He paced the carpet of one of the castle’s drawing rooms, waiting for her to come, ready to pour her a glass of sherry or whisky or whatever she wanted. He waited. He waited.
He went out into the Great Hall and accosted the manservant there. “The countess. Should I have sent the carriage for her?”
The man blinked. “The countess is here, Mr. Pike. In the kitchens.”
“What’s your name?”
“MacDougal.”
Of course. “Where are the kitchens, man?”
In the warren of rooms under the castle, Jack followed his nose to the kitchens. And there was Helen Boyd, Countess of Kinmarloch, in a loose brown dress, sitting on a stool, laughing with a large woman in an apron splashed with some sort of gravy. The cook, presumably.
“Good evening, my lady,” Jack said and bowed.
Helen turned to him. Her eyes were shining. “Mr. Pike, Mrs. Mac says we are to have goose tonight. Ye havenae eaten goose until ye have eaten Mrs. Mac’s goose. ’Tis wonderful.”
Mrs. Mac, the large woman, shook a spoon. “I remembered ye liked my goose from yer grandfather’s days, my lady.”
“I look forward to it,” Jack said smoothly, smiling. “So far everything I have eaten in the castle has been delicious. Now I find out why. Because the cook herself is a delicacy.”
Helen rolled her eyes as the other woman tittered and blushed.
“I didn’t know you were here, my lady,” Jack said.
Helen smirked. “Aye. I snuck in the postern and came through the dungeons.”
“Let’s go upstairs, Lady Kinmarloch, and have a drink before we eat this wonderful goose.”
Helen slid off the stool. She went to the large woman who was now stirring a pot. “Goodbye, Mrs. Mac.” The woman turned and Helen hugged her, obviously not worried about the gravy stains on the apron.
After the embrace, the woman held Helen out at arm’s length. “My lady, ye must come up here more often to the castle. Come and eat a meal with me. Ye are much too thin.”
Helen looked at Jack and then back at the woman. “Now, Mrs. Mac, ye know I have always been lean like my mother and grandfather. And I widnae want to take advantage.”
Mrs. Mac stared at Jack with a menace in her eye, as if daring him to contradict her. “If ye come here to eat, my lady, ye will eatmyfood. Naebody else’s. ’Tis obvious I could stand to eat half portions myself so ye will eat from what is due me.”
“Yes.” Jack mustered his captain’s voice. “You must come eat. And bring Mags.” He would make sure Helen took something home tonight with her for the girl.
Helen shook her head, and Jack knew she wouldn’t come and eat any of her meals here. Her pride. But at least she would get a good dinner tonight.
Helen led Jack up out of the cellars and underground rooms and back to the drawing room where he had paced, waiting for her.
“It’s a good thing you know your way around. I’m lost.”
“Aye.” She looked around the room.
“Is it changed at all?”
“Nae.”
“Is it hard to be in the castle again? I didn’t think.”
She shook her head. “Nae. ’Tis good to see the place.”
“What will you drink?”
“Do ye have—could I have mulled wine?”
