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“Aye, that was the other choice. Lord McGregor said that his own keep was a safe and a prosperous place, and we would be welcome to make our homes there.”
“But, it was such a long journey for you.”
“Yes, but I was so scared for you that I ran after the Highland laird and I asked his lordship where he was taking you. I thought he might have me whipped for my impertinence but he did not. He stopped and spoke to me, said you would be taken to Duncleit to answer for your part in the massacre. Hearing that, I convinced my brother to set out for here as well. I could not leave you alone among those who might hurt you, my lady, it didn’t seem right.”
A disgruntled snort from Roselyn’s left reminded her of Meggie’s inquisitive presence. “I look after milady. Me and Freya,” she announced indignantly. “And no one will harm her. The McGregor willna permit it.”
“Thank you, Meggie.” Roselyn reached to pat the girl’s arm, knowing she meant no disrespect to the newcomers. “You are right of course, but Betsy was not to know that. I am grateful to you, to both of you, for your help and your kindness.”
“And Elspeth,” prompted Meggie. “She was the one who ‘elped ye with your poor whipped bottom.”
“What? He whipped you? Why, that mean devil. I should ha’ known better than to—”
“Hush.” Roselyn interrupted the loyal servant’s tirade. “It was a fair and just punishment and far more lenient than I might have hoped for.” She paused, then continued, her voice low. “He would have been within his rights to hang me.”
“No! Surely—”
“Yes. He could have done that, but he did not. Instead he sought out the truth. He waited until you arrived in order that you might speak out for me, and he even sent a messenger to Kelso to question the Reverend Mother there. I… I have no complaints at all about my treatment under Blair’s roof.”
“Blair? You and he be on first name terms then?”
Betsy’s tone was sharp, knowing even. Roselyn recalled that the woman had never been one to miss much. “Yes, we are. He has been most, most… courteous.”
“Except when he thrashed your backside? I daresay his manners may have been a little less than courtly then, my lady.”
Roselyn considered that, but shook her head. “No. Even then he was not exactly unpleasant. It is difficult to understand, I know that, but—”
“Do you like the man, my lady?”
“What? Yes, of course I do. I respect him greatly. He is a fine laird, and—”
“You misunderstand me, Lady Roselyn. I asked, do youlikethe man?”
Roselyn clamped her lips together and sought to remind herself why she had even summoned this woman to speak to her this morning. Surely she did not wish to bare her very soul to a servant. Except—she badly needed to speak to someone and Betsy was at least a familiar presence. What was more, however blunt the maid might be, Roselyn knew the woman had her best interests at heart.
“Meggie, I wonder if you would leave us for a little while, please?”
“But milady, the laird said… I mean, he was most particular, like, that I was to look after ye.”
It was clear that the girl took her duties seriously, though Roselyn also suspected that the little maidservant was riveted by the turn the conversation had taken. However, the confidences she was about to share were not fit for such young ears. “Please, Meggie. I am sure Elspeth could make use of your help in the kitchens and I shall call for you at once if I need your assistance. And I have Freya, or if absolutely necessary Betsy can aid me. I shall be fine.”
The girl was less than happy but her mutterings of discontent were ignored. Roselyn just smiled, thanked her for all her help, and promised to tell Blair how diligently she had performed her duties. A disgruntled Meggie shuffled off in the direction of the kitchens.
“She is gone,” announced Betsy. “So now, you can tell me all about this Blair of yours. And who is Freya?”
Roselyn opted to start with the simplest question. “Freya is my dog. Is she not a beautiful creature, and so clever?”
“This dog, my lady? The one at your feet?”
“Yes.” Roselyn bent to scratch Freya’s ears. “I have trained her to guide me. She is most adept.”
“Is she? Well, I shall have to take your word for that, though I could not in all truth describe her as beautiful.”
Roselyn tilted her chin in defiance. “She is beautiful to me.”
“Then that is fine, madam. So, about the laird…?”
Yes, mused Roselyn…about the laird?
