Page 12 of Bride of the Wicked Laird
They retraced their steps along the battlements and down the stairs. Once again, they were outside the keep, crossing the courtyard. Aileen led the way past the herb garden, whereDavina would have liked to linger, to the cottage that was a twin of the one she occupied.
A tall man opened the door to Aileen’s knock.
He grinned and bobbed his head. “Why me lady, this is a rare treat tae have ye visit.”
“I’ve brought someone tae meet ye. This is Mistress Davina, who has skills in healing and growing herbs,” she turned to Davina. “This is our castle healer Broderick.”
The pleasant-faced man turned to Davina. “I am most pleased tae meet ye, mistress. Are ye staying there?” He indicated the cottage nearby.
“I am. And while I am here, I would like tae be of use tae ye. I have some experience of growing herbs and healing.”
He flashed her a beguiling smile. “Indeed. I would greatly welcome someone with yer skills.”
Davina found herself smiling. She was beginning to feel more at home. The idea of working with Broderick was appealing. In the convent she had always felt most comfortable when she was in the garden.
“Well. That’s settled then. Mayhap Mistress Davina will join ye tomorrow,” Aileen turned to Davina. “Will that suit ye?”
“I will be happy tae begin me tasks on the morrow.”
“Now, would ye join me in the solar? I have arranged fer refreshments tae be brought tae us. But first we must seek out Mistress Jonnet our seamstress and see what she can dae fer ye.”
Davina hesitated. “I’m afraid I dinnae have any coin. I’ll nay be able tae pay fer Mistress Jonnet’s services.” She looked down at the pale-pink kirtle and apron she had on. “Mildred very kindly loaned me these this morning, else I’d have naught tae wear.”
“Nonsense.” Aileen was matter-of-fact. “Everard has brought ye here, and as his guest he must assist ye and provide whatever ye need. If that is a sheaf of new gowns, then so be it.”
“But should I nae ask him first?”
“Ishall tellhim we have ordered new gowns and pinafores when next I see him.”
Davina shook her head. This seemed all wrong to her.
Aileen smiled and took her arm. “Dinnae fret. When I came here, I was much like ye. I had naught but the britches I had on and the remnants of an old and tattered blue gown. The Laird’s sister kindly allowed me tae wear some of her dresses. I shall dae the same fer ye until Mistress Jonnet’s needles have produced what ye need.”
That wheedled a faint smile from Davina. Although she’d protested, the idea of something new, and mayhap even something pretty to wear, tugged at her heartstrings. She had chaffed under the prickly, rough-woven, woolen robes of the convent for far too long.
They found the seamstress in the small sewing-room beside the solar. She was surrounded by threads and snips of fabric. A young lass was beside her sewing patchwork from all the discarded pieces.
Mistress Jonnet took one look at Davina after the introductions and a smile stretched her face.
“She’s charming. With such a slender figure she will look wonderful in the simplest of gowns.”
Davina felt her cheeks flush with heat at the compliment. Hearing herself described in such a way was entirely new.
Once the measuring was done, Jonnet brought out several lengths of linen for Davina to select the color. She chose a deep-blue and another in pale-pink like the one she had on. Then she was asked to choose from samples of wool. Only the woolen fabrics she showed her were smooth and soft, nothing like her nun’s garb. She chose a plaid in the MacNeil colors, not aware of other patterns that might relate to her family, and a dark green.
“We’ll have the first of them ready fer ye on the morrow. Ye’ll need tae come after ye’ve broken yer fast and we’ll make sure of the fit before we sew up the hem and finish the seams.”
Davina was almost bouncing when they left the seamstress and entered the solar.
The deep cushions on the chairs were more than comfortable, and the fire glowing red and gold in the hearth cast a mellow light through the room. Although it was immensely pleasurable Davina had a feeling she should be hard at work somewhere else. Scrubbing pots in the kitchen, or wrangling garments in the laundry. Leisure was something she would have to learn.
Aileen noticed Davina’s discomfort as she sat rigidly in the chair.
“Is something wrong?” She asked quietly.
“Nay. Nay. Of course, nae. Everything is delightful and far more than I could ever have expected. It’s just that… I’m nae used tae sitting, daeing naught, and as ye and the laird have been so kind, I feel I should be making meself useful.”
Aileen studied Davina briefly, then patted her hand. “Although we dinnae ken yer family, from yer speech and the way ye conduct yerself, Mistress Davina, it seems tae me that ye are nae meant fer the life of a servant but rather suited tae something more fer the gentle-born.”
