tonight,” she said after a long silence.
Obviously, she hadn’t been quiet just to mull over that, but Beatrice accepted it. It was natural that the child was curious about a new stepmother and Beatrice was only glad that Effie felt safe and comfortable enough around her to seek her out.
“Aye. What do ye think we’re havin’ tonight?” Beatrice asked, bringing her knees to her chest and folding her arms around them.
Effie pursed her lips again, her face contorting in deep thought. “I hope it’s something special,” she said. “If we have a guest, it’s only polite that we have more than just boiled cabbage and potatoes.”
“Ye daenae like cabbage and potatoes?”
“Nay. They stink like death.” Effie stuck the tip of her little tongue out of her mouth and pressed two fingers to her nose. “Father tells me those smelly things are good for me.”
“Me father used to say the same thing to me about broad beans,” Beatrice commiserated.
“But ye had to eat them?”
“Sometimes.” She leaned forward and cupped a hand next to her face, as if whispering a very important secret. “Other times, I’d just throw the damn things on the floor.”
Effie clapped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle a hearty peal of laughter.
“Let’s get ye ready for dinner, lassie,” Shona said, interrupting their coarse clucks of laughter. “On yer feet. I’ll cinch ye up.”
“I want to walk with ye to the Great Hall,” Effie told Beatrice as Shona tied up the back of her dress.
Smiling, Beatrice took the little girl’s hand and they walked together.