Page 10 of Taken By the Highland Villain
“I’d like to ken the name of the man I’ll be workin’ for, if ye dinnae mind. If ye wish to be addressed as Laird MacFinn, then it is all the same to me. But I prefer to ken who I serve.”
From the brief look of surprise that crossed his face, he didn’t appear to have even considered that she might want to know anything about him.
After a moment, he shrugged. “Jude Reid is my given name.”
“It is a pleasure to work for ye, Jude. Or do ye preferLaird MacFinn?”
He just grunted and turned away, picking up some bread and meat to make himself a sandwich before he collected a jug of what seemed to be ale or mead, from the smell. “It is all the same to me. Ye’ll be speakin’ mostly to Moira and my man-at-arms, in any case.”
Valerie opened her mouth to ask another question, but he was gone before she could get the words out, limping into the shadowed gloom of the hall beyond without another word.She frowned after him, somewhat disgruntled by his brusque manner.
“Dinnae take it hard, my dear. The Laird’s a gruff man, but nae an unkind one, and nae a bad master either. Ye’ll see.” Moira gave her an encouraging smile. She wiped her hands on a towel, then gestured for her to follow. “Since ye’re stayin’, I’ll show ye some of the things ye’ll need to ken, or to inspect, so ye can have an idea of what yer duties will entail. Then, we’ll get ye to a room so ye can rest.”
Valerie nodded and followed the older woman out of the kitchen.
Now that she no longer felt the clawing desperation to find safety, she was curious about her new surroundings. She had very little experience with castles, lairds, or clans other than Conall’s.
Clan MacKane used blue and green for their colors, whereas Clan MacFinn used red, green, and yellow in a different pattern.
Moira showed her several tapestries depicting everything, from simple images to portraits of individuals and even families. There were even a few that showed battles, and one depicted a wedding.
The detail and workmanship were incredible, though Valerie noted with a frown that several of them were somewhat faded, and a few of them seemed moth-eaten as well.
What bothered her most, however, was the air of neglect and gloom that hung about the whole castle. Everything was worn, dark, and far too quiet. Half the torches were unlit, and while Conall’s halls were full of footsteps and voices, the halls of MacFinn Castle were nearly as silent as a graveyard. Even Moira’s strong, lively voice couldn’t make up for the pall of silence that seemed to smother the very walls.
She wanted to ask, but she didn’t dare. So she confined herself to a single, soft comment. “It is so quiet—I’ve never kenned such silence afore. Nae since my maither passed when I was young.”
The smile faded from Moira’s face, replaced by a look of such deep sorrow that Valerie wanted to stop and embrace her, though she wasn’t sure the older woman would appreciate the gesture.
“Och, I ken. Most of the servants who once worked here have gone elsewhere, back to their villages or other clans. It is only me and a handful more.”
“But… why? Surely, ye cannae have fallen on such hard times.”
“Nae the way ye’re thinkin’, child. But the silence and the dark—it is what Laird MacFinn has preferred ever since…” Moira stopped, then shook her head. “Doesnae matter. It is a story for a different time. For now, this room is clean enough; it should suit yer needs.”
She opened the door to reveal a modest set of rooms, almost the same size as the guest rooms Valerie had used in MacKaneCastle, though certainly far darker. There was a small sitting room with a fireplace and some candles, then a bedroom beyond it, with windows that were covered with heavy drapes made of dark, almost black fabric, just like every other room Valerie had seen.
Moira gestured for her to enter. “I’ll light the fire for ye and bring ye some supper, for I doubt the Laird will be in a mood for a formal meal tonight. Ye rest, my dear, and tomorrow we’ll begin with all the mending and the making that needs doin’ around here. I’m certain there’s more than enough to keep ye busy for seven days or longer.”
“I dinnae doubt that.” Valerie gave the kindly woman a smile.
She would have offered to begin working right away, but she wanted to make some plans first. This had the potential to be one of the largest tasks she’d ever undertaken, and she had no wish to make a fool of herself by rushing into the job carelessly.
“Thank ye for showin’ me around.”
“Ye’re more than welcome, lass.” Moira smiled at her again, then went to kindle a fire.
A few moments of effort left a comfortable blaze in the hearth and cast a warm red-gold light over the room. Once that was done, Moira patted Valerie on the shoulder and then left, closing the door behind her.
Valerie stood before the hearth for a few minutes, then sighed and made her way to the bed. She’d expected the sheets to be as worn as most of the tapestries, curtains, and clothes she’d seen, but they were not only clean and crisp—nearly new—but also soft and comfortable. She relaxed into them with an exhale of utter relaxation.
It seems that Laird MacFinn—nay, his servants care for the comfort of guests, even though the Laird neglects his own comfort to an almost ridiculous degree.
Sleep tugged at her mind, pulling her into a comfortable state of lassitude, but thoughts of what she might do followed her even as the siren call of sleep pulled her into oblivion.
What am I to do?More trews like the ones I mended today, that’s for certain. I can mend and line the ones Laird MacFinn has, to be sure, but I can also make some of whole cloth—they’ll be lighter for the warmer months. Perhaps kilts and shirts to match? I’ll have to ask Moira. Soft leggings and socks, too, if his injury is below the knee.
Of course, I need to do somethin’ about those curtains as well. All this gloom and darkness cannae be healthy, and it is a wonder they’ve nae choked on the dust, with all the shadows obscurin’ who kens what in the corners! And the tapestries—properly mended, they’d make this place look more lived in and more comfortable.