by Fiona Faris
They had no chance for privacy either. They slept on the floor of the croft at night and during the day; she was away with Rebecca, clearing the place while he kept watch for snakes and bandits.
A sound of screaming from the kitchen had him hobbling as fast as he could on his cane, drawing his sword in preparation.
“What is happening?”
He stepped into the kitchen sword raised and looked around. Emily was standing on a stool and screaming, pointing in a corner.
“I-it’s a r-rat!”
“What?”
Alexander closed his eyes and sheathed his sword. “I beg your pardon?”
She pointed dramatically to the corner, “A-a r-r-rat!”
Alexander moved to one side so he could see around the kitchen table. In the corner was a huge fat black rat nibbling on a bone, unconcerned by Emily or her screaming. Alexander cocked an eyebrow, looking at Emily in disbelief. She looked back at him expectantly.
“Well?”
Alexander shook his head, limping forward until he was directly across from the rat. He unsheathed his sgian dubh – a small, single-edged traditional Scots knife - took aim at the rat and threw it.
It pinned the rat neatly to the ground but did not kill it. Alexander could see that the rat squealing and struggling was scaring Emily more. He took the two steps closer to it reached down and twisted its neck; breaking it. The squealing stopped abruptly but Emily was still breathing hard and fearfully.
He turned to her, his brow beetled with puzzlement. “It is deid.”
“C-c-could y-you get it out of here?” Rebecca's hand flew to her mouth, her face green as if she was about to vomit.
Alexander almost laughed, but could see that she was genuinely repulsed by the dead and filled with revulsion. His mind flickered back to the homeless days when such a fat and healthy rat would have fed them for a whole day. He pulled out his knife, from where it had been pinning the rat to the ground, rinsing it in a bucket of water. Picking the rat by its tail he walked out of the kitchen, Emily cowering as he strode past her. He had to suppress a smile at her very genuine fear of a dead rodent. It was rather too amusing.
While he was glad to be able to be of some use even with his dodgy leg, the encounter brought home to him how unprepared Emily was for this life. If he had any decency, he would send her back to her parents. But if he did that, he would lose the home they were building, and he and Rebecca would go back to having nothing. He could not do that to his sister. Not after everything they had been through to get here.
Time. We just need some time.
He set the garbage with the rat in it on fire before heading back to the house. He headed for the kitchen, dusting his hands together with satisfaction. “It is done my princess.”
Emily was still up on the chair. She came down from it slowly, walking hesitantly toward Alexander, her eyes cautious. Alexander watched her come, wondering what she was up to. Stopping in front of him, she looked at him, first with one eye and then the other, as if she was looking for something. Alexander smiled hesitantly.
He was taken aback when she reached up on tiptoe until her lips were level with his and pressed her soft warm lips on him very briefly before stepping away again.
“Thank you.”
Alexander swallowed. “Ye’re welcome.”
He turned awkwardly and walked out of the kitchen, unable to keep from turning and staring at her from time to time, as he returned to his post in the hallway where he could keep an eye on both upstairs where his sister was, and downstairs in the kitchen where Emily was.
She continued to stand in the doorway, staring at him as if entranced as he sat down slowly, taking a deep breath.
Maybe this can work out after all.
Rebecca walked down the stairs towards her brother looking particularly pleased with herself.
“What’s making ye so happy?”
“The North Wing. The damage to it is not as bad as the other wings. I think with a little cleaning, we can move in there in a day or two. Some of the crofters have grudgingly agreed to lend me their wives to wash linen and such. They will not have to enter the house to do that, and they are willing to collect water from the well for us to use with cleaning inside, as long as they can leave it in the foyer. We should have somewhere to stay by day after tomorrow.”
“That is indeed good news, Rebecca. I am sure Emily will be glad to have a bed again. I need to speak with Amos so if you would be so kind as to get him when ye return upstairs?”
“Of course big brother, I shall remind him that ye’ll be needing that feather mattress sooner than expected.” She grinned naughtily at him.
Alexander’s cheeks warmed. “How did ye ken aboot that?”
Rebecca laughed, cocking her head at him like a curious bird. “What don’t I ken, dear brother?”
Alexander snorted. “Weel then, be so kind as to tell him to have the seamstress to deliver the item two days hence.”
“Already done.”
Alexander reached a hand out and squeezed his sister’s. “Ye must be tired. Why dinna ye sit and I’ll fetch ye a lemonade?”
“I can fetch my own lemonade, thank ye very much. I have to see Emily anyway about something. So ye just sit there and rest.” With that, she was off before he had time to protest.
Alexander sighed. He was well aware that his sister and his wife were conspiring to have him off his feet as much as possible. The sensible part of him appreciated it, knew that he needed time to heal and he was feeling a lot better, the swelling almost gone. The rest of him was annoyed at them for coddling him. He was the man of the house, and he should be the one protecting them, and not the other way around.
Chapter Fifteen
The weather turned for the worse, and as the croft had a leaky roof they had to move into the manor a day early. “I still don’t see why we couldna have done some repairs on the roof and waited out the storm.”
“Sure, there’s an idea. Yer leg is barely healed and ye want to go climbing on roofs?” Rebecca dropped her bag gently on a chair. “In the rain, thunder, and the lightning. Have ye lost yer marbles? I dinna think anyone else would agree with this dunderheided plan of yours.”
To say that the old Manor House was not yet habitable was an understatement in its current state, and it made him uneasy. He could not show it of course, that would simply make the women hysterical. They had agreed upon the move earlier that afternoon when they noticed the clouds rolling furiously across the sky.
They had already had a few squalls; enough to know that the roof of the croft was leaking. Spending the night in the croft when it was thundering did not seem like a good idea. Weathering the deluge under a real roof rather than this leaky thatch had appealed to nearly all of them. Alexander had some concerns but not enough to veto the other three.
The north wing was mercifully the closest to the entrance of the manor, which limited the number of torches necessary and the distance they needed to carry their baggage. By the time the trunks had been carried to the manor, everyone was too tired and soaked to the skin to worry about vermin or snakes until the next day. Alexander could live with that.
“Aye, but Emily complains about everything anyway. And I don’t think Frances would ever say a word; she is such a timid thing.”
“Yes, but I ken I would.” And if you think Emily’s bellyaching is bad, you have no idea how far I can take it. Ye should go to her, she’s probably scairt.”
Alexander nodded. “I’ll see ye later sister.”
“Guid nicht.”
Alexander walked down the darkened hallway to the room where Emily was waiting. He found her standing by the bed. She shot him a glance as she removed her long coat and made a point of shaking off all the water it had gathered from the short walk up the path
More outer layers were removed, and Emily tugged her long golden hair out of its clasp and began to wring it out. She caught him hovering near the door out of the corner of her eye. “You can st
ep inside, you know,” she chuckled. “The most frightening thing in the room right now is me.”
Alexander rolled his eyes but did so anyway. His claymore was left leaning against the ornate footboard of the bed, his sghian dhu, and sheath draped beside it. Unlike Emily, he had less clothing to shed, and his woolen kilt was only slightly damp compared to her gown and cloak.
They were not in the master chambers – those were in the south wing - but neither was it the servant’s quarters either. The bed itself was made of sturdy mahogany, its solid frame, leather supports, and straw mattress aired out enough to be comfortable.
Fraying tapestries lined the walls – the washerwomen had washed, dried and rehung them the day before – and were for the most part in good condition. An animal skin rug stretched out in front of the unlit fireplace; somehow, it had stayed in usable condition over the years.
Wooden slats covered the windows, which were large enough to be a secondary source of light when open. The windows were closed now to protect from the wind and the squalls of rain. The panels shook in their frame as heavy drops pelted mercilessly down and rattled noisily with each clap of thunder. They were both surprised that it had not begun to leak or break under the might of the storm.
While Alexander finished removing his leather armor and boots, Emily poked about the room for candles and lit them as she came across them.
At first, she had thought about lighting a fire in the fireplace but then decided against it, in case it attracted the wildlife lurking in the walls. The candles would do for now until they were sure that all the vermin were all gone.
“It won’t be that bad,” she went on. The small handful of wax stumps were enough to cast a faint glow over the bedroom. “It’s less than twelve hours until morning. And it’s better than trying to wait this out in a leaking croft; even you have to admit that?”
Alexander took a chance with the old bed and sat down on the mattress as he grumbled. It creaked dangerously under his weight, and the mattress all but collapsed into itself. Clearly, the years had not been kind, and even if it looked inviting at first glance there was no way they’d actually be sleeping on it for long. He was thankful to have already arranged for an alternative and wondered if he should order two more, one for Rebecca and one for Frances. He made a mental note to speak with Rebecca about it in the morning.
Emily stood from where she had been poking around in the old ashes of the fireplace, making sure there was nothing lurking in there that would surprise them during the night and made her way over to him still looking worried
“Emily,” he laughed gently, pulling her between his tights and looping her arms around his neck. “Wife. Come here—we will be fine for the night. I will set up some more safeguards at the door and window, and there are enough candles to burn all night. We can set the bedrolls up and dry off.”
She leaned forward and laying her head against his, then bowing his head down slightly, kissed his forehead.
“Ye don’t really think I’d say ‘let’s move here’ instead of ‘let’s wait until we have everything cleared out’ if I wasn’t sure we’d all be fine, do ye?”
Alexander did not pout, but he was managing a very good imitation of it.
“I do trust you,” she mumbled into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “and I know I signed up to follow you anywhere. But I don’t remember the part of the contract where I said anything about spending the night trembling with the fear that a snake might wrap itself around my waist as I sleep?”
“I’m sorry,” he laughed again. “I promise ye’ll be compensated for yer troubles. I shall make sure of it. We will be all right.”
“I know. I do believe you.”
“No doubt,” he smiled as he swept forward with another kiss. “Unroll our beds while I handle those safeguards?”
Emily searched through both their packs and unfurled the bedrolls on top of the rug in front of the fireplace. She supposed, if they really wanted to, they could have put the bedrolls down on the mattress, but it seemed to be a lost cause. It was probably jumping with bed bugs and other insects and was only fit for burning; she would take it out to the back and burn it tomorrow. More than likely, it was filled with nothing more than rotted hay and feathers.
Besides, the rug would be more comfortable than lying on the hard ground in the croft.
Stripping out of her wet clothing, she stood in her shift. Her feet were bare too; the muddy water had soaked straight through her boots and stockings and did little to keep a chill off. She had been trying to suppress shivers since the second they walked in.
A quick examination of the bedding in the drawers proved it was just as nasty as the mattress itself. Frowning, she cast a glance at the rest of the room before spotting a promising looking chest of drawers and trunk near the back corner.
The top two drawers contained stale-smelling shirts that had been the height of cavalier fashion at one time. The bottom drawer yielded better results—a quilt folded and tucked away had managed to stay in a relatively decent condition. She wondered what else they would discover in this house. Perhaps it would not be so bad.
Shaking out the dust she checked the cloth once over before deciding it was fine and tossed it over the bedrolls. It landed instead on the loveseat adjacent to the fireplace, somewhere she was not going to try sit, judging by the look of it.
Alexander watched her with an amused smiled. “What, exactly, are you planning to do with that locked chest?”
“Make the most of a bad situation. Would you take a look at it for me?”
Alexander squatted down and ignored the way his bad knee popped, focusing on the lock. Rebecca and Frances were in rooms next door, probably using their time wisely by getting some sleep.
However, the lock was as old as everything else in the Manor, and age made things brittle. With a bit of effort, he was able to break it off. Part of the wood came along with it, but he was worried about damaging the furniture, it was theirs after all. Despite everything, he found the thought exciting. They finally had furniture that was theirs, even though it was falling apart.
Just like the quilt that was tucked in the drawer, the chest was packed with spare bedding likely intended for the chilly nights that set in during the winter months. They were slightly frayed, but once she shook them out, most of the stale smell dissipated and they would do fine for the one-night use.
He answered the question before she could ask. “Ye look cold,” he shrugged with the armful of furs and bedding, leaning down as he walked past her to drop the bedding onto her bedroll.
“A fair assumption,” she gave a pleased smile as he began to arrange the beddings on the floor in lieu of a mattress.
“I think I will to light a fire after all to dry the clothes since you’ve set up traps at the doors and windows.”
“Good idea. The wind is biting.”
Emily took it upon herself to sort out the fire. The logs hidden under the ash were mercifully dry, and a bit of searching around the room revealed a half-hidden stack of unused firewood behind a curtain. In a few short minutes she had the proper kindling setup and ready. She used a candle to light the kindling, watching it catch until it was burning merrily. Emily turned her attention to lighting more candles and flushing out any vermin that might be hiding in dark corners by setting up the candles in the candelabras and placing them strategically across the room. Once certain she had lighted as many as possible, she moved their boots and clothing nearer to the blaze in the hope that they would be completely dry by the morning. The final touch was unfurling the metal fireplace screen that was leaning against the wall and setting it up in front of the flames.
“It’s not so bad, is it?”
She settled herself cross-legged onto the bedroll. The day’s work had left her back sore, though it was probably more to do with moving into the manor than the relatively light kitchen duties that Rebecca had given her.
Reaching across the floor she managed to drag th
e old loveseat over parallel to their beds to use as a sort of chair back, twisting her spine this way and that in an attempt to work out some of the aches before sagging against the cushions. She was too tired to worry about them being alone for the first time since their wedding night.
“Oh aye, this is very quaint.” Alexander joined her by the fire, their two bedrolls pushed closely together, layered underneath with the rug and several blankets.
In one arm, he carried the nicer of the quilts he had found. The other held their packs. They had eaten a small meal before retiring for the night. Now they just needed to rest. Alexander noticed that Emily tensed slightly as he sat down next to her so he turned with a reassuring smile.
