The Highlander's Bride (12 page)

“Well. Now, I’m very sorry about my behavior. It was inexcusable.”

“Oh, no, lass. Your temper is fine. We like it.”

“I’m sorry, Dooly. Did you say my temper—my horrible tendency to say the most improper things—pleases you?”

“Oh, aye, milady,” replied Glynis. “We knew you were a strong lass with courage when you stood up to the laird in the courtyard.”

Oh Lord, did everyone know about that? Laurel cringed as Glynis continued, “But now we know that you mean to be honorable. We know that you mean what you say and have the determination to see it is done.”

“Well, of course, I mean nothing dishonorable. Did you really think otherwise?” she asked the crowd and received several grins and nods in return. “What in all of Scotland would give you that idea?!”

“You defied the laird.”

“Aye, you defied and refused to be repentant.”

“Aye, I saw it with my own eyes,” said one older lad. It was untrue, of course. His father had witnessed the exchange and relayed the story that either their laird was soon to have an English wife, or that the English grew them stupid, to so disrespect a powerful Scottish laird like McTiernay. His father had suspected the first was true as the laird had demanded that she call him by his proper name.

Just dying of curiosity now, Laurel asked, “So, my contempt for your laird’s instructions that I must stay in his keep makes me honorable?”

“Oh, no. That just makes you spirited.”

“Aye—that or stupid,” said young Torrey under his breath.

His friend immediately defended her. “The laird’s lady is not stupid!”

Glynis ignored the squabble and tried to explain. “It is your defense of the laird’s mother and her desires that makes you honorable.”

Laurel was getting dizzy from all the double talk. These people were certainly friendly, but as a group they could quickly confuse a person. She had to take control of the conversation and now.

“Thank you for the clarification—I think. But now, I would like to discuss my plans for this keep. First the lower hall and the kitchen.”

Everyone instantly began to resist the idea. “The kitchen, milady? Are you sure you want to…” Laurel cut their questions and doubts off. She hated to do it, but if she let them finish stating all their reservations about every decision, she would get nothing done before Conor returned.

While she had been honest about receiving Conor’s permission to make some changes, she was fairly certain that he had not realized the transformation she had in mind. But once it was done, he would be pleased, she told herself. Yes, for who could want to live this way?

“Yes, I am sure that changes are needed in the kitchen,” she affirmed. “But first we are to deal with the lower hall. Torrey?”

“Aye, milady?”

“Please go find Finn, and ask if he could meet me later. I need to speak to him about some new rules concerning the courtyard and the lower hall.”

Torrey could not hide his shock. “Go now, Torrey,” Laurel stated in her most authoritative voice and watched him dash out the doors. She then asked the group to follow her to the lower hall.

Yesterday, she had seen the lower hall and had wondered at its condition. It had been clear that the rushes were old. In the areas where they were gone, she had seen a collection of ale, grease, bones, excrement, spittle, and many other nasty things left to rot, grow or reek.

As they entered the foul-smelling room, Laurel began giving instructions. She had not realized that she had switched to the Gaelic tongue, speaking quickly about how all of the rushes were to be thrown away and replaced with new ones.

She wanted to rearrange a few of the tables so that servers would find it easier to enter and exit the room. The whole room was to be brushed and the windows washed. The fireplaces were to be cleaned and dried logs brought in and placed by the hearths.

“There, well, that should be a good start. I think that returning the lower hall to a decent state will be the most challenging task. So I am assigning most of you to work in this room for the time being. In the following days, I will most likely spread you out to different areas of the keep.” Then she smiled.

The hearts Laurel had not secured with her confidence were won by her command of their language. And the last couple of men from the older generation, who were still debating on whether or not to accept her, were immediately ensnared by her smile.

“Fallon. I would like to place you in charge of lower hall if you would be willing.”

“Aye, lass, I would be willing. But how are we to clean the hall with the soldiers eating and socializing at the same time?”

“No soldiers are to enter the hall until it is completed.”

“But that may take several days,” replied Fallon, trying to ensure that he understood her correctly.

“True, and they will just have to find somewhere else to talk and eat. I have eaten, slept, and conversed outdoors and I promise you that it is better than this hall,” Laurel asserted as she waved her hand indicating the untidiness of the floor. “Glynis? Brighid? Please lead me to the kitchen. Fallon, that is where we will be if you need me.” And then she turned to leave, listening as Fallon began to bark instructions to the remaining group.

Once outside, Laurel turned to Glynis. “Glynis, I want to ask you a question, and I want your complete honesty.”

“Of course.”

“Would you consider taking on a larger, permanent position here at the castle? Specifically, I am talking about the becoming the McTiernay housekeeper. I realize that those positions are very unusual, but…”

“Milady, that is your position.”

“But…as I am
not
the lady of the keep, the size of the castle definitely requires one regardless. I know this is unexpected, but would you consider it? At least for a little while? Or would your husband…”

“Oh no, Dudley would be proud and my girls can take over the work done at home. But it is such a large job. I used to help Lady McTiernay, God rest her soul, with chores, but housekeeper! Only the grandest of places have them and housekeeper, well, it is so important. I do not want to disappoint you, lass.”

Laurel could tell Glynis was just a little shaken up at the thought. She had reverted to calling her lass instead of milady. “Do not worry, Glynis. I have experience running large keeps, but I must admit, not one in this condition. What we really need is a castle steward, but I am unsure how to go about finding one.” She paused, thinking about how and to whom the work should be assigned. “It will take considerable work to get the castle back into shape and train a staff to maintain it. But, I trust you, and I know that you will be honest with me. I need someone to tell me about highland customs and answer my questions. Will you do it? No, don’t answer. Please speak with your husband first and give me your answer in the morning.”

Then she turned to Brighid. “If you would please show me the way to the kitchen, Brighid. Glynis, who is the cook?”

“Umm, today it bein’ Fiona’s turn, so the food should be quite good. She enjoys the kitchen.”

“You mean that cooking is shared by many women? And some of them do not like to do it?”

“Oh, most hate the chore, lass. They have family to take care of and the extra burden of cooking for the clan’s warriors is difficult for some to manage.”

“Why, I assume it would be. And who is the best cook?”

“Definitely Fiona, milady. You should taste her black bun cake. Melts in your mouth it does. Nothing like Melinda’s. You had hers last night.” Laurel remembered last night’s meal. It was one of the reasons that she put the kitchen so high on her list of items that needed immediate attention. The food had been inedible. The bread was hard and stale, and the meat was undercooked and bland. She had been surprised that a clan of this size ate such poor fare.

They reached the kitchen and entered. Built between the great and lower halls, with doorways giving access to each, it was actually a set of smaller kitchens merged into a large room. There were several fireplaces to heat and cook meat plus a large central hearth.

The hearth was striking and surprisingly ornate, being located in the kitchen. It was a square stone structure built so the smoke vented out of the room. Behind the kitchen she could see fragments of the scullery where the utensils were washed and the fowl was prepped for cooking.

Laurel had been in several cookhouses as a child visiting her grandfather and friends of her mother. To her recollection, the McTiernay kitchen was very nice with plenty of room to work and clean.

“Hello, Fiona?” Laurel asked, directing her question to the person thumping and kneading dough on a wooden slab. The gray-haired, stoutly built woman did not even look up but continued with her kneading. “My name is Laurel, and I am to be Laird McTiernay’s guest for the winter.” Still no response. “In order to get me to stay, he consented to my making some improvements to the keep.” Fiona was not making this easier for her. The others in the hall could not wait to talk to her. It seemed Fiona could not wait for her to be quiet and leave. Well, Fiona was going to have to wait until spring to get that wish granted, Laurel thought.

“Fiona, knead away. But listen to me carefully. You are now the cook of this keep. You will no longer be switching duties with other wives and women of the clan. The kitchen and its assistants will be your responsibility. The quality of the food will reflect on you. If it is not suitable for eating, you will be replaced. Do you understand?”

The old woman just kept kneading the dough, except with a little more forcefulness. Laurel knew she was in a test of wills and was not going to be the first to flinch. Suddenly, Fiona’s brows bunched together. “Can I choose me own help?” she asked.

“Yes, but you need to tell Glynis who they are. Their duties will include helping you prepare and serve the meals.”

“Can I choose the menu?”

“Hmmm. Choosing the menu should be done either with me or the housekeeper. But we will certainly listen to your ideas.” As she watched Fiona ponder on the change in her position at the keep, Laurel guessed the true obstacle to Fiona’s acceptance.

Fiona loved to cook. She was good at it, and she knew the laird appreciated her contributions. It made her proud. But it was also back-breaking work, especially with the men constantly hollering for fodder at all times of the day and night.

“Fiona, just one more thing. The meals will now be served three times a day. Soldiers who constantly bellow for food are unpleasant and rude, not to mention the havoc it causes in the kitchen. Please coordinate with Finn about when those times are to be. We can be accommodating, but only so far. You think on it, Fiona, and please let me know.”

“Did I hear my name?” Finn asked as he loomed large in the kitchen doorframe.

“You did, Finn. Would you walk with me? Glynis, please work with Fiona on today’s menu. After Finn and I have talked, I would like a tour of the castle.”

“The whole castle? Not just the keep?”

“Yes, the whole castle,” Laurel anwered. She turned, smiled at Finn, and then proceeded towards the courtyard with a regal bearing that just commanded compliance. Finn wondered if she realized it, or if it just came naturally to her.

“So, milady, I hear that you are making changes to the lower hall and none of my men are to enter,” he said gruffly. She was about to defend her orders when she saw him grin. Would she ever understand these highlanders? Most likely not, but she was fond of them. Yes, she liked them quite a lot.

“Finn, I understand that as commander of the guard that you are essentially in charge of the soldiers and their training while Conor is away?”

“Even while he is here, milady.”

“Oh, is that so? Well, I would like to ask your assistance with several things.”

Finn gave her speculative glance. “If I can be of service.”

“Well, first, as you know, I would appreciate it if your men would stay away from the lower hall until it has been cleaned and aired out. I assume that will not be problem or you would have already said something.”

His brows rose in appreciation of her astuteness. “You know me well.”

“No, I am just beginning to recognize that when highlanders do not like something, they are quick to bellow or quarrel.”

Finn laughed out loud, but did not deny the truth of her remark.

Laurel joined his laughter. “It is but a small request, yet the lower hall should be better maintained.”

“The men will welcome that,” he stated as they strode towards the bake house.

“I agree. But, as the primary cause of the accumulation of dirt and food on the floor, I expect your soldiers to be the primary solution.” Finn understood her point, but did not know what she expected of him and asked for clarification.

“It is your job as their commander to see to their behavior both on and off the field, is it not?”

“Of course.”

“Then, Finn, I expect your soldiers to act like the men their mothers raised. I am sure that they were not allowed to be slovenly and without manners while growing up. Please see that they behave properly from now on.” Without giving him a chance to argue, she continued. “Next, we need to talk about meal times. The food is going to be much improved in the future but, in order to maintain good help, you have to treat it with respect and appreciation. Fiona is going to be running the kitchen, and you will need to confer with her about when the meals are to be served.”

Finn interrupted. “Fiona is going to be doing all the cooking from now on?” When she nodded, he asked, “How did you manage that?”

Laurel gave him a sly smile. “Does it matter?”

“Aye, Fiona is the best cook of the clan. With that single maneuver, I expect you will be able to get away with all your changes now. I was wondering how the laird was going to react to all your changes, but with Fiona cooking—well, I suggest you use it as a lever, and he will cave to all your demands.” He grinned mischievously.

“As I said,” she tried to sound imposing but failed miserably, “speak with Fiona about the times your men are to be fed. Only three meals, mind you. I suggest you remember your own words when working something out with her. If you want her to feed you, you might want to compromise in her direction.”