“My lady, perhaps it has escaped your notice, but Dunkeathe is in Scotland. Whoever I marry will have to be respectful of the Scots.”
Her soft, smooth cheeks colored. “Of course, my lord. I meant no offense.”
He forced himself to smile. “I take none. I only point out that we Normans must have a care how we speak of Scots when we’re in Scotland.”
“Yes, my lord,” she said in a small voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go to the kitchen.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
STANDING OUTSIDEthe buttery, Riona crooked her finger for Polly to join her. “In here a moment, Polly,” Riona said quietly. “I want to talk to you.”
Her eyes wide with curiosity, the maidservant put down her bucket and came without hesitation. “What’s going on?” Polly whispered.
“It’s about Lady Eleanor and her turn at running the kitchen tomorrow.”
Polly shrugged. “She can’t be any worse than that Lady Joscelind, or Lady Lavinia. A more scatterbrained woman I never saw. O’course, if she’d not spent half her time in here with that Audric, she might have done better.”
Riona momentarily forgot what she wanted to say to Polly. “Lavinia was in the buttery with Audric?”
Polly grinned. “Yes—a lot. But it’s all right, my lady. Seems they’re going to be married. Lady Lavinia’s maid told me, and she’s that thrilled, you’d think she was the bride. Audric lives in London and Sally’s always wanted—”
“I’m delighted for her,” Riona said, cutting off what was likely to be a long recitation of Sally’s desires. “And that means, you realize, that Lady Lavinia won’t be Sir Nicholas’s bride.”
“No, and God save us, not that Lady Priscilla, I hope, neither,” Polly said. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, that laugh of hers! Like a horse with the wheezes.”
“So you’ll agree with me, then, Lady Eleanor would be the best choice for Sir Nicholas.”
“No, I don’t,” Polly said stoutly. “That’d be you. Lady Eleanor’s a sweet girl and all, but—”
“While I appreciate your compliment, Polly, Sir Nicholas is never going to choose me. I don’t have a large dowry. Lady Eleanor does, and she’s pretty and gentle. I think she could even mellow Sir Nicholas a bit.”
“You really think she has a better chance than you?” Polly asked, a look of dismay on her pretty face.
“Yes, I do, and you have to agree she’d be a better mistress than Lady Joscelind.”
“Anybody’d be better than her. God love you, my lady, I’d rather have Alfred back than her. But I still say it ought to be you, and if it’s not…well…I never took Sir Nicholas for a fool before.”
“He’s not a fool. He’s a man who’s worked hard for what he has, and must marry well in order to…Well, like any nobleman, he must marry with an eye to the future. So if you prefer Lady Eleanor for your chatelaine, you must do your best to help her tomorrow, and persuade the other servants to do likewise. I’ve tried to teach her as well as I can, but you and I both know that a fine meal really depends on the servants.”
Polly frowned, and reluctantly nodded. “All right, sinceyou’reasking.”
Riona smiled with genuine relief. “Good. And thank you. Eleanor will thank you, too, I’m sure. Now I’ll leave you to get on with your work.”
“Do you want us to ruin Lady Joscelind’s meal tonight?” Polly asked as Riona started to open the door. “It’d be our pleasure and it’d serve Lady Joscelind right.”
Riona shook her head. “No, no sabotage, Polly. All I ask is that you do your best for Eleanor.”
Riona left the buttery and continued out in the courtyard. The air was warm, with a slight breeze that had a hint of the tang of the sea in it. Overhead, white clouds moved slowly across the sky, with darker ones on the horizon threatening rain. Lady Marianne and her husband were to leave for Lochbarr in the morning; perhaps rain would keep them in Dunkeathe another day or so.
Not sure what she ought to do, Riona strolled toward the gate. She hadn’t seen Uncle Fergus since mass, but that wasn’t so unusual these days. If he wasn’t trying to get the recalcitrant Fredella to speak to him, he was riding about the valley helping Thomas select sheep.
“A moment if you please, Lady Riona!” a woman’s voice called out in Gaelic.
She turned to find Lady Marianne hurrying across the courtyard toward her. “How fortunate to find you! I was hoping for a chance to speak with you before we went home. I have alittle time before Cellach will need me. Will you walk with me to the village?”
To refuse would be blatantly rude. “If it pleases you, my lady.”
“Excellent.”
