Tempting the Highlander (25 page)

“As of yesterday you were in charge of those stores and the laird
will
hold you accountable.”

Meriel’s green eyes widened with fear of what was to come. “What can I do about it, though?”

Fallon just stared at the young woman for several seconds, dumbfounded. He knew Lady McTiernay was unusually gifted in the ways of running a castle, but he had not realized how truly blessed he was that she had not arrived to McTiernay Castle naive and clueless to castle life.

Fallon took pity on Meriel and lowered his voice to what he hoped was an amiable level. “The bottler, my lady. You need to find the butler and tell him to bring up more barrels and how many to retrieve.”

The simple answer irked Meriel enormously. Why didn’t he just state that in the first place? Why couldn’t Fallon have come into the Great Hall and said that she needed to find the bottler and have a dozen barrels added to the buttery? The man intentionally made things difficult just so he could give a lecture. He obviously thrived on them. No doubt he even tried to critique Lady McTiernay on the methods of running a castle on more than one occasion. There was no way he could help himself. “And what if I cannot find the bottler? It is obvious he has not been attending the buttery for several days. Perhaps he is sick.”

“Then, my lady, I suggest you find someone who can restock this room.”

Meriel glared at the back of Fallon’s head as he disappeared into the corridor. She was not prone to violence, but someday she was going to physically attack that man. He, too, had some lessons to learn, but a long lecture was not going to be her method of delivery.

Raelynd stifled a yawn as she threw the dripping wet leine over the bush for it to dry.

“Ah, Aileen’s finery looks clean, my lady. What you are doing for her is a mighty fine thing. I did not know that another noblewoman besides our own lady would help with such work.”

Raelynd put her hands on her hips and surveyed the meadow, which was littered with linens and clothes from the castle village. Every Tuesday, the women got together if the weather was favorable to do the wash by the riverside. Not everything got washed each week so by the time most items made it to the river, they were filthy. Work started at dawn to allow the sun most of the day to bleach and dry the laundry. Raelynd had seen the sunrise before, but only after staying up all night enjoying some festivity, certainly not because she was at work. And yet, she felt good.

“Aye,” Raelynd finally replied to the clanswoman who had laid her stuff to dry nearby. “It does look clean. I thought I would never finish. Aileen has so much more than everyone else. I wonder how a single family can accumulate so much laundry.”

The woman laughed, but it held no ridicule. “Aye, they are privileged to have so much laundry, aren’t they? I wish my man had some more undershirts and I had the bed linens to wash that you did. To live in a cottage of the commander’s size may need more tending, but it’s worth it, don’t you agree? To have all that room?” Then before Raelynd could answer, the woman waved her hand and added, “But then why am I telling you, my lady? You live in a
castle
. The small amount of wash we did this morn doesn’t compare to Thursdays when the laundress comes out with the castle linens. I’m sure it is the same where you’re from.”

The fields they had covered this morning were quite large and to think the castle laundry’s needs were even greater was hard to envision. She had never actually spoken to her laundress about where the clothes were washed or dried.

“Well, it was a pleasure to have you join us this morning, but I best get back and work on supper,” said the woman, who immediately turned to leave.

Raelynd went over to where she had stashed the wooden board, lye, and animal fat soap Aileen had given her this morning. She headed back looking forward to eating some bread and fruit after such an arduous morning.

“You have finally returned,” Aileen stated. She had made the comment in a friendly tone and with a smile, but it did not matter to Raelynd. It was rude. Aileen knew what she had been doing and the hard work was completely unappreciated.

Deciding to ignore the barb, Raelynd went over to the table and lifted the linen cloth covering the loaf of bread and pulled a piece off. She was just about to sit down and pour herself some water when Aileen asked, “What are you doing?”

Raelynd stared at her incredulously. Was Aileen’s question serious? “I’m hungry and thirsty and I was going to sit for a while. I’ve been up since dawn.”

Aileen’s eyes met Raelynd’s disparagingly as she watched Raelynd chew the bread. “I am fully aware that you have been up for a few hours, and while your efforts are appreciated, food still must be prepared and yesterday not all the cleaning was completed. The chamber pots must be washed out today.”

Raelynd was sure she had not understood correctly. She was Laird Rae Schellden’s daughter. She was Lady of Caireoch Castle. Chamber pots, garderobes, wash basins . . . these were for chambermaids. Not her. There was a limit. “I’m not cleaning a chamber pot.”

Aileen ignored the comment. “And as for the bread, I put that out for the children to nibble on once I realized you would be serving supper late today, so please do not have any more.”

Raelynd swallowed the single bite and went to pour herself a drink only to find the pitcher empty. Aileen nodded as if Raelynd was confirming there was no water, not actually desiring some. “Aye, I normally fetch some water before I leave for the river, but you can get it now. Be sure to get enough to prepare supper. Once you are done, if you are still hungry, go to the castle kitchens. I’m sure they have plenty they can give you there.”

Raelynd glared at Aileen, who appeared oblivious to the tension building in the room. She was half tempted to explain that critical comments voiced in a pleasant tone did nothing to lessen their impact; if anything it only made them worse. Instead, Raelynd rose to her feet and grabbed the bucket to head out the door. If she stayed any longer, all the negative emotions boiling inside would explode and that was about the only thing that could make this day any worse. Or so she thought.

That night Raelynd heard a tapping on the door and considered ignoring it. She was completely out of patience to talk to anyone, including her sister. Too much had happened and very little of it had been good.

The tapping continued and Raelynd stifled a groan. Meriel, when she chose to be, could be far more stubborn than anyone in their family. Rising to her feet, Raelynd went and unlatched the door to open it.

Meriel walked in and wrinkled her nose. “Lord, Lyndee, you really should bathe. You stink.”

“I may stink, but taking a bath is a waste of energy and time for tomorrow I shall only grow to smell foul again. Besides, I’m too tired to wash and dry my hair.”

Meriel made another face but then gave a shrug and went to sit down in the chair. “I understand. I have never been so tired in my life. You would not dream of everything they want me to believe Lady McTiernay does on a daily basis.”

Raelynd took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Meriel was in the mood to talk and in truth, she was not the only one. Maybe they could lean on each other to get through the next couple of days until Laurel returned. “What are they having you do?”

“Meet with the scullery maid and help select vegetables and then seek out the butcher to learn what meat is available before talking with the cook to decide on the meals.”

“It gets easier,” Raelynd said, pulling off a slipper. “I no longer even think of it as a chore. Kind of like brushing my hair.”

Meriel huffed and intertwined her fingers. “Well, that is not all. Fallon has forced me to be in charge of
everything
. He just leaves all the problems to me to solve while he handles other things. I try to meet with the various staff and give instructions, but I am constantly interrupted with problems.”

Raelynd nodded and covered her mouth in an attempt to hide her yawn. “Aye, there is always something. Just make the decision and hope it is the right one.”

Meriel twisted in the chair and gaped openly at her sister when she saw that Raelynd was serious. “
That
is the problem!
Our
chambermaids never fight or just refuse to finish their responsibilities because they feel it is unfair they have to do more work because one of them is sick.”

Raelynd wanted to ask at what castle did her sister live in, for it certainly wasn’t Caireoch. “It’s not exactly uncommon.”

“It isn’t?” Meriel asked in disbelief. “Well, what about moles? Do you have to chase those nasty little burrowing creatures in our garden? Do we even have a garden?”

Raelynd couldn’t believe Meriel’s questions. Had her sister truly never ventured into any of the working areas of Caireoch? “Aye, we have a garden. A large one. Remember you complaining about the bees earlier this year and I said it was because the fruit trees were blooming? Where did you think those trees were?”

Meriel crinkled her forehead and then shrugged. “I thought they were out in the fields, with the farms, where they grew the food.”

Raelynd began to undo her long braid and massaged her scalp, not knowing how to respond. “Did you get to meet with the weavers?” she asked, hoping for a more positive topic.

“Not once!” Meriel moaned. “The candle maker ran out of what he needed and told me he could make the candles from beeswax. I thought that was a splendid idea, but—”

Raelynd gasped. “You didn’t give him permission, did you?”

“I did. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Either find some tallow or have some made. The candle maker should have been keeping track of what was in storage, warning you or the steward when he was low.”

Upset with Raelynd’s tone, Meriel furrowed her brow and said through gritted teeth, “Well, he didn’t. So he used beeswax and now Fallon says Laird McTiernay will be furious with me.”

Raelynd bent over to slip off her other shoe, mumbling, “I bet he will be.” Beeswax burned much cleaner than tallow, but animal fat was much easier and far cheaper to use, especially in large quantities. Raelynd had standing instructions to use beeswax in select areas at select times.

“But that will be nothing compared to when he learns that I approved of Father Lanaghly’s request to use the extra material I saw in the storage rooms to remake all the cushions in the chapel. You won’t believe me, but Fallon’s face turned almost a deep purple. I truly thought he was going to pass out.”

Raelynd collapsed on the bed. “If I could trade your day for mine, I would, but you would hate me, for what I am doing is far harder than anything I have ever done before.”

“Just what are you doing?”

Everything,
Raelynd thought. “Cooking, cleaning, washing. I even have to get the water.”

“Ugh.”

Meriel’s response was appropriate, but if she had been clueless about castle responsibilities, there was no way she could imagine the work and the effort Raelynd was expending. “The work is awful and hard, but that is not what truly bothers me. It’s Aileen.”

“She seems so nice.”

“And that’s just how she relays every criticism—nicely. Not once has she said thank you or good job or I appreciate all that you are doing. She just says ‘Please don’t eat the bread, it is for others,’” Raelynd said, sarcastically mimicking the sweet tone. “Or ‘You missed a spot, please redo the table.’ Or ‘You are finally back’ after hours of me bending over a board in the river to clean
her
family’s clothes!”

Meriel chuckled and leaned back in the chair. The sound infuriated Raelynd, who sprang back up to a sitting position. “Just what is so funny about how I am being treated?” she demanded. “I at least tried to sympathize with you, though not a single thing you mentioned isn’t something that I deal with almost on a daily basis!”

“I was
laughing
at you because I have heard you say
those very same things
to our servants!” Meriel shouted back, feeling no need to spare her sister’s feelings after Raelynd had shown no mercy. “
And
you also use that same fake cheerful voice, thinking that it will make what you are saying so much better. I’m sure our servants feel the same way about it as you do.”

Both sisters stared at each other in horror. They rarely fought and when they did it was over something minor. The last time they had attacked each other’s character with such honesty had been prior to their mother’s death. Such loss brought out their protective natures and both intentionally insulated the other when and where possible to keep them from getting hurt.

Meriel bit her bottom lip in mortification. “Oh, Lyndee, I’m so sorry. I just never knew your job was so hard, so . . . exhausting. I’ve never been so miserable.”

Raelynd brushed away a tear. “I’m sorry too. I know how hard it is to do what you are being asked. I still make mistakes, so don’t worry about it too much. I think we both just need some sleep.”

Meriel sniffled and then nodded in agreement. After a quick but reassuring hug, she left, leaving Raelynd to play over and over again Meriel’s accusation.

You say those very same things to our servants.

Raelynd found it hard to believe she had not connected Aileen’s behavior to her own. Meriel had been mad, and her intent had been to lash out, not be instructive, but her sister was right. She spoke to those in the castle just as Aileen did to her. She had no idea how completely infuriating it was. Crevan had mentioned it many times, but in all honesty, she had not believed him, even though she had always felt the undercurrent of disrespect from the servants. No one ever did anything outright, just as she had not openly defied Aileen, but acquiescence was not agreement and certainly not the equivalent of respect.

Crevan had tried so many times to explain how her sweet tone may have been better than a nasty one, but it was no substitute for sincerity. That genuine appreciation could win even the hardest of personalities.
Sincerity and appreciation,
Raelynd thought to herself as she unlaced her kirtle before removing it.