Anice's Bargain

by Madeline Martin

  Tall Tam’s mouth fell open, revealing several missing molars. “But I’ve got complaints about the baker’s boy—”

  “If any of ye lift a finger to help him,” James said to the waiting crowd. “I will force ye to the back of the line with him.”

  The people waiting immediately stiffened and threw hostile glares in Tall Tam’s direction. With a lord once more established in Caldrick Castle, they did not want to ruin their opportunity for their grievances to be heard.

  And hear them, James did. A thatch roof that had fallen in on an old widow’s cottage in need of repair, a man who swore his neighbors were stealing eggs, followed by the panicked neighbors who swore the missing eggs were due to a fox. On and on the list went, with several he had to tuck away to bring to the Earl of Werrick for the next Truce Day between the March Wardens.

  As it was, the line did not finish within the time allotted and the remainder of the people, Tall Tam included, would need to return the following day.

  The remainder of the daylight would need to be spent with the Graham reivers who had arrived on James’s heels. They waited for him in the fields outside the castle, restless and moving about with impatience. At their head was James’s father and Anice.

  The full sun overhead warmed over Anice’s golden hair and made her eyes sparkle. Or perhaps it was the way she smiled at him that did it. Either way, she was lovely. And she was there to offer her support.

  Piquette bounded over to James and stuck fast to his side, there to support him as well. Which was much appreciated when his father glowered at him with distaste, obviously opposed to the plan, regardless of his hand in making it happen.

  The opportunity had been offered to all of the clan, but it appeared only half were interested, based on the number of people in front of him. The rest most likely remained in the pele towers in the Debatable Lands, content with reiving and not willing to sacrifice such a life.

  The crowd of people in front of him, clustered with children and women, gazed at him with open skepticism.

  “I’m glad so many of ye came,” James said. He hadn’t anticipated such a number. “Our timing is good, as crops are needing to be planted now.”

  “So, ye expect us to work the land, and then we pay ye for the right to do so?” A heavyset man asked from the front.

  “Aye, Gilly.” James nodded. “Ye have the harvest to feed yer family with and to sell for coin.”

  “And we owe ye a portion of our harvest as well?” Another man’s voice asked in the back.

  “Aye.” James put up his hands to stay the questions lest they be hurtled at him too quickly. “The land is good, verra fertile. Ye can make a home here, one that willna be burned down, and ye can feed yer family with food ye grew with yer own hands. Ye will always have enough food to eat and ye willna need to risk yer lives to get it. Ye came here for an opportunity, one of peace and prosperity. And I mean to give it to ye.”

  An approving murmur hummed through the clan.

  Laird Graham folded his arms over his chest and cast a smirking grin in James’s direction. “Now how are ye going to teach these reivers how to farm?”

  “I’d already thought of that.” James turned to Engelbart. “When is the farmer going to arrive?”

  The knob in Engelbart’s neck bobbed with his hard swallow. “I do not believe he will be coming today, Mr. Graham.”

  James stared hard at the skinny steward. “Why would he no’ come?”

  Engelbart began to quake. “Be-because you didn’t see him to hear his grievances.”

  James fought his rising irritation with as much patience as he could muster. “Why dinna ye tell me he was there? I’d have heard his first.”

  “I was going to.” Engelbart’s fear faded in light of his apparent exasperation. “But you told him to get to the back of the line and I wasn’t about to speak against you in front of your people.”

  James closed his eyes against the realization of who the assisting farmer was. “Do ye mean…?”

  “Aye.” Engelbart gave an apologetic smile. “He is Tall Tam.”

  The unrest in the Graham clan made itself known with several squabbles between the masses, boredom quickly leading to fighting. While Anice was not near enough to hear the conversation between James and the young steward, she could sense it would not possess a positive outcome. Especially in light of the delayed farmer.

  She faced her husband’s clan. “While we wait on the farmer, I’ll explain how it will all work.”

  They ignored her at first; mostly the wives, rather than the husbands, who were content to simply stare at her. She tamped down her ire. If they gaped at her for her appearance, hopefully some of what she said might get in as well.

  She began first with the basics, explaining how the plough would be dragged over the soil by oxen to turn the strips of land for planting. As she spoke, more and more of the clan began to regard her with interest, some even appearing to actually listen. She went on to detail how some of the fields would be used for dredge, a combination of oats and barley, while some would be used for peas and beans.

  “The peas and beans take a bit of work,” Anice admitted. “But the effects are worth the effort as the food stocks will store well throughout winter and will provide hearty fare.”

  “How do you do it?” A woman with a long dark braid asked.

  Anice knelt to the basket at her feet and withdrew a stick that had been whittled smooth by Leila some months back. She had deemed it too long and so had given it to Anice, who was now grateful for the bit of wood.

  Anice held it out for everyone to see. “This is a dibbler.” She scooped up a handful of small hard peas and approached the group of several dozen men, women and children. “First you poke it into the ground, not too deep, but not too shallow.” She jabbed at the firm earth. “It will be softer once it’s turned.”

  After a sufficient hole was dented into the ground, Anice held the hand clutching the hard peas over the crevice. “Then you drop in several peas. Not too many or the plants will all lose their battle to take root, but not too few, or you won’t have a sufficient harvest.”

  “How many then?” the woman with the braid asked.

  “In Werrick, we often did four.” Anice let four peas roll out of her hand and into the soil, which she then patted over to seal them within.

  “And ye helped with planting?” a red-haired woman asked, brows raised with skepticism.

  “Not always,” Anice admitted. “But we all helped a bit every year. Father insisted we all know the land.” She glanced to a little girl whose red curls matched her mother’s. “Would you like to try?”

  The little girl slid a wary glance at Piquette, who had left James’s side to see what was being put in the earth and if it was worth digging back up.

  “He won’t hurt you.” Anice rubbed a hand over Piquette’s head and the great dog tried to lick her face. She laughed and drew her head away.

  “May I pet him?” the girl asked.

  “Aye.” Anice waved the child over.

  Without bothering to look up at her mother for approval, the girl raced over and patted Piquette on the head in rough bounces. Poor Piquette handled the assault with quiet endurance.

  “What’s your name?” Anice took the girl’s hand gently and showed her how to properly pet the dog. Piquette’s tail swung back and forth with appreciation.

  “Mairi.” The girl spoke without bothering to look up from the dog.

  “See?” Anice rubbed her hand over Piquette’s ears. “He’s not at all frightening.”

  Mairi smiled brightly.

  Anice held the dibbling stick to her and knelt down so they were eye level. “Would you like to try?”

  Mairi nodded shyly and took the stick.

  “Jab it into the ground now.” Anice made a stabbing motion.

  The girl did as she was bade.

  “Perfect. Now put your finger in it to determine if it’s deep enough.” Anice demonstrated with her own pin
ky. Mairi followed suit.

  “Is that deep enough?” Anice asked.

  The girl nodded with a proud smile.

  “It is,” Anice confirmed. “Now take these peas.”

  “Four!”

  “Aye, four.” Anice doled out the peas. “And put them in the ground.”

  The girl did it with all the clan watching on. Her fingers, still dimpled with youth, patted down the earth to cover the planted seeds.

  “I want to do it again.” She poked the earth, stuck her finger in the hole, nodded with authority and held out her hand for peas.

  Anice handed her the remainder of the seeds in her hand. “Last one. The rest we must save for sowing, as these will be turned up when the land is ploughed.”

  Mairi gave her a long, considering look, then knelt by the little hole she’d covered up previously and dug. With deft fingers, she plucked out not only her own four peas planted, but the ones Anice had sown.

  She handed them to Anice with a solemn expression. “We should save these for harvest. Food shouldna be wasted.”

  “That’s very prudent of you.” Anice closed her hand around the gift. It always softened her heart how children, who had gone without for so long, had to possess such a profound understanding of how important it was to conserve.

  Mairi ignored the praise and instead tenderly pet Piquette once more. The dog took advantage and lapped at her face, much to Mairi’s giggling delight.

  Anice got to her feet and addressed the clan. “The work can be done. The children can help, not only with the planting, but also when the shoots come up to keep birds and animals away.” She turned to James.

  He watched her with a curious expression on his face, his brow furrowed. Suddenly she was self-conscious of the dirt dusting her knees from having knelt, and how it hardened into dry grit in the creases of her hands. She swept at an errant hair tickling her cheek in her discomfort, and immediately regretted the act, as it no doubt left dirt streaking her skin.

  He had married a lady, and she was not acting like one.

  “Aye, it can be done.” James strode forward and stood at Anice’s side. “And if ye need any help figuring it out, ye need only ask Mairi.”

  The little girl straightened with pride and beamed out at her clan.

  They all nodded to one another, agreeing the work did not appear complicated. Once it was determined the plowing would start the following day, the parceling out of land was completed, assigned by Engelbart who knew the lay of it better than most. Some plots had thatch homes still on them from the previous tenants, and others would need to be built.

  Those whose dwellings had not yet been built returned to the keep to stay until they had their own shelter.

  All the while, Anice cast anxious glances in James’s direction, curious at the way he’d looked at her, and hoped she had not compromised his authority by taking the lead.

  20

  James could scarce take his eyes off Anice. This woman, bonny beyond words, elegant without compare, had sunk into the dirt like a peasant and dug into the earth to plant peas. Not only had she performed the task to educate his people, but she’d done it in such a clever way in showing the child so that no adult could possibly complain about the difficulty of the task without coming across as a dullard.

  He had not been the only one impressed with his wife’s lack of concern in settling in the dirt. The women of the crowd had been heard protesting among themselves at Mistress Graham for having ruined so fine a gown, but there had been pride in their eyes. Their mistress was as comfortable in the dirt as they. It brought her to a real level they could understand and appreciate.

  In one singular act, Anice had paved the way for his dream to become a reality. She glanced shyly up at him now. A smudge of soil showed on her cheek. He stretched a hand out to wipe it away and she swept her lashes down to hide her expression.

  “Forgive me if I embarrassed you.” She flicked a cautious glimpse up at him. “Or if I perchance stepped over your authority.”

  “I’m no’ embarrassed, mo leannan. I’m impressed.”

  A pretty flush spread over her cheeks. He liked that about her, how his flattering words made her blush. Morna hadn’t been like that. She’d drunk in compliments like strong wine. They intoxicated her, emboldened her. They made her brash and uncaring. The heartless wench.

  But not James’s Anice. His compliments never ceased to warm her fair skin, and he relished every shade of pink he could inspire.

  “I knew ye had a bit of knowledge about planting, but I thought that was gardening. I dinna know ye were aware of how to work the land.” He put a hand to her lower back, the move as protective as it was intimate, and led her through the wide castle entrance. “’Tis not the work of a lady.”

  “Nor is battle, but many have been won with the addition of women.” She tilted her head in a coy gesture. “And ladies.”

  “After seeing the way ye fight, I believe ye.”

  She ducked her head, but not before he saw that he’d made her blush again.

  He grinned.

  “Tell me how ye came to learn how to tend the land.” He guided her down the long corridor of the castle, being careful not to get lost himself. She was right. Every bit of the interior was nearly identical. It was all too easy to get turned about.

  Her answer did not come swiftly. In fact, it came after a great, hesitant pause. “The same way I learned to fight.”

  The dullness of her words dropped a heavy pit into the depths of his stomach. He didn’t think he would like the response, but he had to know.

  “How?” he pressed.

  “The attack from yer clan.” She paused and glanced at a door.

  “Two more down,” he noted.

  She continued walking, albeit faster. Evidently wanting to be done with this conversation.

  “Many of our vassals were slain in the attack,” she said. “There were not enough left to complete the planting on their own. Every able-bodied man, woman and child needed to help. I was an able-bodied child, as were my sisters.” She shrugged, as if it were no big thing she’d done. “We’ve aided in the following years as well, to keep it tucked into our minds how to perform the task should we have need again. You know there is little peace of mind on the border.”

  He stopped in front of her door. “And ye learned to fight because of my clan as well?”

  “Papa wanted to send us away, but we’d just lost our mother. Leaving Papa made us feel as though we were being orphaned.” Anice worked at a speck of dirt clinging to her cuticle, a mote barely visible in the low light of the hall. “Our father insisted if we were to stay, we had to learn to protect ourselves. And so we did.”

  “I’m glad he did. Ye should have known as much from the first.”

  “We were children,” she said. “And most women, especially ladies, do not know how to lift a weapon with skill.”

  “Ye’re extraordinary.”

  “I’m not.” She lowered her head, but he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently guided her to look back up at him.

  “Ye are.” He stroked her cheek, so supple and sweet, as all of her was. And he knew well exactly how much so. “Thank ye for what ye did today.”

  He curled his fingers to the back of her neck and her mouth softened, parted. His lips came down on hers. He’d meant only a simple kiss, but the silkiness of her tongue darted out and swept against his. With a groan, he’d pulled her more firmly against him and deepened their kiss. She leaned against the door and it rattled on its hinges.

  “My lady, I’m so glad ye’ve come back.” A voice spoke on the other side, oblivious to the passion simmering between the two in the hall.

  James had just enough time to pull back from his wife as the maid opened the door, a smile on her face.

  “I’ve got just the gown for ye to wear to—” Ava froze mid-word and bobbed a curtsey. “Mr. Graham, forgive me.” Her bright blue gaze darted between the two, red-lipped and flushed. �
��Shall I leave ye, my lady?”

  “Nay.” Anice put a hand to her chest. “Nay, I must ready for supper and I’d love to see the gown you’ve chosen. I wouldn’t have such consideration go to waste.”

  “I hope you’ll be pleased.” Ava glanced down at the ground and twisted her hands together. “I’m afraid I’m none too good at all this, Mistress.”

  She had confided to Anice earlier that morning that she missed her place in the kitchens, the task she’d been familiar with.

  “I’m sure it will be perfect,” Anice said. “You always pick out such lovely gowns.”

  The smile returned to Ava’s face. “By your leave, Mr. Graham.”

  James nodded and allowed a door to be placed between himself and his wife. A hollow ache rang out in him at her disappearance. A curious thing, that. He’d only felt it once previously, and to a woman far less deserving, and only a shadow of what he currently was experiencing. This time was so much brighter, more vibrant, powerful. The sensation was entirely undeniable.

  Despite his efforts to avoid it, and no matter how many times he’d told himself he would not feel such, it appeared his stubbornness was all in vain. Regardless of how James weighed it, he was keenly aware of the ultimate truth. Somewhere between the bravery to save her family and the unique skills she possessed, in addition to the genuine kindness shown to all, James was falling swiftly in love with his wife.

  It was the sound of shouting that drew Anice to the great hall the following day. The people of Carlisle had come to bring their grievances to James, to remedy as only the master of the land could.

  Anice recognized the sour-faced man at once, the very source of all the roaring commotion. A nagging voice in the back of her mind insisted she stalk up to him and demand to know what he was carrying on about. Her more logical, however, was simply curious to see how it all might be handled. She summoned Piquette to her side behind a column to allow James to handle his people.

  “Tall Tam, ye again.” James’s voice echoed from the stone walls. “What is the meaning of this?”