Page 31 of Bride takes a Scot

“Whilst your husband is gone, I suggest ye make yourself busy if ye do not deem to take a lover. There is much that needs doing here, and I suppose ye will be as good as a scullery maid.”

Since she’d been young enough to attend to chores, her mother had insisted that she learn how to properly clean and tend to household matters to better understand how a home was cared for. Performing such tasks didn’t bother Isabella because it had kept her busy and she was able to be around the younger maids.

The woman’s haughtiness, though, bothered her. Instead of rebuking her for calling her a scullery maid, she took a deep breath and squeezed her hands closed. “I would be pleased to help in any way you deem so, My Lady.”

“See Edith and she shall put ye to work for I am busy enough with my own chores.”

Dismissed, Isabella couldn’t escape fast enough. She hurried out the back of the cottage and crossed the path to the kitchen and servant quarters. With a knock, she then opened the door and found Edith humming over a large pot, hanging over the fire. She startled as the door opened.

Isabella reached out a comforting hand. “Good day, Edith. Lady MacKendrick said you needed help and bade me to offer my aid to you. I’m here to lend a hand.”

Edith gasped and blinked with surprise. “She did? Why in heaven’s name would that wretched woman send me help? She never did so afore—and ye are our laird’s wife. Ye should not be doing common chores. Oh, that horrid woman is scheming, is she not? Come, rest yourself, we shall enjoy a warm drink of mead, and ye can tell me all about yourself.”

A sense of comfort settled over Isabella like a blanket, for it appeared that finally, she’d found a friend. Edith had the softest voice, without a hint of an accent. Her eyes were kind and her smile sure, not at all like most of the women she’d encountered so far in the Highlands. Though the woman had to be at least two score in age, she had no gray hairs mixed in the strands of her light-brown hair that was tied back behind her shoulders. Close enough now to discern, Isabella peered at her ash-brown eyes and smiled at the pleasant woman.

She sat on the stool at the worktable and took the offered cup. The mead tasted sweet and it made her feel as though she was wrapped in the coziness of the kitchen. The maid’s kind words also warmed her, bringing tears to her eyes that she hastily blinked away. “There is not much to tell.”

“Anse said that the king commanded ye to wed our laird. Is that so?” Edith leaned forward in anticipation. There were deep crinkles in the corners of her sparkling dark eyes; this was a woman who smiled often and enjoyed a good story, Isabella could tell.

She nodded. “It was, but I was fortunate Declan selected me. He was the only man who interested me and now I hardly see him. He keeps to himself, and I wish…” It seemed like ages ago since she had her first conversation with Declan. She should refrain from speaking about him to the maid, but she needed to talk to someone about her feelings and the maid seemed caring.

“Aye, ye might not think so now, but give Declan time and he shall grow on ye.”

“He already has. I find him kind—”

Edith chuckled. “He was a much different man when his da and ma were living. Aye, always smiling, always helpful to all. Now he separates himself from everyone except from Anse, but they have been friends since birth. Your marriage is new and ye will love him eventually.”

Isabella snorted at that. “I am fond of him, but I doubt I shall ever love him. Love is for fools. I don’t mean to sound shrewish, and I will respect him, but shall never be so misguided.”

“If ye say so, Milady. Sometimes, lass, a woman has no choice but to give her heart to her man, especially when he needs it.” Edith took an instrument from the table and began to beat a heaping piece of meat that had sat on the worktable. She whacked it so hard the table shook and a bowl which held fruit wobbled. “I understand your notion well, for I was married once a very long time ago to a man by the border. I did not love him. Tell me, do ye come from a large family?”

Edith had lived by the border. Isabella had wondered why she spoke English well and why her accent wasn’t as thick as most of the MacKendricks. Isabella appeased the woman and spoke of her home and family. Just speaking of them made her miss her parents even more. How wrong she had been to want to escape them. At least her family admired her and appreciated her banter and reprimands. Even her mother—though difficult and disapproving—was fond of her, and Isabella even missedher daily lectures. What she wouldn’t give to hear her mother’s reproach now.

Edith set the tool she used down on the table and sat on a stool near Isabella. She handed her a knife and a loaf of bread. “Ye can help but cutting this bread.” She then took another loaf and began to slice it. “Ye were blessed and shall be so again. Give our laird time, lass, and ye shall see. Declan has been brokenhearted and suffered a great deal of pain when his late wife died. Then shortly after, his da passed. He has been in mourning, but alas, ’tis time for him to shake off the cobwebs and rejoin the living. I deem ye shall do well to enliven him.” She smiled and clasped Isabella’s hand. “How could ye not when you are so bonny and spirited.”

“What do you mean spirited?” Isabella hoped she didn’t present a wayward manner.

Edith finished slicing the bread and took an apple from the fruit bowl and began cutting it up. “For the pies I’ll bake later.” She handed her an apple.

Isabella cut up the apple similarly to the way Edith did and placed the pieces in a bowl. They finished the task and she peered about to see what else she could do to help the woman.

“’Tis not wicked to be spirited. I see the liveliness in your eyes, lass. You seek adventure and merriment. Aye, we should all be young and winsome.”

“You are kind, Edith, to say so.”

“Go on, lass, supper is ready and I’ll bring it in shortly.”

Isabella got up from the table and was about to leave when Noah ran through the doorway with tears in his eyes. He rushed to her and sniffled. Isabella noticed the reason for his tears. Noah had a scraped knee, and a thin stream of blood ran down his leg. Isabella lifted him and set him on the stool she had vacated. Edith handed her a cloth which she set over his knee and bade him to hold it by placing his hand there.

With her fingers, she raised his chin and spoke slowly, “Stay here. I will be back.” Isabella then asked Edith to watch him whilst she stepped out. She hurried to her bedchamber, retrieved her medicinal pouch from her satchel, and returned to the kitchen. Noah was still on the stool, looking as hurt as ever with fresh tears running down his cheeks.

She knelt near enough to him and gently wiped the blood from his wound. Soon enough, she had the wound tended to with a soothing salve and a thin bandage covering his knee. He appeared gleeful that he wore the proof of his injury, a badge of honor.

“There,” she said slowly, watching his face for understanding. “You are all better now.” Isabella put the items she’d pulled from her medicinal satchel back inside and pulled the strap over her shoulder.

Edith clasped her hands and raised them to her chest. “Milady, I didn’t know ye were knowledgeable about healing matters. That’s wonderful because our healer, Lillith, lives afar and we sometimes have to wait for her to come and tend to someone.”

“If anyone needs aid, please send for me. I’ve been trained by an old healer and have done so since I was very young. I’d be happy to help anyone in need.”