“I wonder what we are having for supper,” said Marjorie awkwardly into the silence. “I find I am hungry. Very hungry.”
Lady Janet smiled briefly as she smoothed her hair and adjusted her hood. “It has been quite the day. I understand there will be beef. Fowl also. I must admit, after living at Stirling Castle—and before that, traveling with the king and his privy councillors—I forgot how many tasks are involved in running a household. Food and supplies, linens, stables, servants’ wages and other expenses…attending to the finer details is not something I enjoy overmuch. I prefer to lead the army—or at least entertain them rather than decide how many carrots they may eat or which color hose they wear.”
“I wonder if,” said Marjorie very, very tentatively, “I could help?”
Lachlan almost laughed at the thought of a lady eager to take on those menial tasks, until he saw the wistfulness on her face. “At the convent,” he asked, “did you have…such duties?”
She twisted her fingers together. “The only nun who didn’t tell me to run along and stop bothering her was Sister Elspeth in the kitchens. Her mind was sharp, but her eyes and hands were not so well anymore. So I helped her make lists. What we grew in the gardens, the supply of butter and herbs, of grain and flour. Each week I would make note of all our supplies and tell her. Then when the men came from town in their wagons, with fish and fowl or other goods, I helped to purchase them. Sister Elspeth showed me how to select the best. To know when I was being cheated. Some of the men thought a nun would be sweet and kind and would forgive them their sins if they did so, but Sister Elspeth set the kitchen dog onto them. He was mean and liked to bite ankles and bottoms. They soon learned to bring only the best.”
This time Lachlan couldn’t halt the laugh that rumbled in his chest. Even the thought of sweet little Marjorie and a wily old nun placidly watching a feral kitchen dog latch onto a merchant’s arse after he tried to cheat them with less-than-fresh food…
“Lady Janet,” he said gruffly. “Maybe you could…train Marjorie in your p-preferences. Allow her to assist you. Ease your b-burden.”
Marjorie beamed at him before turning to Lady Janet with so much hope in her eyes it was almost painful to witness. “May I? I should so like to be useful to you. All your favorite foods and wines, and only the freshest and best goods from town. I would personally ensure your table is the finest in St. Andrews. Oh yes, and that you always have the herbs you need for your tonics and poultices.”
Lady Janet held up both hands. “Very well. Very well! I cede control of the larder. You can take charge of the linen cupboard also. Mind you don’t become a tyrant, though. Save that for the marketplace when some fool tries to sell you fish so old it has gray hairs sprouting from the gills. Now, let us go downstairs to supper before they send an army to find us.”
Marjorie near twirled toward the chamber door, but Lachlan paused and stared hard at Lady Janet. “Mistress—”
“No, pet,” she replied softly but firmly. “I have been flung in several directions today, and all I want this night is a full belly and an empty goblet. To make merry. One thing I am equally certain about is a strong aversion to prying questions regarding the private body matter that half of Scotland knows about because everyone shares and comments on it.”
Lachlan hesitated, then took her hand and squeezed it. “Just know…we are here. That we care. If you ever wish to t-talk. As we did b-by the stream.”
Lady Janet’s face shuttered. “I am glad that discussion bought you comfort, but I do not wish the same for my matter. I’ve had enough advice, enough suspicious looks, and enough blunt questions to last ten lifetimes. I will not be pitied. If you cannot obey that simple command…”
Although her voice trailed off, Lachlan knew what she meant, and icy cold fear slithered down his spine. To be banished from Lady Janet’s presence, to live in a world without the fire that warmed him, that urged him to be better…to be without the woman who understood his desire to be owned and commanded in the bedchamber, and brought him greater pleasure than he’d ever known…
Unthinkable.
“As you wish, lady,” he conceded, willing to say anything to return to her good graces, to make her forget that he’d been a blundering fool. As a bastard son, he well knew how it felt to be the object of talk, and as someone who’d had difficulty speaking for as long as he could remember, he also knew how tiresome and sometimes infuriating the advice and pity could be.
No one wanted to be noted for an affliction, one thing they could not change. Especially when they worked so very hard to succeed in other aspects of their lives. He had honed weaponry and battle to a fine art, and Lady Janet was a bold, learned, lusty woman who had conquered kings, nobles, and common men alike.
To have her affection, to live in this manor and sleep in her bed, was a miracle for a man who had long ago stopped believing in such things.
Nothing could be allowed to spoil that.
Nothing.
…
She had done something terribly wrong but had no idea what it was.
Marjorie gripped her wine goblet tighter as dismay churned around and around in her stomach. Supper had indeed been beef and fowl, roasted,
