Page 22 of At the Highlander's Mercy
Footsteps down the long corridor drew her attention. From the sound, she thought it might be Beathas. When the door opened, it was the old woman who entered, carrying a basket on her arm.
‘You look better this morn, dearie,’ she said with a smile. ‘Let me have a look at your head.’
She pointed at the chair, so Lilidh sat and let her examine the lump that felt less swollen now than yesterday. And each touch felt less sharp than it had even the night before. A good sign, she hoped.
‘Does your head still ache?’ Beathas asked her.
‘Not so much this morn.’ A few moments later, the examination was done.
‘How are the bruises?’ The old woman’s gaze softened as it fell on her neck and face.
Lilidh shrugged. As long as she did not press or explore them, she did not feel them. ‘’Tis well.’
A niggling feeling that Beathas thought Rob responsible for something more than he was bothered her again. The harsh treatment of Symon and his men caused the bruises—Beathas must know that because she saw to her needs from the first. But the woman’s sympathy spoke of something else.
Desperate to divert Beathas’s attention to the matter, she stammered out a question instead.
‘Why was I not summoned to the kitchens this morn? It must be quickly approaching midday,’ she said, accepting the brush from Beathas and beginning to tame the unruly curls on her head now that the dressing had been removed.
‘The laird has given new orders,’ she began. ‘You are to remain here after all.’
‘He has? I am?’ Rob had seemed resolute last night, and now?
‘Aye. You are to stay in this chamber and the corridor. He said you can walk the length of it if need be,’ Beathas explained. The woman watched her closely as she explained Rob’s new commands about her. Did she think him trying to assuage the guilt from other actions by being kinder now?
‘Did anyone argue with him when he ordered this change?’ she asked. Surely Symon and his sister would.
‘Did not listen to them,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘He brushed their words aside and said there were too many ways for you to escape through the kitchens. Safer to keep you in here, where no one could get to you and you could no’ get far.’
With her leg as it was, she could not get down the steps to escape. Hmmm. She had not thought about escape possibilities from the kitchen when she’d been there. She needed to use her mind and keep an eye open for such opportunities. It would take some time for her father to plan his attack and she needed to use that to discover whatever she could about the Mathesons’strengths and weaknesses. She knew he would try to negotiate first because she was being held.
So, she would also try to encourage Rob to look for a peaceful way out of this situation for all of them before the MacLeries arrived in force.
Beathas finished just as Siusan arrived carrying a large basket of clothing and another smaller basket filled with threads and sewing supplies. Lilidh stood to greet her.
‘Your work for the day,’ Siusan announced, putting it near the chair on the floor and handing her the smaller basket. If the woman was pleased not to have Lilidh under foot in the kitchens, Lilidh could not tell. Her tone gave no hint of her feelings on the matter.
‘What is this?’ she asked, reaching into the basket and pulling out a tunic.
‘His lairdship’s laundry, of course. For you to repair.’ Lilidh dropped it back in the basket and looked at
Siusan. ‘He has no wife and there is no lady in charge of such things yet.’
‘Tyra does not oversee this for Rob?’
‘Their betrothal is only a recent thing. Mayhap once this is all settled.’
Betrothal? Rob was betrothed to that woman and never said anything to her? No small wonder that the lady reacted as she had to Lilidh’s presence in the hall. Especially if she believed Rob and Lilidh were lovers. Wives usually had to learn forbearance when it came to other women their husbands chose and, in the case of lairds and chiefs and nobles, those other women could be quite public.
Still, betrothed to that woman? A topic to discuss with the man who now claimed her as his and not for this servant’s ears.
‘From the kitchens to this,’ she said, bringing their conversation back to the task before her. ‘Is he not afraid I’ll sew all the seams shut? Can I be trusted with scissors?’
‘Lady Tyra raised those very questions to the laird.’
She could see the mirth in the older woman’s blue eyes. Oh, to have been a witness to this scene! It would have almost made things funny. Almost. ‘And?’
‘She will not be raising those questions again,’ she explained. ‘The laird made it clear what her position in his hall is and what is his.’
