Beloved Ruins, Book 1 Page 8

  “You may,” Michael said. He motioned to a seat opposite him, but Master Balric was instead drawn to the array of weapons on the wall. One in particular stirred his curiosity, for while the other swords were fully exposed, it was kept in an ancient sheath. “May I,” he asked.

  “I would rather you not,” said Michael. “I try not to disturb it for fear the sheath shall wear completely out. However, I shall tell you the story someday when we have naught to do.”

  “A story? You know from whence it came?”

  “I do. The MacGreagors have been handin’ down the old stories for generations.”

  Excited, the Master pulled a chair away from the table and sat. “Are they written?”

  “Nay, we cannae write.”

  “Might I write them for you?”

  Michael paused to consider that for a moment. “In English?”

  “I fear I am not so very proficient in writing Gaelic. Besides, not many could read it. The Scots are, I sadly say, condemned to learn English to survive.”

  “Aye, they are.”

  “Then you shall let me write them?” the Master asked.

  “I see no harm in it.”

  “Good. I shall need proper parchment, goose feathers, soot to make into ink, a flat knife with which to wipe away runs, and a slanted writing table.”

  Michael smiled. “And what will that cost me?”

  “Not too awfully much, providing you have a goose.”

  “Am I mistaken, or is parchment somewhat difficult to obtain?”

  “My good man, is it not glorious we are in good standing with the French? They tend to have all sorts of parchment...providing the price is right.”

  This time Michael chuckled. “Very well, you have my blessin’. I shall make the funds available and have Murran build your table.”

  “May I also request a room that is kept dry in which to work, and a chair, naturally.” Master Balric frowned. “Do we impose by staying in the castle? We could gladly...”

  “Not at all. I shall enjoy the company, although...”

  “What?”

  “I had not yet said I would give sanctuary to Grizel, but I seem to have no say in the matter. Her guard left her here.”

  “You fear they are up to somethin’?”

  “There are other ways to manage an unwanted marriage. I know little of Laird Allardice, but could she not have asked his protection?”

  “Unless he is the one she fears.”

  Michael rubbed his brow for a moment. “‘Tis possible, I suppose.”

  “Can you not send a lad to ask?”

  “I could, but if he means to kill her, he would suspect where she is.”

  “True.” Balric said as he got up. “The little ones are asleep upstairs and I best see to them.” He scooted the chair back in place, and nodded. Before he reached the door, Murran opened it.

  “You sent for me?” Murran asked.

  “Come in,” said Michael. “Master Balric wishes you to make a desk and chair for him. Are you willin’?”

  “Aye.”

  “You are fixin’ Lindsey’s table, are you not?” Michael asked.

  “Aye,” is all Murran said.

  “Very well. Go with Master Balric and he shall tell you what he wants.

  Murran nodded, held the door open for the teacher, and then followed him out.

  AFTER HAVING GONE FOR a walk that morning with her brother and Michael, Elena knew a little about the layout of the place. Various paths led from the older cottages situated nearest the castle, to newer ones down the paths. Even before they left the courtyard, people stopped to stare at Grizel, and it happened over and over, no matter which path they took. Grizel didn’t appear to be bothered by it, and letting them get a good look at her was exactly what Elena had in mind. Hired to teach the MacGreagor children, Elena needed a good night’s sleep as much as anyone.

  Each path eventually led them back to the road that ran down the middle of the Glen. At length, they walked back to the castle, and then to the side of it to have a look at the river. Two men were teaching their sons how to fish, and they too couldn’t take their eyes off the redhead. In turn, Grizel looked each of the men in the eye, and again dropped her gaze to let them look at her face.

  Never before had Elena seen such blatant flirtations, but it was none of her affair so she dismissed it as little more than childishness. It was not until they took yet another path up from the river that she spotted Lindsey. “There you are Lindsey. I could not remember how to find you. This is Grizel of Clan Allardice.”

  Lindsey’s hands were wet and the color of the gray clay she worked with, but that was normal. She acknowledged first Elena and then smiled at Grizel as she continued to roll clay between her hands into a thin rope. “I heard we had a visitor. You are welcome here.”

  “Thank you,” said Grizel. She looked at the pot Lindsey was making, glanced in the basket of broken pottery, and then picked up two of the pieces. “Do you make mosaic as well?”

  “Mosaic?” Lindsey asked.

  “Pictures made of broken pottery. Some artists break pottery intentionally.”

  Lindsey stopped working. “Truly? I had never thought of that.”

  Grizel put the pottery pieces back in the basket. “I find mosaic quite beautiful. I think to take it up someday myself.”

  “Why wait?” Lindsey asked. “You are welcome to...” She set her rope of clay down and paused to think for a minute. “If we make a flat board of clay, you could simply press the pieces into it.”

  Grizel appeared to be delighted. “Thank you. Tomorrow, I shall begin. Oh, but what about paint? ‘Tis far more becomin’ when the pieces are painted different colors.”

  “I shall be pleased to share the paint I use to decorate my pottery.”

  “You are most kind,” said Grizel, “but I fear I cannae pay for it.”

  “I see. Well, we shall think of somethin’. Tomorrow then?” Lindsey asked. She waited for Grizel’s smile and then picked up her bowl and went to her clay bucket.

  Elena frowned, “Lindsey, you are limping, I see. Are you not hurt after all?”

  Lindsey bowed her head for a moment. “Pray do not tell Michael. He shall make me rest and I’ve work to do.”

  “Michael will make you rest?” Grizel asked.

  “Aye,” Lindsey answered. “He takes very good care of me.”

  Elena put her hands on her hips.” I demand you show me the injury.”

  There were no men around, so Lindsey pulled her skirt up just enough to let Elena see the bruise on her shin. “Murran tried to pull me back, but ‘twas too late.”

  “The skin is not broken,” Elena said. “It shall heal soon enough I wager, but it must truly be painful.”

  “‘Tis not that painful,” said Lindsey. “You’ll not tell Michael, will you?”

  Elena smiled. “I’ll not tell him if you wish me not to. I promise.”

  Two men walked up from the river hoping to get a good look at Grizel. Elena was getting used to that but Lindsey thought it odd. Rarely did anyone walk up Lindsey’s path. Not quite understanding, she shrugged and when Elena and Grizel left, she went back to doing the work she dearly loved.

  Before long Kester and Birdie came home. Birdie still had the ham bone from the night before in his mouth, and Kester was frowning. “What did the red want?”

  “I see not why you dinna like her. To me she was most pleasant. She is comin’ tomorrow to make a mosaic out of my broken pottery.”

  “Is she now?” Kester was tired, and Birdie was about to fall asleep sitting up, so she huffed, opened the door to her cottage, let Birdie go in first, and then closed the door behind them.

  Lindsey watched Kester disappear and shrugged once more. She gave the next man to walk past her worktable a confused look, but he kept right on walking. She checked to make certain there were no children within sight, particularly near her fire, and then picked up the clay rope. Just as she began to press it into place on to the ite
m she was making she mumbled, “Sometimes I think all lads are daft.”

  THE CHILDREN HAD ALREADY eaten and were playing upstairs when it came time to eat their evening meal. There were few left who had not already seen the redheaded beauty. Therefore, supper in the castle dining room suffered far fewer interruptions, although they were occasionally served by male members of the clan who were definitely not Michael’s cook. He ignored them and looked forward to the time when she would no longer draw such attention.

  “Grizel has a new occupation,” Elena announced as soon as Grizel entered the room. “She is to make a mosaic using Lindsey’s broken pottery.”

  “What a fine occupation,” said Balric. I have seen many a magnificent mosaic in my time.

  “Tell me,” Michael began when she again chose to sit in the chair next to him, “How many are in Clan Allardice?”

  Grizel had not considered being questioned, had no idea how much Michael knew already and did not quickly answer, “I have yet to count them.”

  “Surely, you have some idea,” Elena said. Sitting directly across the table, the expression on Grizel’s face was unmistakably hostile, and like Kester, Elena had begun to suspect she was lying.

  “Truly, I do not,” Grizel answered. She filled her plate and ignored the woman across the table from her.

  “Do you live in a castle?” Elena insisted.

  Grizel did not bother to look up. “I see not why you care to know.”

  “I simply wondered,” Elena said. “Of course, if ‘tis too painful to talk about...”

  “Aye, ‘tis much too painful,” said Grizel with a touch of sorrow in her voice.

  Her sorrow was obviously insincere and served to raise Elena’s ire a little. “Say again what has caused such pain?”

  Grizel finally looked up and glared at Elena. “Must you question me as if I am to blame for my circumstances?”

  Master Balric quickly swallowed. “Sister, perhaps you should not further press her.”

  “Very well,” Elena said. “Yet, I had not thought her so timid.”

  The exchange between the two women at his table befuddled Michael. “Perhaps we might talk of other things.”

  “Indeed,” Grizel agreed. “I do hope Lindsey’s injury shall not cause her too much sufferin’.”

  “What?” Michael asked, raising half out of his chair. “She is hurt?” He didn’t wait for the answer. Instead, he sprinted across the room, yanked open the door and disappeared.

  Elena was furious. “I promised we would not tell him.”

  “Did you?” Grizel innocently asked. “I promised nothin’.” She put a bite of roast beef in her mouth, and ignored Elena’s glare. As soon as she swallowed, she said, “My, but he surely does fancy her. I have never seen a lad leave a room so quickly.”

  Elena was so angry, she could not think of anything rational to say. She put her spoon down, got up, and followed Michael out the door. With barely enough daylight left to see, she ran down the path toward the river and when she arrived, Michael had Lindsey sitting in a chair outside and was examining her shin.

  “The table hit you?” Michael asked. “Why did you not tell me?”

  Behind him Elena said, “Because she feared you would make her rest.”

  “She is right,” Michael said as he stood back up. “Lindsey, do you not remember? Everyone is to tell me when they are hurt?”

  “But Michael, ‘tis only a bruise,” said Lindsey.

  “Did Katrina not die last year from a bruise?”

  Lindsey hung her head. “Aye, but her skin was broken, it dinna heal and she got the fever.”

  He put a loving hand on her shoulder. “And we miss her still. Think how much more we should miss you.”

  “Thank you,” she muttered as tears appeared in the rims of her eyes.

  “I sent Murran to protect you and he should have told me.”

  “He dinna know, I dinna tell him. I only told...” she turned her attention to Elena. “You promised not to tell him.”

  “She dinna tell me,” said Michael.

  “Oh,” was all Lindsey said. She wiped the tears off her cheeks with both hands and then folded her hands in her lap.

  Michael smiled. “Fret not, my little Lindsey, for I am not angry. Rest and I shall come see about you in the mornin’.” He kissed the top of her head and then started up the path. Behind him, Elena returned Lindsey’s relieved smile, and then hurried after him.

  They were nearly all the way back to the castle when Michael said, “In future, dinna promise not to tell me when someone is hurt. They think not to bother me, but I am never bothered when it comes to seeing them survive.”

  “Then ‘tis not just Lindsey, but the whole clan you care about?” Elena asked.

  “Some are a bit harder to love than others, but they are all MacGreagors and ‘tis up to me to keep them safe.”

  “But especially Lindsey?”

  “Aye, especially Lindsey. When you get to know her better, you shall see the reason why.”

  Elena sighed. “I suspect I know already. Would that we were all like Lindsey.”

  “Would that there were no evil people in the world to protect Lindsey from.” He nodded his appreciation when the guard opened the door for them, and then addressed the worried look in his eyes. “Lindsey is hurt, but she shall recover. Tell Murran I wish to see him in the mornin’.”

  “Aye,” said the guard.

  Finally, he slowed his pace and as they strolled together across the inner courtyard, Michael clasped his hands behind his back. “Murran is a good lad and I am surprised he let Lindsey get hurt.”

  “She said he pulled her out of the way, but not quickly enough.”

  “I see. Your brother has asked for a writin’ desk, and I shall have Murran build it. Should the noise disturb the children, I shall...”

  She waited while he opened the inner door. “I assure you, they can sleep through anything.” She was still irked at Grizel when she and Michael came back to finish their meal, but she said nothing more. Her brother and the children were nearly finished eating, and hers had gotten cold. Grizel, she noticed was taking her sweet time eating.

  “I wonder if I might have a lady in waitin’ while I am here,” Grizel asked Michael. She intentionally placed her hand right next to his, and pretended not to notice.

  “We are not accustomed to it,” Michael answered. Just as intentionally, he moved his hand away.

  “Yet, who shall brush my hair and clean my clothes?” she shyly asked.

  “I would be happy to show you how to find the river,” Elena offered. “As for your hair, I see not why...”

  “Perhaps you are not accustomed to being attended,” Grizel shot back.

  “Indeed not,” said Elena. “I dinna consider myself helpless.”

  “Nor do I, but I do enjoy that which a maid can provide.”

  Looking from face to face during the altercation, Master Balric could tell his sister was upset, and that Michael did not know what to do, so he thought to interfere. “Perhaps I might brush your hair, if...”

  Grizel grinned. “A lad...brushin’ the hair of a lass?”

  “I am some years older than my sister,” Balric said in his defense. “There was no one else to do it, so I brushed her hair.”

  “What a delightful thought,” said Grizel. “I accept.”

  Balric was not expecting that, and deeply wrinkled his brow. “You do?”

  “I assure you, my brother’s brushing is not delightful at all,” said Elena. “‘Tis quick and painful. He has no patience for such things.”

  “In that case,” Grizel said. “Perhaps...”

  “I could do it,” Brenna volunteered.

  Grizel ignored the child and thoughtfully looked at Michael. “I know not how to wash my own clothes. Might you find a lass to help me?”

  “Well, I...” Michael started.

  “Good, it is settled then,” said Grizel. Finished with her meal at last, she got up and walked
out.

  They listened as she climbed the stone steps leading to the bedchambers above, and then heard her door close. At length, Balric smiled. “How have we managed to let her have her way?”

  “I cannae imagine,” Michael admitted. “Elena, I thank you for tryin’.”

  “What will you do now?” Elena asked.

  Michael frowned and then chose another bite of meat to eat. “I seem to have little choice in any matter.”

  “Well, I cannae wait to see what she shall ask for next,” Balric said.

  “Nor can I.” Michael put the meat in his mouth and reached for a second piece of bread.

  “Have you considered,” Elena asked, “that if she were married to a laird, the lad who now threatens to harm her would not dare demand to have her back?”

  “She is right,” said Balric. “My dear Michael, you must marry another, and waste no time in doing so.”

  Michael rolled his eyes. “Yet another choice I am not allowed to make? Splendid.”

  Balric chuckled. “Well, if you insist, I shall allow you to choose the lass.”

  “I thank you for that, at least,” said Michael. “I suppose we could use more help in the castle, and now that I think of it, when I do have a wife, she will need a maid to tend her anyway.”

  “Why will she need a maid?” Elena asked.

  “Because the MacGreagor mistress shall relieve me of duties I dinna do very well. She shall be kind hearted enough to see to the sick, the hungry, and check each day on the elderly. She must love children as well as animals, see to the running of the castle, and be glad of it. Most importantly, she shall tell me what the lasses say needs be done – that which the lasses are too ill at ease to tell me, but will confide in a mistress. Such a wife is worth all the gold in the world.”

  “All that?” Balric asked. “No wonder you have not yet found a wife. Is she required to love you as well?”

  “Of course. I shall have no other.” Michael looked up from his food at the grin on Balric’s face. “And you? What do you require of a wife?”