Angus left his private chambers and walked toward the kitchen. No doubt, between Osla and Gordon, the place would be hopping by now. He sometimes wondered if they ever slept.
“Good morrow, Osla,” Angus said from the doorway.
A heartbeat later, a clay pot crashed to the floor and Gordon tutted in response. “That pot will be coming out of your wage, lass, and no mistake.”
“I am sorry,” the lass said.
Angus came around the table to see who had had the unfortunate accident, and stopped short when he spied Rhona picking up the clay pieces. Her face was aflame as she peeked up and smiled at him.
“I am sorry, my lord. I do not know what has gotten into me. I am not usually this clumsy.”
“No matter, lass. How fares your father?”
Rhona stood up and straightened her apron, taking what seemed like extra time to smooth the bib down across her breasts.
“He is well, and how are you? How did your journey fare? Did your father return with you?”
It was an odd question coming from her. Servants did not normally ask so many personal questions. Before Angus could answer, Osla stepped up to the lass and grabbed the back of her apron.
“Enough nattering, lass. Back to work with ye and leave his lordship alone. These rolls will not make themselves. Now be off with ye over to the ovens and help Cora load the bread.”
Rhona’s face flamed again, and she glared at Osla before smiling sweetly at Angus. She then bobbed a curtsy and left the kitchen.
“That lass will be the death of me, my lord. Tell me again why I need to keep her.”
Angus chuckled. “I do not do it to vex you, Osla. Her father has done me a great service, and in return I vowed to secure a place here for his daughter.”
“You know she talks about you all the time? Have a care there, my lord.”
Angus wrapped his arm around the elderly woman and kissed her cheek. “You have no worries there, Osla. There is nothing in that lass to entice me.”
“I am very pleased to hear that, my lord. And the Sassenach? Does she entice you?”
“Afraid my heart will be stolen away from you?” Angus enjoyed teasing Osla. The woman was older than his own father, but could still be up before dawn and have a day’s work in by sunrise.
“Never, my lord.” Osla looked down at her hands and then back up again. Her smile was kind, and reached all the way to her eyes. “She is very lovely.”
“Who?”
“The Sassenach.”
“Aye, she is that.”
“What do you intend to do with her?”
“I hope she will provide me with an exchange for my father. She is the queen’s cousin, and I believe will be a fair trade.”
“She’s causing quite a stir among the servants,” John, his steward, said from the doorway.
“How so?”
“You put her in your mother’s tower, for starters.”
“Aye, I wanted her kept apart from everyone. She is a prisoner, not a guest. But as a lady, she deserves some level of comfort.”
“Pardon me for saying, Angus, but you did much more than that. The only thing missing from the chamber from your mother’s time is her jewellery chest.”
“What would you have me do? Put her in the cells on Eilean Comhairle?”
