“Good God, lass, stop where ye are! Calum, move those boxes now. Now!” Struan bellowed when Calum didn’t move quick enough.
Anice hesitated, staying where she was until the path was clear. Nodding her thanks to Calum, she walked to the laird.
“I beg your pardon, laird, for keeping you waiting. I got caught up in taking an inventory of the supply rooms.”
“And how many times have I told ye not to do this?”
She looked at his face and saw the concern under his bluster of not being obeyed. The flash of pity that followed caused her to look away. Fighting back the burning of tears, she tugged on her shawl and wrapped a bit of the old pride around her once again.
“Again, I beg your pardon. The tasks were not done in the autumn when they should have been and I feared that we would not have enough to make it through the rest of the winter.”
“Calum, leave us.”
The cook nodded and ran from the room, as fast as his bulky body would carry him. Poor man, he did not want to bein the middle of another battle between the laird and his daughter-by-marriage. The gossip of the last one still made the rounds in the castle and in the village beyond the walls of the keep.
“Sit. Here.” Struan pulled out a large cask and ordered her to it. She obeyed without resistance. Her back did ache and her feet were beginning to swell. A short rest before going on to the next room would be a good thing. Anice sat down and straightened her plain gown around her and pushed the loose hairs behind her ears. When she had gathered herself she looked at the laird.
“I have told ye more times than I can count, Anice, not to do this work yerself. We have more than enough servants and clan here in the castle to do this for ye.”
“Struan, I can do this. I feel fine.”
“Ye work yerself like a slave when ye are a lady, Anice. There are others who will do these duties.”
“I told you when Dougal was taken ill that I could handle it, Struan. Do you have a complaint about the way I do things? About things not getting done?” She allowed herself some measure of pride in her ability to get things done. No one could complain about that.
“Things have changed since then but ye refuse to change with them.”
“I have told you... I am fine.” A glance at his face would have warned her about the coming explosion but she hadn’t bothered to look.
“Ye are no’ fine, Anice. Ye look pale and ye have no’ been eating as ye should.”
She closed her eyes and let his words pass over her. They had been through this before—it was not new ground to them.
“And, ye havena been sleeping and ye canna fit into yer shoes any longer.”
Her eyelids popped open at this newest charge and she tucked her stockinged and wool-wrapped feet under her skirts. Damn that Firtha! The woman should learn her place. The anger must have shown on her face.
“Dinna think to rebuke your maid. No one else can keep a watch on ye as she can.” Struan glared at her. Then, taking herhand in his, he continued, “Ye canna ignore that carrying yer babe is causing ye problems. Moira says ye need to try to rest more, off yer feet.”
“You have spoken to Moira about this?” Would nothing about her ever remain private? She knew the answer before she asked the question—not while she carried a possible heir of the clan in her belly.
“Aye, I have. She wants ye to visit her in the village.”
“No, Struan. She may come here but I will not go there.” Anice shivered at the thought of her last visit to the village— the furtive glances, the questions on the faces of the clan, the pity in the eyes of those who knew. No, she would not go.
“Ye will, lass, if I have to drag ye there myself.”
She stopped herself from laughing out loud at his threat. He truly meant well. He cared about her in his own way. But under it all was his soul-deep commitment to the future of the clan. And she may well be carrying that future inside her now. She knew he wouldn’t relent in any matter where the clan stood to lose.
She stood and gathered her shawl around her, rubbing her arms to warm them. Taking a deep breath, she faced her father-by-marriage and nodded.
“I will see her, Struan.”
“Today. Now.” His voice was insistent.
“Aye, Laird, today.”
“Now that’s a good lass.” He took her arm and wrapped it around his to escort her out of the storage room. “Yer maid awaits ye in the hall with yer boots and cloak. She will walk with ye to the village.”
