Melvin thought it a good idea and told his laird so. “Ye can put those in the corner, lass,” he told Leona, who was gathering tunics from the floor and chairs. “One of the women folk will wash them fer me.”
Before Leona could volunteer to take care of the task, Alec brought the conversation back to barley. After tidying the cottage as best she could, she went to stand behind her husband.
For nearly an hour, the two men sat and discussed farming. Leona listened intently, but kept any opinions she might have on the matter to herself. It was quite apparent that Melvin had more than just rudimentary knowledge on the subject. Far more than she possessed. Alec was soaking up every bit of information he could from the auld man.
Melvin began to yawn, yet never once complained of being tired. But Alec was not blind. Without commenting on the auld man’s condition, he simply said, “I thank ye fer yer time, Melvin. As much as I would enjoy sittin’ here all the day long to learn from ye, I fear we can no’. We’ve other people to visit this day.”
“Ye ken I always have time to help ye, Alec,” Melvin said with a tired smile. To Leona he said, “And ye, lassie, can visit me any time ye wish.”
After leaving Melvin to rest, they visited the cottage next to his. They were met with the same confusion and contempt as given to them earlier. So it repeated, one cottage after another, one upset woman after another. Why a simple loaf of bread was met with such repugnance, Leona could not begin to guess. Though he said not a word, she was quite certain Alec was thinking I told ye so.
The last cottage they visited was Dougall’s. It sat at the far western edge of the glen, a good distance from the other cottages. A neat and tidy garden grew south of the home. Just beyond that a small barn, a chicken coop, and a good-sized pen that housed three cows with three calves.
Dougall was out of doors chopping wood. Two of his older boys were helping to stack the wood in a lean-to.
Seeing Alec and the others approaching, he leaned his axe against the large stump and wiped his sweaty brow onto the sleeve of his tunic. “Good day to ye!” he called out as they neared the cottage.
“Good day to ye, Dougall,” Alec said.
Dougall smiled at Leona as he bowed at the waist. “Good to see ye, mistress.”
“’Tis good to see ye, Dougall,” she replied.
Dougall called for his sons. “This be me eldest boy, Wills, and me second born, James,” he said proudly. “Lads, this be yer new mistress, yer laird’s wife, Leona.”
They each smiled at her, before giving a polite bow. “’Tis a pleasure to see ye again, mistress,” Wills said.
“Aye,” said James.
Dougall looked curiously at his sons.
“We met her earlier, Da,” Wills explained.
“Aye,” Alec said. “They helped escort us to a few of the other cottages.”
Content with the explanation, Dougall rubbed a hand atop Wills’ head. “Come inside,” Dougall told Alec. To Leona, he said, “I shall introduce ye to me wife. She’s been eager to meet ye.”
Leona prayed ’twas with happy eagerness and not the same scorn as the rest of the women she had met today.
Dougall held the door open as the others followed inside. Almost immediately, Leona felt at home. This was the cottage of her daydreams. A large bed sat in one corner, with a pretty linen curtain one could draw for privacy. A few steps from that, a ladder led up to a loft. A low fire burned in the hearth, a pot of something delicious smelling cooking within.
Furs were pulled away from the windows, allowing in the fresh, crisp air. Under one window sat a loom with a newly begun project. Clean rushes lined the floor. A few tapestries hung on the wall.
Dougall’s wife, heavy with child, was standing near her sink. “Och!” she declared. “I was no’ expectin’ company this day! Me house is a mess.”
In Leona’s mind, ’twas as immaculate a space as she’d seen in quite some time. “Nay, ’tis a beautiful home,” she said.
“Och! I just swept and laid new rushes and ye beasties are all trackin’ in!”
The men looked duly chastised.
“Ye must be the laird’s wife,” she said, approaching with outstretched arms. She took Leona’s hands in her own. “Och! Ye be just as pretty as Dougall said ye were.”
Leona felt her cheeks grow warm at the compliment. Relief washed over her. Finally, someone who is kind!
“Would ye like some cider?” she asked. Without waiting for a reply, she set about pouring two cups.
The men in the room chuckled. “Me wife has never kent a stranger,” Dougall said.
“Och, ye big lout!” his wife exclaimed. “Outside with all of ye. I should like to get to know me new mistress without all of ye hoverin’ about.”
“But I have no’ introduced ye yet,” Alec reminded her politely.
“I ken who she be, Alec. We can make our own introductions. Now, off with all of ye.”
The men laughed again as they began filing out of the cottage. Leona liked this woman instantly. She was left to wonder how Alec would respond were she to take the same tone with him. Would he smile and laugh and do her bidding or would he bite her off her head?
“I be Effie Bowie. Dougall’s wife. Mother to Wills, James, Aric, and Thomas,” she said as she set the mugs of cider on the table. “And in here,” she said as she patted her belly, “would be Craigh. Or Phillip, I have no’ yet decided.”
“Ye be certain ’tis a boy?” Leona dared ask as she took a sip of cider.
“What else could it be?” Effie jested. “I have birthed six boy bairns. But only four have lived beyond their third day.” Gone was the playful tone. Now her voice was laced with sorrow.
Leona had no personal experience of that kind of loss, but she was a woman. She could well imagine the heartache Effie had suffered. “I be so sorry,” she told her.
“’Tis the lot of all women, I suppose,” Effie said as she absentmindedly rubbed her large belly. “So to answer yer question, aye, I be certain it be another boy. He be just as ornery as his brothers, keepin’ me awake all hours with his kickin’.”
Slowly, her smile returned. “Would ye like somethin’ to eat?” Effie asked.
“Nay, but I thank ye,” she said.
’Twas then Effie noticed the basket on her table. “What be in there, mistress?”
Leona felt her face grow warm. Thus far Effie had seemed a kind and reasonable woman. The last thing she wanted to do was injure her feelings. “’Tis naught but bread. And please, call me Leona.”
“Bread? What kind?” Effie asked with much curiosity. “Who be it fer? And please, sit.”
She took the offered seat at Effie’s table. Deciding there was no way to avoid the inevitable, Leona lifted the cloth and slid the basket toward her. “I was tryin’ to do somethin’ nice, by givin’ a loaf of bread to those people I met today. But I fear I have insulted every woman in the clan by doin’ so.”
Effie looked at her as if she’d gone completely mad. “Insulted them?”
“Aye. They all said they could verra well make their own. Not one would take it. Alec had to give them to their husbands.”
“Fools they be if ye ask me,” Effie said as she looked inside the basket. “I say ’twas a kind gesture.”
Relieved, Leona let loose a frustrated breath. “That was me intent. But I fear they took it as an insult.”
“Can I have a loaf?” Effie asked with a hopeful expression. “I be no’ due fer two more months, but I tell ye, it gets more difficult to move about each day. And bakin’ bread? It tires me out, it does. I swear, I never got this tired so quickly with the others.”
“I only have a few left, but aye, ye can have them all,” Leona said with a warm and relieved smile.
With a grateful grin, Effie retrieved a loaf. “It smells heavenly,” she said. Tearing off a hunk, she stuffed it into her mouth. “That be verra good!”
Leona was thankful for the compliment. Her spirits lifted rapidly. “Thank ye,�
�� she said.
They were silent for a while as Effie ate more of the bread. Leona sipped on the cider, uncertain what to say or do next, unaccustomed to just sitting and talking with someone other than Rose.
“So,” Effie said, wiping the crumbs from her fingers. “Ye married Alec Bowie.”
Leona smile and nodded.
“How be he treatin’ ye?” Effie asked before bringing the cup of cider to her lips.
“Well,” Leona replied before diverting her eyes from Effie’s scrutinizing gaze.
“Well?” she asked. “Be that all?”
Leona giggled slightly. “We only married five days ago. But thus far, he has been quite kind.”
Effie took in a deep breath. “I fear I do no’ ken him well meself. He is a few years aulder than I. He spent many years away from here, either fosterin’ or travelin’ the world. He did not return until after Eduard died and Rutger took over as chief. But aye, he seems kind enough.”
Leona had already learned as much. “What was Rutger like?” she dared ask, only because she wanted to learn more about her husband and his family. Mayhap gaining some insight into her husband.
Effie shrugged her shoulders with indifference. “Some liked him, some did no’. He was a difficult man to get to know.”
It seemed to run in the family.
“And his parents? What were they like?”
Effie laughed aloud at that. “Och! Never in me life have I known two people who fought as much as they. Though they did love their sons, they apparently had a strong dislike for each other.”
Leona quirked a brow. “But they were good to their children?”
“Aye, they were. Though Alec’s father sent him away at a young age. I still think he did it to hurt Caitlin.”
“That was his mother?” Leona asked. Thus far she hadn’t heard any name but his brother’s pass over Alec’s lips.
“Aye. And what a beauty she was. She loved her sons, ye ken. Verra much. Doted on them, she did. But Roger — that be Alec’s father — he hated his wife more than he loved his sons. He sent each of them away, ye ken. To foster, he said, but if ye ask Dougall, ’twas more to spite his wife than fer the lads’ benefit.”
Leona was suddenly beset with worry. What if she gave Alec a son? Would he send the boy away? She couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from any future children they might have.
Seeing her distress, Effie smiled. “Do no’ fash yerself over it. I do no’ think Alec would be so cruel as his father was.”
Leona could only pray Effie was right.
Chapter 10
They returned to the keep later in the afternoon. When they entered the courtyard, it was filled with at least one hundred men who were training. Swords clanging against swords, grunting, cursing, wrestling, throwing knives: the sounds of mock battle filled the air around them, bouncing off the walls and keep.
Taking Leona by the elbow, Alec led her to a safe place, where she would be safe and there would be no chance she could get hurt. “We work in the fields in the morn, then train in the afternoons,” he explained quite proudly. “Ye will no’ find a fiercer lot of men on God’s earth.”
Leona had to agree, but not with the same level of enthusiasm nor delight as her husband. She detested fighting. Oh, she knew ’twas a necessary evil, but that did not mean she had to take any enjoyment in watching.
When the McLaren and Mackintosh men trained, one could always find a group of women, either wives or women who wanted to be wives, watching with great interest. Often times they would take a picnic, making it a more festive affair. Leona never joined them. ’Twasn’t as if any of them had extended an offer to begin with. But if they had, she would have politely declined.
“Och!” Alec exclaimed. “Did ye see how Andrew deflected Derrick’s sword?”
No, no she hadn’t. And she had no desire to. Unable to watch, she was staring at her boots.
Moments later, a man left the throngs and came to join them. “Good day to ye, Alec!” He greeted his laird with an extended hand.
Tearing her eyes away from her booted toes, she looked up. The man was massive. As tall as Alec, but he was built like a brick wall. Wide shoulders, broad chest, thick arms and legs. There was no mistaking he was a Bowie, what with his brown hair, dark eyes, and fierce countenance. ’Twas then she noticed a trail of blood running down the side of his face from a wound near his ear. “Good, lord!” she exclaimed. “Ye’re injured!”
Momentarily forgetting who she was, she dropped the basket and grabbed the end of her apron. She was about to lift it up to wipe away the blood when Alec pulled her back.
“Lass, Derrick be fine,” Alec told her.
The injured man, Derrick, was staring at her in wide-eyed confusion and shock.
“But he’s bleeding,” Leona argued.
“Aye,” Alec said. “That often happens when we train.”
Derrick laughed heartily. “’Tis naught but a scratch, mistress! But do no’ fash yerself over it. I got Fergus back. Took him a while before he could breathe again, but I got him back.”
It took every ounce of strength she had to bite her tongue, to keep from telling either her husband or Derrick, just what she thought of grown men fighting.
Smoothing down her apron, she stepped away, back to her husband’s side.
“Lass, this be Derrick Bowie,” Alec said, still smiling down at her. “Derrick, this be Leona, me wife.”
Before she could offer a pleased to meet ye, Derrick turned away and shouted. “Down with yer weapons, ye pox-riddled whores and piss poor excuses of wasted flesh! Our laird be here with his wife!”
Leona jumped at the sound of his deep voice breaking out and over the crowd. A moment later, all weapons and fighting came to a halt.
“Thank ye, Derrick,” Alec said.
“Ye’re welcome.”
Stunned, Leona was frozen in place when all attention was drawn her way. A few rapid heartbeats later, they were all walking toward her and their laird.
Grabbing her husband’s arm, she held on to him for a sense of security. Just why she felt terrified, she could not begin to understand. But terrified she was.
“Leona,” Alec whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “Do no’ look so afraid. They’ll think ye a weak woman.”
Oh, but she was afraid. Afraid of the wall of men approaching, afraid of making a fool of herself, afraid she might say or do the wrong thing. Still, she willed her nerves to settle by taking a deep, fortifying breath. Lifting her chin ever so slightly, she stared straight ahead and waited.
“Lads!” Alec called out to them as the living wall approached. They stopped, ten deep, and just a few feet away. “This be me wife, yer new mistress.”
None said a word. They offered what Leona could only hope were approving nods. ’Twas quite difficult to tell, for they all appeared so menacing.
“Now get back to work,” Alec commanded.
That was it? Leona was dumbfounded. They all turned and went back to training.
Alec took her elbow in one hand and scooped up her empty basket with the other.
“That be it?” she stammered.
“What be it?” he asked as he guided her across the yard and toward the keep.
“The introduction to yer men,” she replied as she stared up at him.
Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he said, “What more did ye want?”
She took in a deep breath and shook her head. “I—” she was suddenly at a loss for words. At least not any that he wouldn’t find offensive. “Ye did no’ even tell them my name, where I come from. Ye did no’ even ask them to declare their fealty toward me as your wife.” She had seen it only once before, the public declaration made from the clan’s warriors to the new laird’s wife. She had also witnessed the laird giving a public speech on how proud he was in his choice of wife.
Alec drew to a halt and stared down at her in astonishment. “They already ken yer name, though they’ll never
use it. As fer where ye come from, they ken that as well. As fer their fealty, they already declared it to me. There be no reason to declare it to ye, fer ye are me wife. Ye already have it.”
Oh, she knew she should have taken some measure of relief in what he was telling her. They be Bowies, she reminded herself. ’Tis too much to hope they would behave as others ye’ve known in yer life.
Deciding it best to keep the rest of her opinions to herself, she offered Alec the warmest smile she could muster. “Thank ye fer settin’ the matter straight in me head, Alec.”
“Think nothin’ of it, lass,” he replied with a gentle pat on her hand.
Out of the hundreds of people Leona met, there were only two — besides the children — who treated her with any amount of kindness; Auld Melvin and Effie. They were the only bright spots in an otherwise dark day.
She chose to focus on that; on the kindness she had received from Melvin and Effie. The day had not gone at all as she had hoped it would, but she would not lament it, nor would she feel sorry for herself. Although she was worn out and wanted nothing more than to take a nap, there was still much she needed to do.
As they walked into the gathering room, Alec asked how she enjoyed her day.
“Effie was verra nice,” Leona said. She decided to focus on the pleasant woman who she was certain would be her friend and ally. “I think she and I will get along well.”
“She be a good woman,” he replied as he stopped near the large hearth. “I made arrangements with Charles to bring ye fresh milk in the morns. And Dewey, he will be makin’ sure ye have plenty of firewood.”
Taken aback, she stopped and turned to face him. “That was verra kind of ye.” She was unable to read his expression and began to grow wary under his gaze. Had she done something wrong?
“And Phillip Bowie, he will be bringin’ ye some venison on the morrow. He had a good hunt recently and I was able to purchase the meat from him.”
Oh, she would very much like to serve her husband a fine meal of roast venison, with vegetables and fruits.
The Bowie Bride: Book Two of The Mackintoshes and McLarens Page 12
