Highland Storms (10 page)

He gave her a measuring stare. ‘Really? Are the men around here blind then?’

Marsaili blinked, then felt her cheeks heat up at what must have been a compliment. He was confusing her, angry one minute and praising her looks the next. ‘I … no,’ she stammered. ‘But I am a very capable housekeeper and if you’re worried about my respectability because I’m not married yet, then you can ask the mistress. I’m sure she’d vouch for me and –’

‘
Miss
Buchanan,’ he interrupted. ‘That is not the issue at the moment. I am more interested in what happened outside than in your marital status. I’d like to make it absolutely clear I will not tolerate any interference from you whatsoever in future if I’m engaged in a brawl. Understood?’

‘
But …’

‘
None
, Miss Buchanan. It would be most unwise of you to get involved and I can assure you it wasn’t my intention to seriously hurt young Mr Seton.’

‘
That’s not what it looked like,’ Marsaili muttered.

‘
You’ll have to take my word for it.’

She nodded reluctantly, but couldn’t resist adding, ‘Do you intend to “brawl” often, then?’

His mouth twitched slightly as if her remark had amused him, but it was gone so fast she might have imagined it. ‘No, not if I can help it,’ he said. ‘It will depend entirely on whether the rest of the males here are as hot-headed as young Seton.’

Marsaili had to admit he had a point. Iain had over-reacted and it wasn’t the first time this had happened. She hoped it was the last. She returned her gaze to the new laird whose eyes seemed to have lost some of the martial light in them.

‘
Now, if you wish to keep your position as housekeeper, I’d like some straight answers to a few questions please,’ he said.

Marsaili gasped. ‘Of course I do, but … what sort of questions?’

‘
Well, you could start by telling me in what capacity Iain Seton is employed here?’

‘
Wouldn’t you be better off asking the factor about such things?’

‘
Maybe, but I’m asking you.’ He steepled his fingers together and leaned his chin on them, his blue gaze fixed on her in a most disconcerting fashion. Marsaili didn’t understand what game he was playing now, but decided she might as well humour him.

‘
Very well. Iain is one of the men in charge of the cattle, among other things.’

The new laird looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I see. Shouldn’t he be up on the shieling then, instead of loitering in the courtyard attacking strangers?’

‘
Well, no, everyone’s come down from there by now, but I suppose he ought to have been in the pasture, making sure the cattle don’t get into the crops.’ Marsaili felt a flush spread across her cheeks, although why she was embarrassed on Iain’s behalf she had no idea. It wasn’t her fault if Kirsty’s intended shirked his duties to spend time with his beloved. That was for the young man’s father to sort out.

‘
I take it he’s Kirsty’s husband? And yet he’s merely a cattle herder. That seems a bit odd.’

‘
Oh, they’re not married yet. She lives here with her mother, of course, and Iain has been here since his father took over as factor. He’s learning how to be one as well. Factor, I mean. Perhaps that’s why he was around.’ She saw Brice frown.

‘
But Kirsty must be getting a bit long in the tooth, if you’ll pardon my saying so. She’s, what, twenty-six?’

Marsaili shrugged. ‘Yes, but sadly they can’t afford to marry. Soon, hopefully, but Iain’s father controls the purse strings so they have to wait until he agrees.’

‘
What about Kirsty’s dowry? Wasn’t that enough?’

Marsaili looked at him. ‘Have you forgotten, my lord? She has no dowry. This house and everything in it was your father’s and now I gather it’s yours. Her own father had nothing to leave her.’

For some reason this explanation seemed to make him very angry, although Marsaili had no idea why. His expression darkened as before and she saw him clenching his jaw. ‘I see,’ he said, his voice clipped and cold.

He was silent for a while, as if mulling this over, and Marsaili ventured to ask, ‘Will that be all then, my lord? I have duties to attend to.’ She sincerely hoped this was true and he wasn’t intending to replace her with someone else.

He took a deep breath and fixed her with his piercing gaze again. She felt the palms of her hands grow moist and wondered if he was about to dismiss her. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly in order to stay calm.

‘
Ah, yes, your duties. How long have you been the housekeeper here, if I may ask?’ he said.

She lifted her chin a fraction. ‘For four years,’ she said. ‘And no one’s complained so far,’ she added for good measure.
Except Mr Seton, but he doesn’t count as he complains about everything.

‘
Really? Perhaps this room is never in use then,’ he commented, a sarcastic note in his voice which she took exception to.

‘
What do you mean?’

He pointed to the fireplace. ‘Cobwebs. A pile of old ash that hasn’t been swept up.’ He indicated the rest of the room. ‘Hangings which haven’t been taken outside and beaten for what looks like years. Dirt everywhere. A general air of neglect. If this is how you take care of your duties, I’ll need a very good excuse to keep you on.’

Marsaili swallowed hard. He was right, damn him, but she couldn’t tell him the real reason the hall had been allowed to get into such a state was that Seton thought it better if Rosyth House didn’t look too prosperous to any visitors. He’d reasoned that the shabbier it seemed, the less likely it was anyone would want to appropriate it. Looking around her, she wasn’t so sure any longer.

‘
This room hasn’t been used for many years,’ she said finally. ‘The mistress takes her meals upstairs in her private quarters with her daughters, so everyone else eats in the kitchen.’

‘
Daughters? Are you telling me Flora isn’t married either?’

Marsaili blinked. ‘Well, no, she isn’t. Like I told you, there was no money for dowries. Flora looks after her mother.’

‘
Damn it all to hell,’ he swore and shot to his feet, startling her into standing up as well. ‘Someone will pay for this.’

Marsaili didn’t know what he meant, but she was sure of one thing – she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath.

She wondered how soon it would be before she could escape from his presence?

Brice took a deep breath and tried to calm down, running a hand through his hair distractedly. He noticed Marsaili’s startled look and realised she must think him a madman or at the very least, exceedingly rude.

‘
I apologise,’ he said curtly. ‘I didn’t mean to swear in front of a lady.’

But damn and double damn!
He was sure his father had told him he’d sent dowries for the girls years ago. Five thousand merks each, wasn’t it? So why hadn’t they arrived? It was one thing for the estate to be mismanaged, that could be pure laziness on the part of the factor and others. But for a large sum of money to go missing, that was altogether different.

It was outright theft and punishable by law.

Marsaili watched him with wary eyes as he paced in front of the fireplace and Brice forced himself to return to the matter at hand. The dowries could wait, the great hall couldn’t. ‘Whether Aunt Ailsa chooses to eat downstairs or not, I’d like the rest of us to use this room from now on,’ he stated. ‘I want it cleaned and made ready for supper today, if possible. You may hire extra help from the township if needed. I’ll make sure they’re paid. Can you also ask the cook to prepare a feast for everyone, please? And I mean everyone, from the township or anywhere else on the estate, if they’ve a mind to come. There should be victuals aplenty over there, so none of her watery, tasteless broths, if you please, or she’ll find herself without employment and all.’ He gestured towards the huge pile of goods stacked by the front door.

‘
As you wish. Do I take it I am still employed then?’ Marsaili’s gaze challenged him, but he’d had enough of fighting for one day. He was tired of being angry, especially after recent events.

‘
Yes. For now.’ Before she had a chance to protest at this caveat, he motioned for her to follow him. ‘Shall we make a start on sorting out the provisions I brought? Some of it should probably be stowed where it’s cooler and the doves will need to go to their new home.’

‘
Doves?’ Marsaili goggled at the many crates, barrels and sacks as if she hadn’t seen that much food stuff in a long time, if ever.

‘
Yes, I saw the empty dovecote out back last time I was here and I thought it a shame there were no inhabitants. They make a tasty pie every once in a while, don’t you think? But I’m guessing it will need to be cleaned as well.’

‘
Indeed. I’m surprised you noticed. You’ve been very thorough with your purchases.’

Her eyes opened even wider as she took in the rest of what he’d brought. Now he’d calmed down, Brice noticed again how green her irises were. The colour of new moss in the forest, he thought. He remembered that they’d seemed magnificent when she was in a temper, but even without the extra sparkle, they were beautiful. And unlike most redheads, she had dark lashes which further emphasised their perfection. He shook his head and pushed these thoughts aside, telling himself he wasn’t interested in her undoubted charms.

He had been thorough when planning what to buy, that was true. Apart from sacks of oats, barley, rye and dried peas, he’d bought several sugar cones, a dozen smoked hams, salt, spices, root vegetables, brandy, wine and even some chocolate. A crate with a grille at the front contained the doves and there were four more with two dozen hens, clucking distractedly. Last, but not least, there was an exotic looking wooden chest.

When Marsaili spied it, she exclaimed, ‘Is that … it’s not tea, is it?’

‘
Yes, but only one chest. I can always buy more if it’s not enough,’ Brice replied.

She stared at him as if he’d grown horns. ‘Are you mad? I mean … begging your pardon, but that’ll last us for ever.’

‘
Really? My mother drinks it by the gallon, I swear. I thought all you ladies were the same.’ Brice didn’t mind the odd cup with honey added, but he much preferred ale.

‘
But it’s so expensive,’ Marsaili protested.

Brice couldn’t help but smile at her awe. ‘Not if you bring it from China yourself,’ he said. ‘Which I did.’ He picked up the chest and hefted it onto his shoulder. ‘But if you think it’s so valuable, you’d better keep it locked up somewhere. Shall I take it to your room?’

‘
My room?’ She turned an interesting shade of pink. ‘No, no that won’t be necessary. The cook keeps the larder locked, it should be safe enough in there. Or I can have it taken up to Mrs Kinross later. It will be for her to dispense it.’

‘
Very well, lead the way.’

‘
You want to go to the kitchen?’

‘
Why not? It will be done faster this way. Or is the kitchen in an even sorrier state than this room?’

She sent him a withering look. ‘No, it’s spotless. Follow me.’

She picked up a heavy sack without much effort and Brice was impressed with her strength. It would seem she actually did her fair share of the housework and didn’t just oversee things, the way Elisabet had always done in her father’s house. He almost laughed out loud at the thought of his former beloved ever doing anything so strenuous. She would never have been able to lift a sack such as the one Marsaili was carrying, but then again, she wouldn’t have wanted to. He frowned as he realised he’d never thought about this before. It wasn’t a side to Elisabet he would have tolerated when they were married, but why had he assumed he’d be able to change her? He was no longer sure it would have been possible.

Oh, what does it matter anyway?
He should forget all about Elisabet.

Marsaili headed for the kitchen and Brice followed. He could have found his way there by himself, but he decided the view was better from behind her and he must learn to appreciate such sights if he was to have any chance of burying the past. He gave himself a pat on the back for noticing the graceful swing of her hips as she walked and the perfect proportions of her body. For so long he had been blind to the charms of other women, but he was a free man now. There was no harm in looking at the housekeeper, even if she was already spoken for. As long as he didn’t act on the lascivious thoughts she evoked.

Besides, anything was better than dwelling on what might have been.

Chapter Nine

Marsaili couldn’t understand this man at all. One minute he was giving orders and telling her off for interfering in his business and the next he was helping her carry goods to the kitchen. From what she’d been told, the old laird had never so much as set foot in any domestic part of the house, let alone helped with anything. It would have been far beneath his dignity. But this one didn’t seem to care.

She was further confounded when Liath came bounding over to Brice and greeted him like a long-lost friend with a series of happy barks. The dog had been occupying his usual spot in an alcove near the cooking range, but jumped up the moment he spotted Brice and danced around with excitement.

‘
Liath, behave!’ Marsaili said sternly, but just like the last time, the dog ignored her. He focused all his attention on Brice, who put down the chest and knelt to make a fuss of Liath, scratching behind his ears.