CHAPTER EIGHT
G ood lord, the lass hasnae even been taught how to run an estate. What were her parents preparin’ her for? A life of luxury with nay responsibility?
His eyes landed on her mother and a brow ticked up in question. The lady turned to her daughter. “Much like I have been doing our clan, Paige. Ye’ve seen me attend to the women and children, the widows and the orphans."
“Yer duties are to manage the homestead,” he said. “If the harvest is poor, ye need to ration the food, findin’ ways to make sure everyone is fed. In times of rich harvest, ye would do the opposite and make sure we have stores replenished.
“There are certain women and children who need help every month,” he went on. “The matrons of the village church will help ye with that. Those are yer duties.”
“I see,” Paige said.
“As the laird and the chief, I am responsible for makin’ important decisions on behalf of the clan, such as leadin’ the clan in battle or negotiatin’ alliances with other clans.
“There are many villages in me lairdship, with many offshoots. However, years ago me faither and I decided to consider the offshoots as a part of the village closest to it. We have a round number of thirteen villages, each with its own lesser chief and landowners. These thirteen men make up me council,” Ruben explained.
Paige did not look pleased. “Are there any other duties ye need me to perform?”
She was goading him, he knew it, but he would not give into her. He knew—and she had to know—about the need to conceive a child as quickly as possible. It was uncouth to mention such matters in front of his father and her mother.
“Aye, ye are directly in charge of the orphanage in the village,” he said, “As a matter of fact, I am takin’ ye there this mornin’. That is why I told ye to get ready. Have ye finished eatin’?”
“I have,” she said.
“Good,” Ruben pushed away from the table. “We’re to leave. Now .”
They left the gates of Castle McKinnon behind them and Paige sat atop a loaned mare, secretly relishing the feel of the breeze upon her face. It had been a long time since she had ridden like this.
At home, her mother had not approved of a woman riding, thinking it vulgar for a woman to be on horseback, but her father had insisted upon it. Thankfully, her father’s word had overruled her mother and she’d taken the lessons.
“Choille Village houses over four hundred souls.” Ruben said, adjusting the thick plaid sash he wore, tied from shoulder to hip. “It used to be almost five, but the war claimed forty men.”
“A war ye started for nay reason,” she said.
He was silent as they rode over a stretch of green. “Yer faither sheltered ye.”
She shot a look to him, “What do ye mean by that?”
“I’ll explain later,” he said.
Paige had the strange feeling that he would not be explaining anything at all. Ruben sat atop his great steed, his back a slab of iron, his shoulders rigid.
He led them down a road to the east that skirted the wide bay with bracing winds. They skirted round a backend of a seaside bluff that made a natural narrow gate to the village. The thick wall that curved away on the other side; it made a narrow gate to the village.
It’s good to stop invaders, but bad to stop the people from fleein’ if attacked.
They soon came to the outskirts of the village, not unlike any other village of a great castle, it had thatched cottages sat on large swaths of land, many had large pens that contained small livestock.
Others had massive pastures of cows, sheep and goats.
All this wealth…
They got closer to the town center where the houses got closer. There she saw women outside, laundry fluttering on a line, children romping outside with dogs while a few men were out chopping wood and loading carts.
“Are we near this orphanage?” she asked.
“Aye,” he said nodding. “We’re here.”
The first impression Paige had gotten at seeing the two-structure house was that it was… sad. The house had no doubt weathered some storms, but it still looked ragged and drab.
Ruben alighted from his horse, helped Paige down then hitched the horse to a post under a sprawling oak.
“Come on, then,” he said. “The children are waitin’.”
Stepping through the doorway, Paige took note of the scrubbed walls, the bare staircase leading to the level above, the wide hallway under it led to a room beyond.
A young woman in a blue frock, a gray apron and cap came out of the room beyond. She jerked at a stop at seeing Ruben but then broke out into a smile.
“Me Laird, we dinnae ken ye would be visiting us today,” she paused to open the doorway to a cupboard and pulled out a mop, a bucket. “And ye brought company. Welcome.”
“T’is a surprise, Sarah.” Ruben said.
She then tucked rolls of dried towels under her left arm. “Please, come this way. The children are in the readin’ room.”
“Readin’ room?” Paige murmured to herself.
“Would ye gather all the housemothers and the children in the readin’ room?” Ruben said. “I have an announcement I think ye should all ken.”
“Aye, me laird.” Sarah said, smiling, “This way, please.”
She led them beyond the great hall dining room to two classrooms at the back of the building where the children were having their daily lessons. The children, ten of them, were on the floor listening as the older woman read to them.
The room was drab, one part of the wall had some paper drawings of a garden and pretty flowers, and another of a woman with grey hair, kind eyes and wrinkles.
Paige’s eyes dropped on the woman in the middle of the room, who under her cap, had grey hair—the same as in the drawing.
“Maither Etna,” Sarah called to the woman. “Children, his lairdship is here to see us. Is that nae wonderful?”
A wave of delightful cries surged into the air as the children surged to their feet and went to hug him. He lifted a young lad to his arms, warmth sparking in his eyes.
It was the closest thing Paige had seen to him smiling.
She turned to the door as more children started filing in, these were the older children. Paige estimated their ages to be between thirteen and seventeen.
“Me Laird?” Mother Etna said invitingly. “Yer announcement.”
While holding the boy, Ruben said. “I daenae ken if word had gotten around the village yet, but I want ye all to meet me wife, Lady Paige McKinnon.”
Cries of joy ran through the room and the elder caretaker pressed her hand to her chest, pure joy on her face. The lady bowed her head and whispered what looked like a prayer of thanksgiving.
Paige did not have the heart to correct her. It would probably break her gentle heart.
“How wonderful,” another caretaker said. “We have all been hoping and praying ye would find a wonderful lady to marry.”
Again, Paige bit her lip. Would Ruben tell them who she truly was, or would he leave the part that she was from the enemy clan out of it?
Some of these orphans came from the war too.
“Thank ye,” Ruben said. “She will be the caretaker for ye all here. Now, ye will nae have to wait for me to return from a long journey or be forced to relay yer needs to those who have nay authority to give ye what ye need—” he looked to Paige.
“Now, she’ll be the one ye come to,” he said. “Send her a message any time ye need and I assure ye, she will help.”
Forcing herself to put the rift with Ruben to the back of her mind, Paige focused on the children. They were not a part of this though and her heart bled for these innocent children. The war had caused this.
A young girl, clad in a rough-woven dress, came to her and tugged at her dress. Crouching, Paige asked, “Can I help ye, sweetheart?”
“Ah like yer dress,” the girl whispered. “The color’s pretty.”
“Yellow is pretty,” Paige agreed. “It reminds me of sunshine and flowers. Do ye like flowers, pretty girl?”
She nodded, “Aye.”
“All right, all right,” One of the housemothers came and lifted the girl. “I am sorry about Nera’s interruption, me lady.”
“T’is all right,” Paige got to her feet. “I daenae mind.”
“Why daenae I give ye a tour of the orphanage so ye can ken the house?” Ruben said. “Go back yer lessons, children. We’ll return soon.”
“May I come with ye, me laird and lady?” Sarah asked. “I can give ye a tour of the orphanage so you can see the sorts of needs we have? I am nae needed here.”
Paige did not feel as if she had the power to tell the young woman to come or to refrain. Ruben nodded curtly, “Aye, ye can show us around.”
The young housemother showed her everywhere - from the place the children washed their clothed to their vegetable garden the little ones took turns to plant and weed. She saw a chicken coop and the lone milk cow.
Paige leaned forward and rested her hand on the sill. “Ye grow yer own food too?”
“Aye,” Sarah replied. “Carrots, potatoes, onions and beets. We use some and sell the surplus for coin in the market. We have to teach the children to be self-sufficient from an early age so they will have skills to use when they do leave us.”
Paige nodded. “That’s smart. They do need to have somethin’ to take with them into the world. Ye’re teachin’ them to protect themselves and to have a skill to survive.”
“One of our girls is interested in becomin’ a healer. She once met Lady Cassandra and was assured a place in the healing hall when she leaves here. She’ll gain all the skills she needs to help others.”
Thinking about healers and the wonderful work they did with the sick and the infirm, Paige felt bereft and inadequate. These girls would go on to be helpful members of the clan with skills that were in demand. Ladies were only good for looking regal and pretty.
What can I do here that is meaningful? What legacy can I possibly put in place?
They retreated to the schoolrooms where a series of letter were marked on the large slate on the wall. The children had their heads down, carefully tracing the letters on their slates.
“Maither Etna,” Paige called her over. When she came to their side, Paige looked around. Her eyes landed on the small girl from before. “Is there anythin’ ye need? Foodstuff? Clothin’?”
“We have food stored for months,” Etna said. “But we did take in two more orphans last week. We would appreciate some bolts of cloth to make their everyday clothes and those for celebrations.”
“Ye’ll have it,” Paige promised her. “Within the next week. May I ask, though—who started this practice? It is uncommon to teach orphans to read.”
“T’is one of the rule his lairdship made for us to follow.” Etna said. “It’s another skill they must have to function in the world beyond these halls. Being able to read and write, with basic arithmetic, they have the basic tools to nae be tricked by scrupulous men out there.”
Pivoting to look at Ruben, Paige felt her emotions sway. Why would a man as he was, a warmonger, do such a kind thing?
“The orphanage is home to ten bairns between the ages of three and eleven and eight more children between twelve and seventeen.” Etna said while fixing her cap. “It’s quite a task to keep them all fed, clothed, and educated. We do our best, though.”
The sound of singing came from the other classroom and Paige titled her head to the harmony. She left for down the hall and stood at the door of the room. Five girls were at the front of the room, with songbooks in hands.
“The girls are participatin’ in next week’s May Day celebration in the township. They rehearse as much as they can as there are prizes to be won there, baskets of food, books and silver coins.” Etna said proudly. “I am sure they will win.”
Paige looked to the young girl who was focused on her slate with her tongue poking out her lips, “What is the name of that little lass again?”
“Nera,” Etna said. “She’s the daughter of a young lass who had an unfortunate dalliance with another young man. The birthin’ took her away from us.”
Pressing her hand to her chest, Paige rubbed the sudden painful spot aching in her breastbone. “That’s very unfortunate. I cannae—I cannae think of what it would be like to have nay family to help me. These poor children.”
“Aye,” Etna said, smiling softly, sympathetically. “But we will give the best life we can give them. If ye will excuse me, I need to get back to the lesson now.”
“I willnae keep ye.” Paige said as the housekeeper went on with her lesson. As she kept looking on the children learning how to spell, she was close enough to hear Sarah and Ruben speak. Well, Sarah was talking; Ruben was sternly silent.
Sarah inched closer to him, batting her eyelashes as she glanced up at him. Her cheeks were pink, and her brown eyes glowed with admiration. “I like to see ye smile, me laird. It does me heart good.”
Prickles of awkward warning broke out down Paige’s back. But she kept her head straight and listened.
“I remember when yer sister was here,” Sarah turned to the doorway. “How she was so certain ye would never find love and we tried to tell her she was wrong. That one day, ye would have the admiration of a lovely woman and we were right.
“Nay one is happier than we are to ken ye have found some joy,” Sarah said respectfully. “I hope yer marriage bring yer the peace ye keep lookin’ for.”
That drew Ruben’s attention. His left brow ticked up, “The peace I’ve been lookin’ for? Why do ye say that?”
“Ye havenae been happy for years,” Sarah said. “Since yer da got sick and the burden of the lairdship fell on yer shoulders.”
She pretended not to hear them then turned. “I think we should return to the castle and start the preparations of what they want,” she smiled at Sarah. “Thank ye for showin’ us around.”
The caretaker bowed her head. “Ye are most welcome.”
As the left the orphanage and stepped into the sunlight, they headed to the tied horses. She shot an eye to him. “I dinnae think a brute like ye would have a sensitive side.”
In seconds, Paige found her eyes pinned by Ruben’s dark gaze Her breath hitched as shiver ran up her spine. “Stop callin’ me a brute, lass. Ye daenae ken what a true brute is.”
She swallowed. “And if I daenae?”
“Believe me, if ye want a brute, I will show ye one,” he growled.
The fire in his eyes made her tremble; it felt as if he wanted to either shake her senseless or cower her into submission. His eyes—cold, piercing, and intent— held her own in a moment that seemed both too short and endless.
“I—I apologize,” Paige said.
A flood of emotions washed over her as she clenched her fists at her sides, drawing in a deep, steady breath. She felt a strange pulsing, fluttering sensation at her core.
“Come,” he demanded as he jerked his chin towards his horse. “T’is time we return.”