chambers.
Chapter 3
'Fi! Fi!
Fiona Hay dimly heard the voices of her two younger sisters. Her arm was tugged quite rudely. She turned over, grumbling.
Fiona opened catlike eyes and glared at her smallest sister. She felt somewhat stiff, and the place between her legs was slightly sore. She needed more sleep, and yet here were these two troublesome wenches demanding her attention. 'What do ye want?' she growled at the pair.
Morag stepped back at her elder's tone, but Jeannie wasn't in the least intimidated.
'The laird's elder sister, Lady Stewart,' Jean said, 'is down in the hall, and she's demanding to see himself. Jamie-boy says it's because of ye. We'll not learn anything if we canna listen. Get up, Fi, and put some clothes on this minute! Black Angus is dressing. They say he respects Lady Stewart greatly.'
Fiona was puzzled.
' 'Tis what he is called for his black, black hair,' Morag volunteered.
'Take Morag and wait outside,' Fiona instructed Jeannie. She didn't want either girl to see the stains upon her legs or the bedclothes. They would only ask for explanations they were too young to hear. She waited until the two girls had departed the chamber, and then threw back the coverlet and leapt from the bed.
There was a kettle of water warming over the fire. Obviously Nelly had already been into the chamber. Fiona poured some of the water into a small polished brass basin, and taking up a cloth set next to it, she first washed her face, then scrubbed the dried blood from her person. There was a clean soft cotton shift laid out next to her skirts, which had obviously been well brushed, and her blouse was freshly laundered. A pair of sewn stockings, the first Fiona had ever owned, were laid across her boots. They fit to above her knees and had plain ribbon garters. She pulled them on, affixing the garters tightly, imagining her embarrassment should the stockings droop or fall. Janet Stewart would think her a little savage. She had finished dressing when Nelly entered the room.
'Oh, lady, yer up, and ye've dressed yerself! Don't let me aunt Una know, or she'll scold me for not doing my duty,' the girl begged.
'I'm only awake because my sisters came to tell me the laird's sister is below,' Fiona answered.
'Aye,' Nelly said. 'The laird is a wee bit afeared of her. She's just two years younger than he is. My aunt says they fought like cat and dog when they were growing up. 'Tis fortunate, my aunt says, she wasn't a lad, or they might have killed each other.' Nelly chuckled.
'I want to listen,' Fiona said in conspiratorial tones to her new servant. 'Has the laird gone down yet?'
'Just now,' Nelly replied, her eyes twinkling. 'Come on, and I'll show ye where ye may hear them.' She beckoned Fiona, and hurried from the chamber.
Jeannie and Morag were still outside, and at a signal from their elder sister they followed wordlessly as Nelly led them quickly down the stairs, through the corridor, and toward the hall. When they had almost reached the hall, Nelly turned down a narrow passageway, drawing them into a small room. Finger to her lips, she crossed the chamber and cracked open a small sliding panel.
' 'Tis how we know when to serve and what is needed without being told,' she said. 'Come, lady, ye can hear everything.'
Fiona peered into the hall. She could see Angus Gordon pouring a goblet of wine for a tall attractive woman.
'There ye are, Janet,' he said, and Fiona heard him quite clearly. 'What brings ye to Brae, sister? I hope Hamish and the children are well.'
'I was at Glenkirk visiting our uncle, the laird,' she replied. 'Did ye really think that the priest would not gossip, Angus?'
'What priest?' he asked her, sipping from his goblet.
'The one that came from the abbey to oversee the marriages of the two little Hay girls to the Innes and the Forbes lads. Ye've caused a fine scandal, Angus Gordon! Where are Mistress Fiona Hay and her sisters? Oh, how could ye? What an infamous arrangement ye made with that poor innocent lassie. Ye’ll have to wed her now-and perhaps something good will come of yer conduct, for 'tis certainly past time ye were married. Oh, Robert sends his regards to ye, and says he'll pray to the Blessed Virgin that ye'll turn from yer wicked ways.'
'Who is Robert?' Fiona whispered to Nelly.
'The second brother,' Nelly replied. 'He's four years younger than the laird. He went to the abbey when he was ten and became a priest three years ago. Isn't Lady Stewart lovely?'
Fiona nodded. Angus Gordon's sister had shining black-brown hair in a braided arrangement. She was very fair, and her bright blue eyes snapped as she berated her elder brother for his outrageous behavior.
'Yer twenty-five, Angus Gordon,' his sister said sternly. 'I'm but two years yer junior, and I've been wed nine years, and have five bairns.'
'The wife should be younger,' the laird said with some good humor, and sliced himself a piece of cheese to nibble.
'Fiona Hay can be no more than fifteen. She's almost past her prime. Another year, and she will be,' Janet Stewart said firmly. 'Ye've taken her honor, Angus. No other will have her now. Ye must wed her. This lass isn't some cottar's daughter. Her family is respectable.'
'She's a brazen little cattle thief, my dear sister,' the laird replied. 'She has already stolen a dozen head of my cows, and had the gall to bargain for eight more for her younger sisters' dowers. Don't waste yer outrage on Fiona Hay.'
'Did ye breach her?' Janet Stewart demanded of him.
The laird flushed. 'What kind of a question is that for a respectable matron to ask a man?' he countered.
Fiona had heard enough. Pushing past the startled Nelly and her two younger sisters, she found her way into the hall. 'I'll not wed with him, madam,' she said loudly as she entered the room. 'I'll not be shackled to a man I don't love, like my poor mam.' She glared defiantly at the pair of siblings.
'Ye’ll marry me if I say so!' Angus Gordon shouted.
'Go to hell, ye pompous jackass!' Fiona shouted back.
Janet Stewart burst into a peal of laughter. 'Why, bless my soul, Angus, yer lassie has more spirit than I think ye can handle.'
'I am not his lassie!' Fiona said fiercely.
'Come here to me, Fiona Hay,' Janet Stewart said quietly. Reaching out her hand, she drew the girl closer to her, looking into one of the fairest faces she had ever encountered. 'If ye will not have my brother for yer husband, then no other will have ye, lassie. 'Tis a good marriage for ye both, and Angus already has a dowry in yer grandfather's lands.' She gently caressed the girl's cheek. 'Yer mother, may God assoil her good and sweet soul, loved my father. Having to wed with Dugald Hay must have been hell on earth for her. Nonetheless, we canna all wed just for love. Love usually comes afterward, lassie.'
'Did ye not love yer man when ye wed him?' Fiona asked.
