'I'll not tell anyone,' she promised. 'Do you mean, then, that the kitchen is in a separate building?'
Frieda nodded so vigorously that the bun of hair atop her head wobbled. 'Some winters is so poor we got to wade through the snow up to our knees. It gets a might cold, lass.'
'Tomorrow will you show me where this building is?'
'Why are you wanting to see it?'
'Now that I'm mistress, I might make a few changes here and there,' Jamie explained. 'It does sound as though the kitchen needs to be moved closer to the main building, now, doesn't it?'
'Do you mean it, lass?' Frieda asked, her enthusiasm obvious. She frowned then and whispered, 'I wouldn't be boasting of making changes, though, leastways not in front of Edith. She likes to think of herself as mistress. She's a bossy bit of goods, that one.'
Jamie smiled. 'That, too, will have to be changed, won't it?'
She could tell from the beaming smile on the elderly woman's face that she'd made an ally for life.
'You'd best see to your bath before the water turns cold,' Frieda advised before taking her leave.
Jamie thought about Frieda's remarks while she stripped out of her clothes. She eased into the tub without making a sound. She didn't want to make any noise because Alec and his soldiers were just a shout away, but by the time she'd washed her hair and given herself a good scrubbing, she was too tired to care if they heard her or not. She put on a clean sleeping gown, tied the pretty pink ribbons together from waist to neck, and climbed into the huge bed.
It took another half-hour or so to get her hair brushed and partially dried.
Alec's sword kept intruding into her thoughts. It was downright humiliating the way he'd let her go on and on about a knight needing a trusty sword. Yet she was smiling about it now. She couldn't stay angry with Alec.
She actually let out a soft chuckle when she remembered suggesting to him that Daniel give him training. Alec probably thought she was the one with brains of sheep. He certainty didn't think she was any better than an ignorant country mouse.
Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was a most revealing one: she wished Alec would come to bed. Heaven help her, she was falling in love with the barbaric Scotsman.
I see the way Alec keeps glancing over at the screen. The English bitch has him wanting her already. Was his love for Helena so shallow he can replace her so easily?
He doesn't remember the lesson. Perhaps he has already given his heart to his bride. God, I hope so. Her death will be all the more painful then.
I won't wait to kill her.
Chapter Ten
The whispers awakened Jamie. She was disoriented at first. The candles were burning still, casting shadows that danced along the screen. Jamie stared at the dark reflections a long minute before she remembered where she was.
The whispers brushed through the air again. She strained to catch a word or two, and when she'd managed that feat, she was wide awake and trembling with fear.
Oh, she understood the words now. It was the holy sacrament of extreme unction she was listening to, the sacred rite for a departing soul.
They must have found Angus. Jamie made a hasty sign of the cross, put on her robe, and went to offer her own prayers. She knew she was considered an outsider, but she was Alec's wife all the same. Wasn't it her duty to stand by her husband when he said his farewell to his friend?
Alec didn't hear her approach. Jamie stood behind his back, watching while the priest read the holy rite.
The body had been placed on the table opposite the one in front of the screen.
The old priest, dressed in requiem vestments of black with purple trim, stood at one end of the table. He had gray hair, a complexion to match, and spoke in a voice graveled with sadness.
Alec stood at the opposite end of the long table. Soldiers of varying rank filled the spaces between. Anna, Edith, and another woman Jamie guessed was Elizabeth, stood near the hearth.
Jamie's heart went out to the grieving woman. She could see the tears streaming down Elizabeth's face. The woman didn't make a sound, though, a fact that made Jamie admire her all the more. Under similar circumstances, she'd probably be wailing uncontrollably.
She peeked around her husband to get a better look at the man they were mourning.
At first she thought he was dead. Jamie was used to seeing injuries of every sort, and for that reason she barely blanched over the horrible sight before her. There was blood everywhere, or so it appeared to her at first notice. Jamie couldn't tell how much was bluster, though, and how much was real damage. A large curved gash took up a fair portion of the warrior's chest. His lower left arm was broken, too, near the wrist, but it looked like a clean break to her.
He was a battle-scarred man with rugged features and dark brown hair. A large welt had made his brow swell up, giving him a grotesque appearance. Jamie stared at the bump a long while, wondering if that was the blow that had caused his death.
The dead man suddenly grimaced. It was an ever-so-slight movement she would have missed if she hadn't been watching him so intently.
A spark of hope was ignited in her mind. She concentrated on the way the warrior was breathing. It was a mite shallow, she decided, yet true as a rooster's. A good sign, that, for there was usually a rattle shivering through the air when death came stalking his prey.
The truth still took her by surprise. Angus wasn't dying …yet.
The priest was taking forever to finish his prayers. Jamie didn't want to wait.
The man they were mourning would surely catch a fever and die before morning unless she could take care of his injuries.
Jamie reached up to tap Alec's shoulder. He immediately turned around, then moved to block her view of the wounded soldier. He didn't look overly happy to see her.
'It's Angus?' she whispered.
Alec nodded. 'Go back to bed, Jamie.'
'He isn't dead.'
'He's dying.'
'No, I don't think he is, Alec.'
'Go to bed.'
'But Alec-'
'Now.'
The harshness in his command worried her. Jamie turned around and slowly walked back to her bed. She was already listing the items she would need to help Angus.
When she returned to her husband, her arms were filled with her precious medicine jars. She had tucked a long needle and sturdy thread into one pocket of her robe. Three white stockings dangled from her other pocket. Jamie was determined to do what she could to save the warrior, with or without her husband's cooperation. She only hoped Alec wouldn't make too much of a fuss before he gave in.
He was going to have to give in, though, and that was that.
The priest gave the final blessing and knelt down. Alec motioned to his men, turned, and very nearly knocked Jamie to the floor. He instinctively reached out to steady her.
He was bloody furious with her. The look on his face said as much. So did his hard grip on her shoulders. Jamie took a deep breath, then blurted out, 'In England we have a rather quaint custom, Alec. We don't mourn a man until he's dead, and we don't call for our priest until we're sure he's dying.' She'd certainly gained his full attention with that statement. 'Alec, you cannot know for certain that Angus is dying. Let me see to his injuries. If God is determined to have him now, nothing I do will make any difference.' She shrugged his hands away while she waited for his answer. It was a long time in coming.
Alec was looking at her as though she'd just lost her mind. Jamie tried to move to his side, but he blocked
