Wiping the muck off her backside as best as she could, Mary went back inside the servants’ quarters. Everyone was in a rush and she could understand why. The Laird’s celebratory dinner was fast approaching and everyone was in good spirits. She had not seen or been with Leith in the past few days, but that was all right, she knew he was busy.
Another reason to not bother him with trivialities like Fiona.
“Mary,” Rinalda said as she fixed her cot, “Have ye taken the…” she looked and spotted her mud-stained dress, “good lord, what happened? Did ye slip and fall?”
It was close to the real reason so she nodded. Instead of Rinalda’s face clearing with understanding, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. A loud laugh had her glancing over Mary’s shoulder and her face went tight, her eyes then ran to Mary and a curse left her lips.
Sighing, Mary just shook her head and went to clean up. With a pail of water, she cleaned up the lingering splotches of mud on her skin and then put on a drab grey dress. She did not have the strength to deal with Fiona, and she prayed Rinalda would not do anything foolish either.
Together they went to the kitchens and Mary to her post. As she worked, she spotted carts being carried into the kitchens: loads of potatoes, turnips, carrots, and cabbage. From her window, she could see slaughtered halves of beef, sheep, and goats moving into the smokehouses and large fish being scaled and salted on the large tables outside.
A feast, the likes of which she had never seen before, was in the making. She looked around and sighed in peace, Fiona was not there and everyone was doing their duties and not minding her. She could take a breath of relief.
“Mary,” Nessa called and her head shot up. A tray was placed in her hands with a trencher of cold cuts of venison and tiny boiled potatoes. Beside the trencher were two goblets, one with water and the other with the dark marron hue of an herbal brew. “This is the Laird’s meal, but first he must take his tonic. The guards' ken that he gets this first then his meal.”
Dutifully, she took them up to the Laird’s room but halfway there, she nearly tripped and a good portion of the brew splashed out onto the tray. Indecisive for a moment she decided to go back to the kitchen. The smell of the brew was bitter and burned her nose. Mary had two swallow a few times to have the feeling move from her throat.
What is this made of? It smells awful. My chest is burning in fact.
She hurried back to the kitchens and thankfully, Nessa saw her. “What is it?”
With a quick look, she saw the spilled brew on the tray and took the cup. “I’ll get ye some more.”
Mary went to a window and tipped the rest of the brew outside an unto a plant underneath before washing the wooden tray. Nessa came back with a full goblet. “Take care not to spill this one.”
Nodding, she took the refilled cup and meal up to the Laird’s door and handed the tray over the hulking wall of a man she had come to know as Dugald. He took and then held up his trencher-sized palm to cover a yawn. “Thank ye, lass, I’ll take it to him.”
Nodding, she left and took the stairs back to the lower floor when she nearly ran into another wall of a man. When his meaty hand grabbed at her she nearly skittled away in fear. His bearded face and beastly bulk had her heart hammering in her chest.
“Aye, steady there, lassie,” he said. “Ye dinnae want to be ending on yer face, now, innit?”
“Easy there, McColloch,” Leith’s steady voice cut through her panic. He even reached over and pried the man’s hand away from her shoulders, “Ye’ll have the lass in apoplexies if ye keep doin’ that.”
The bear-man squinted and peered between Leith and then her, then back at Leith before a sly smile took his face. His rumbling voice dipped. “So, ‘tis is the lass, eh?”
The…what does he mean by that?
Helpless to voice her confusion, she aimed a heated glare at Leith only to have this Mister McColloch burst out laughing, “Feisty too, ye could do much worse.”
Huffing, Mary turned toward the kitchen only to have Leith take her arm, “Thank ye for going up to me Faither.”
Slightly mollified, Mary gave him a tight smile and left. The instant she stepped in, her almost-happy mood sunk to the tips of her toes. Fiona was there in the corner whispering something to another. She kept her head straight and kept walking back to her station.
As she worked, she forced herself to ask why Fiona hated her so much and without a cause. Mercifully, she went through the rest of the day without any interference from the woman and had her meal in the quiet darkness of the kitchen.
On her way to the servants’ quarters, she lingered near the hidden seat where Leith had first tapped in the hidden well of her desire. She ran a hand over the stone bench before she sighed and sat. In the darkness, she carefully considered what she was doing.
Loving Leith had not been the plan but it had happened. The plan was to find Tina’s Aunt and live with her for a while before moving off. She had never expected to love a Scotsman and be loved by one. What did make her afraid was that Leith was in line for his Lairdship, one that required him to marry well. He could never marry a servant girl no matter her noble background.
One day I will have to step aside.
Heavy-hearted, she went to her quarters, and stepped into the lamp-lit room. Most of those in the room were already in their beds so she stepped quietly over to Rinalda’s cot and sat.
