Carenza learned as a young lass she had to tread carefully around him.God forbid she should complain.Or weep.Or counter his commands.
She feared if she made him unhappy, he might leave her as well.And then she would be all alone in the world.
But as long as she kept him happy…
It wasn’t too difficult.
She only had to be the perfect daughter.
She smoothed her brows and checked her teeth.She adjusted the pearl pendant around her throat.Then she tugged her leine into place on her shoulders, adjusting the soft arisaid of muted gray tartan that brought out the smokiness in her eyes.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the reflection of a wee beast behind her.A brown rat.Standing on its hind legs in the middle of her chamber floor.Sniffing at the air.
She lowered the mirror and turned to face the animal.
“Ye’re early, Twinkle,” she told him.“I haven’t a crumb yet.”
The rat settled back down onto all fours.
“Come back in an hour,” she said.“I’ll be back from supper and bring ye a nice treat.”
Twinkle’s whiskers twitched.Then, as if he understood, he turned round and returned to the shadows of the garderobe.
That was another thing she had to hide from her father.He knew she had a fondness for animals.But he didn’t realize how all-encompassing her affections were.In the last ten years, under her father’s nose, she’d kept a menagerie of pets.At any given time, her chamber might be crawling with pups, kittens, ducklings, doves, coneys, mice, rats, toads, or lizards.
She’d gone through so many shrieking lady’s maids that she finally told her father she’d rather tend to herself.
In spring, she visited the lambs and kids, piglets and calves, stots and colts.She fed the birds in the forest and had a crow that liked to bring her treasures in return—bits of pottery and ribbon and coins.She studied the bees in their hives.Butterflies hatching from their chrysalises.Chicks emerging from their eggs.And tadpoles turning into frogs.
Because she couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing her father with her strange interests, she was careful not to let him see too much.
She also worked exceptionally hard in the hours she wasn’t tending to her fauna to ensure she was as well-educated as her noble peers.As well-mannered as her father expected.Skilled with a needle.Accomplished at the lute.Softspoken.Kindhearted.Everything one could wish for in a lady and a daughter.
Perfect.
She glanced in the mirror again and brushed a stray eyelash from her cheek.Then she set the steel square down on the table beside her ivory comb.Holding her head high and smoothing the wrinkles from her pale yellow skirts, she pasted on a brilliant smile and left her chamber to greet her father for supper.
The clan’s chatter lowered to murmurs as Carenza entered the great hall.Her father turned to her, and approval shone in his eyes.Breathing a sigh of relief, she smiled and sat beside him.
“Ye look lovely, as always,” her father murmured.
“Och, Da,” she teased, “ye’re still blind as a bat.”
He laughed.
She liked making him laugh.Laughter kept his grief at bay.
The new kitchen lad approached with oatcakes and ruayn cheese, setting them down before her with shaking hands.
“Thank ye, John,” she said.
He seemed surprised she knew him.But he’d soon realize she knew all the servants by name.After all, being considerate was the hallmark of a proper lady, and there was nothing more considerate than remembering a person’s name.
She spread cheese on an oatcake and took a tiny bite.
“How fares the midwife?”her father asked.
“The midwife?”She took a moment to swallow.And think.
