A Dangerous Love (28 page)

“I have some sheep, some cattle; we raid, and hire out our swords,” he answered.

“There are no other women?” she said.

“Nay,” he answered her.

“Why not?” Adair wanted to know.

“No need for them,” the laird replied, “except perhaps a cook.”

“Men cannot keep a house,” Adair remarked.

“Aye, I’ve come to realize that, but my men are lusty lads. Every cook I’ve had since Mam died has been sent off with a big belly,” he admitted.

“If that is the case, what is to become of me? I won’t be prey to your men, sir,” Adair said firmly. “I am no whore.”

“Are you really a countess?” he asked her. “The Countess of Stanton?”

“I was until King Henry stripped me of my title,”

Adair said.

“King Henry? I thought your king was Richard,” the laird said.

“King Richard was slain at Market Bosworth, and Henry Tudor now claims England’s throne. Andrew, my husband, fought for King Richard. He was killed, and I was punished for it. Now I am plain Mistress Radcliffe,” Adair explained to him. She did not tell him that her lands had been taken from her, for she refused to accept it.

“So you’re no virgin,” he remarked.

“Nay, I am not,” Adair responded.

“Good,” the laird replied.

“I am not a whore, sir,” Adair repeated.

“My lord,” he corrected her. “I am Conal Bruce, the laird of Cleit. Women are useful for cooking, for cleaning, for washing, and for bedding. Naught else. I did not buy you to save you, Adair Radcliffe. You must earn your keep.”

“I will keep your house for you, my lord,” Adair answered him, “but I will not be your whore. I will clean and scrub for you. I have all the talents of a lady born, and know how to manage a household. My father was King Edward.”

“But your mother was not Edward’s queen, I suspect. Your mother was that king’s whore, and you will be mine. Beneath the dirt and grime, beneath the swelling and the bruising you suffered at the hands of Willie Douglas, you are a beautiful woman. I have a sharp eye, Adair. You now belong to me, and I will use you as I see fit. However, I think you will need time to recover from your recent tribulations, and I am content to wait until you do so. If my lust overcomes me in the interim I shall go and visit the cottage of Agnes Carr, like all the men do.”

“How reassuring it is for me to find you are such a gentleman, my lord,” Adair said pithily. “And in the meantime you will give me leave to be your housekeeper, I assume. I shall do my best to serve you.”

He laughed as they crossed the little drawbridge of the keep and entered beneath the portcullis into the courtyard. “I shall expect nothing but the best from you, Adair.” And, pulling his horse to a stop, he slid easily from his saddle, turning to lift her down. “Welcome to Cleit, Adair Radcliffe,” he said.

It was not Stanton, Adair thought, looking about the dusty courtyard of the keep. It was grim and dirty. The stable did not appear particularly sturdy, and the scrawny chickens scratching about in the dirt had obviously not been well cared for in recent weeks. It would not be difficult to hate Cleit.

“Murdoc,” the laird called to his younger brother, who was now struggling with all the supplies they had purchased at the fair, “show Elsbeth and Adair to the kitchens.” He looked at Elsbeth and said sternly, “I’ll expect that roast goose for my supper.”

Young Murdoc gestured to the two women and led them into the keep. “He’s not as hard as he sounds,” he told them. “Serve him well, and you’ll find he’s a good master. He doesn’t beat his servants,” Murdoc reassured them.

They followed him down a small flight of steps from the outside of the keep and into a kitchen. There was no fire in the hearth, and much of the equipment was dirty and in a jumbled heap. The two women looked about despairingly.

“You’ll need some wood for the fire,” Murdoc said, seeing their distress.

“And water,” Elsbeth said. “Where is the well, laddie?”

“Here in the kitchens,” he said. “Our mother did a wonderful thing and had a well dug, for she said much time was wasted running back and forth into the court-

yard for water, especially in bad weather. She also didn’t like the servant girls lingering to talk with the men. She thought it led to trouble, and more often than not she was right.” He grinned engagingly. “I’ll go get you some wood, and start a fire.” He dashed off.

“As soon as I learn the lay of this land,” Adair said when he had gone, “I’ll plan our escape. We must get back to Stanton before the snows.”

“I’ll not see Stanton again,” Elsbeth said fatalistically.

“Nursie!” Adair cried, suddenly frightened.

“Oh, do not fret, child,” Elsbeth replied. “I’m not dying, nor am I likely to anytime soon, but I know in my heart that I’ll not see Stanton again. Nor will you. There is nothing to go back to, Adair. The hall is gone. Not a stone of it remains, and there are weeds growing where it once stood. The few Stanton folk remaining are old, infirm, or too young to help you rebuild. If they survive the winter it will be a miracle. And most of the men were slaughtered in the orchard or by the cattle barns.

The king has not relented in his punishment. Your lands are gone. Your title is gone. Stanton is gone.”

“Then what am I to do?” Adair cried, feeling the tears pricking at her eyelids.

“For now you will help me clean this kitchen, and prepare the laird his roasted goose,” Elsbeth said. “I am too tired to think beyond that, and so are you. Come, and let us look about to see where we may begin.”

They discovered a pantry where dishes and food could be stored. But it was empty of any foodstuffs. Elsbeth shook her head but said nothing. There was a cold larder where game could be hung, but there was no game hanging. Elsbeth muttered something beneath her breath that Adair could not distinguish. When they reentered the kitchens young Murdoc had returned and begun a fire for them in the great hearth. He was stack-ing more wood in the woodbox.

“Thank you, laddie,” Elsbeth said. She turned to Adair. “Find me a cauldron so I can begin heating some 
water, and we can begin to clean some of this muck.

’Twill not all be done in a day, but I’ll need enough things to cook supper. Where is the spit?”

“Let me help you,” Murdoc said. “I’ll get the water for you.”

Adair sought among the jumble of cooking equipment and finally found a large cauldron. It was heavy, and she struggled to bring it over to the hearth. Together she and Elsbeth hung it, and Murdoc drew bucket after bucket of water, which he then brought across the kitchen and poured into the great kettle.

When the kettle had been filled he brought a bucket of water and set it on the big kitchen table along with the foodstuffs.

Then he left them.

“A well-brought-up laddie,” Elsbeth noted.

They cleared the table briefly, and scrubbed it with boiling water. They had no sand or soap, and Elsbeth mumbled that this kitchen was poorly fitted, and things were going to have to change. The table finally cleaned, Elsbeth set Adair to crumbling one of the loaves while she chopped apples and pears. Murdoc returned to say that his brother, the laird, wanted to know if they had all they needed.

Elsbeth exploded. “Nay, laddie, we most certainly do not. I need butter and cream, among other things. There isn’t a scrap of food in the pantry. Not even an onion!”

“I can go into the village over the hill and fetch you butter and cream, Mistress Elsbeth. I think there might be some onions, leeks, or shallots in my mother’s old kitchen garden. You’ll find it through the larder door,” 
Murdoc said.

“I’ll go,” Adair said. The little garden was overgrown, but amid the weeds she found a treasure of herbs and root vegetables. Adair resolved to weed the garden on the morrow and, discovering a row of onions, pulled a few to bring inside. “The garden is there, and I’ll start to restore it tomorrow,” she told Elsbeth. “We’ll harvest
 
what we can, and prepare the garden for next spring,” 
she said enthusiastically.

“Good,” Elsbeth responded. “Now clear away all this clutter for me, dearie, and I’ll begin to prepare the goose.” She was relieved that Adair had stopped speaking about returning to Stanton. It did not mean she was not contemplating it, but for now, at least, she would not act rashly or foolishly. There was nothing left at Stanton for her mistress, and while she had not been born and raised to be a servant, at least Adair was safe for the time being. Elsbeth had seen the way the laird had looked at the girl. Who knew what could come of it? But at least that was a new direction, and all the old directions that they had once followed had come to naught.

Adair gathered up all the kitchen accoutrements and moved them to the pantry, since there was nothing in it at this point. She sought three pewter plates among the disorder, and mugs and spoons. These she put in a stone sink and, taking water from the kettle over the fire, poured it over the tableware. She let them soak and the water cool until she was able to wash and dry them.

“How many men will be in the hall, do you think?” she asked Elsbeth. “You can’t feed all of them with one goose.”

“You’ll have to go up and ask the laird,” Elsbeth said.

“Me?”
Adair answered.

“I’m trying to cook here, child. Go on now. The man won’t eat you. Not the way you look and smell,” Elsbeth said bluntly. “You’re hardly an enticing treat.”

“I know,” Adair replied. “Do you think I can get a bath after everyone has been fed? And where are we to lay our heads, Nursie?”

“Go and ask the master how many in the hall for supper, and then we’ll have another look about. Usually there’s a sleeping space or two for the help.”

Adair was saved a trip to the hall at that moment by the arrival of young Murdoc Bruce, who was accompanied by two boys.

“I’ve brought cream, butter, and a wheel of cheese,”

he announced, very pleased with himself. He directed his companions to place the requested items on the big table.

“Bless you, laddie,” Elsbeth said. “Now tell me, how many must I feed tonight? This poor wee goose is barely enough for you and your brothers.”

“Oh, lord, Mistress Elsbeth, there will be at least twenty men besides my brothers and me,” Murdoc said.

“What can you do?”

Suddenly Adair spoke up. “Can you fish, sir?”

Murdoc grinned. “Aye. ’Tis only after the noon hour.

I’ll go and catch a few trout. Can you make do with some fish, Mistress Elsbeth?”

“I can,” she told him, and with a wave he was gone, taking the two boys with him.

“Go into the kitchen garden and see what you can find to put in the pot, child,” Elsbeth told her mistress.

“And then you’ll have to find something to serve the food on, as we have no trenchers. And utensils.”

Adair went into the pantry and found a hanging basket. Taking it outside with her, she searched the little garden. She found carrots and some small cabbages, and dug a few more onions. She also picked some parsley and dill. Someone had obviously kept the garden for a time after the death of the laird’s mother or else there would have been no vegetables. She had spotted both spinach and lettuce among the weeds. Taking her finds back into the kitchen, she prepared them at Elsbeth’s direction. Adair wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with cooking. Stanton had not been an overly formal household. She had finally finished paring and cutting the vegetables, and then dusted off a stack of wooden plates she had discovered on a high shelf in the pantry by the time Murdoc returned carrying a goodly string of fish. And while he cleaned the fish for Elsbeth, Adair took a cloth and small bucket of water and crept up the stairs into the hall. To her relief it was empty. Hurrying
 
to the high board, she scrubbed it down as best she could.

When the laird of Cleit sat down to his table that night he was very surprised to discover the meal set before him. There was a goose roasted and stuffed with bread, apples, and pears; a broiled trout sprinkled with dill; a potage of vegetables, bread, butter, cheese, and baked apples with heavy golden cream. His men at the trestles below were oddly silent, and he wondered why.

“What are they eating?” he asked Murdoc.

“Elsbeth made them a savory stew of vegetables and fish; and there is bread and cheese, and stewed apples,”

Murdoc said. “She says she would like to speak with you after the meal in the kitchens, if it would please you.”

“Why were you in the kitchens?” the laird wanted to know. “You are not to go sniffing around either of those two women. I’ll not have it!”

Murdoc burst out laughing. “You need not worry, big brother,” he said. “Elsbeth is more maternal than seductive. As for her companion, I saw the way you looked at her, though I cannot see what you find so alluring about the wench. She’s sharp-tongued, short-tempered, and smells like a cesspit. But part of your good dinner is thanks to me. I brought the wood and started the fire in the hearth again. It had been allowed to go out.
And
I caught the fish you so enjoyed, and that our men enjoyed.”

“Oh,” Conal Bruce said.

Duncan Armstrong chuckled as he spooned the

baked apples and cream up from his plate. “I think we have a treasure in this Elsbeth,” he said.

“Aye,” the laird admitted. “Perhaps she was worth the half groat Willie Douglas wanted, though I should never tell him that.”

In the kitchens Elsbeth and Adair ate a supper of vegetable potage and toasted cheese and bread. They were tired, not just from their long day, but from the last few days. Adair had wept for several hours after they 
left Stanton, but since then she had hardened herself to whatever was going to come. Finally Elsbeth stood up.

“I’ll go up to the hall and collect the plates and spoons,” she said. “You get some hot water in that stone sink.” She bustled off up the stairs. When she returned some minutes later carrying a pile of plates she was followed by young Murdoc, who was aiding her, and had an armful of goblets and spoons. “Thank you, dearie,”

Elsbeth said to him. “Now run along back upstairs, and join the rest of the men. I do thank you for all the good help you have given us today.”