Page 28 of The Lyon and the Lass

“Hollis!”

His only remaining servant appeared at the door to the drawing room. “Yes, my lord.”

“Get me a whisky, the decanter is empty.”

“The whisky is all gone, my lord.”

He cursed and left the room, and the house. He still had a couple of clubs he was welcomed at. At least for now. Someone there would buy him a whisky.

Bloody niece and her arrogant, low-class husband. Scotland!

Christine wiped herforehead with a piece of not-too-clean linen. She’d just finished helping the young lasses clean the last bedchamber. They’d started with the laird’s room right after that first disastrous morning meal days before.

She hoped Kerrigan would return this evening. He’d been away for days and all that time she’d worked like a servantherself. The new cook she’d hired, Rose, had been a very good choice but was still feeling her way with the unfamiliar kitchen, which was probably lacking some necessities. She’d also sent word to the village that she needed a few more lasses to work at the keep. Five young ladies showed up and she’d hired them all.

After spending time in the village, paying past due bills to the shopkeepers and vendors, she’d used the charm she’d learned from her governess to assure them all that the castle was now able to pay for their necessities and soon there would be sheep so those who earned their living that way would once again prosper.

“My lady, the new cook has just announced that the evening meal is ready to be served, and she needs all the serving maids at the kitchen.” Allison, one of the new maids made this announcement as she arrived at the bedchamber door.

“Yes. We must be sure that supper is served on time.” Christine looked around the room and decided it was clean enough. The bedchambers they’d worked in had required backbreaking days, but all the critters who had taken up residence had been disposed of. Fresh rushes sprinkled with lavender and rosemary had been laid down, which would do until she could order some carpets for the rooms. Clean bedding and hangings had replaced those that had been there for no-one-knew how long.

She stood, stretching and rubbing her sore back. She’d never worked so hard in her life. Truth be told, she’d never worked at all. She had been waited on, fussed over, made to feel like the lady that she was. Now she looked with dismay at her filthy dress, her plaited hair hanging in clumps, her dirty hands. If she were to join the others downstairs for supper, she had to clean up.

Sighing, she knew there was no one available to bring her warm water to clean up. She had to do it herself. Everything sheneeded these days she had to do herself. But it was still better than being married to Lord Newton. She shuddered.

The kitchen was in a frenzy. Rose seemed to have things under control, but considering how new she was to the kitchen, she was a tad frazzled. The maids were all racing back and forth, carrying platters of excellent-smelling food. There was even the enticing aroma of fresh baked bread in the air.

Without disturbing the goings-on, Christine retrieved a large jug of water and carried it upstairs to her and Kerrigan’s bedchamber. She was panting when she arrived. This whole experience had been a lesson in how hard the servants worked. She dipped a cloth into the water and washed as best she could.

She rummaged through the dresses she’d bought from the village seamstress, pleased again that the woman had some not-too-fancy dresses readymade. When she took out the dark rose wool dress, with tiny green leaves embroidered along the neckline, she thought it would be perfect.

However, it was a wrinkled mess, and she had no idea how to get the wrinkles out. Her maid had always swept dresses away to somewhere in the house and come back with them all pressed. However, now there was no choice. The dirty dress she’d worn when she spent the day cleaning was not a choice, either.

She smoothed out the dress as best she could and put it on. Since the great hall was generally chilly, she decided to wear a lovely rose shawl.

Her hair was a mess and had been for days since she’d been unable to wash it. The first thing the next morning, she would send word to the village that a few strong lads were needed at the keep. Their first assignment would be to drag the old bathtub she’d seen in one of the unused rooms to her bedchamber and fill it with hot water. She would climb in and soak for hours, or at least until the water cooled until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Just the thought of it made her eyes water.

Her stomach rumbling with hunger after the day she had, she left the room and hurried downstairs. Not paying much attention to where she was going and the poor lighting in the part of the staircase that reached the floor, she took two steps from the stairs and ran into a brick wall.

Well, a brick wall that was warm and gripped her shoulders. “Good eve, wife.”

Her heart sped up and she grinned. “Kerrigan! You’re home.” She peered up at him.

“Aye and anxious to see how ye fared.” He looked down at her. “’Tis sorry I am, lass, that I left ye here so soon after our arrival.” He gave her the crooked-little boy smile she recognized and loved. “Will ye forgive me?”

The fluttering in her stomach told her she was glad to see him. As frustrated as she’d been trying to make some semblance out of the keep after he’d barely introduced her, then hied off to Edinburgh, he was still her husband, and he was home.

It must have been the fatigue from all the work, because she opened her mouth to speak and burst into tears. In between sobs, she mumbled, “Yes. I forgive you.”

He took her in his arms and drew her close. She wrapped her arms around his warm, strong body and rested her weary head against him as the tears slowly dried up. His large hand cupped her head, rubbing her scalp. He pulled back and placed his hands on her face, looking into her eyes before his lips met hers.

Again, he gathered her close and nudged her lips with his tongue. She opened to him, and he plundered her mouth. When she thought she would melt to the floor, he pulled back. “That was a verra nice welcome home, Christine. But we will finish what we started later tonight.” He winked.

She took a deep breath and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and patted her hair where some of it had come loose from the ribbon. “I was headed to the hall for supper.”

He leaned in and kissed her again. Not the soul wrenching one he’d just given her, but a more subdued one. “Is there water in our bedchamber?”

“Aye. I just brought up a jug from the kitchen. It might not be too clean, but it’s wet.”