Page 14 of Married for a Highland Debt
Abruptly, Ninian pushed her away. “Yes, she was,” he admitted angrily. “She probably still is. I think it is time we went back now.”
“Wait.” She grabbed his arm. “Ninian, have I done something or said something wrong?” She was mystified. What had come over him all of a sudden?
Ninian yanked his arm out of her grasp, glaring at her. “No. Nothing,” he replied. “Come back to the castle. I have work to do.”
He began to stride up the hill, and Bettina tried to follow as best she could, but she could not keep up with him. When he reached the top, he stood, tapping his foot impatiently until she reached him. She was breathless, but he turned away and marched inside, leaving her to follow him more slowly, wondering what unknown line she had crossed this time.
7
Inchgarvie Castle was a lovely place to live in many ways. Bettina treated the staff in the same way she had always done when she was one of them, and they were delighted that she had not changed. She visited the kitchen often, even though Lizzie would smack her hand and glare at her every time she tried to chop a turnip or peel the skin from a rabbit.
“Will ye no’ dae that?” she asked angrily as she wrested a knife out of Bettina’s hand one morning and brushed breadcrumbs from her new dress. “Ye will get me intae trouble wi’ the laird for lettin’ his future wife ruin a’ these nice dresses o’ yers.”
Bettina sighed as she rested her elbows on the long table. “Will you not let me do ANYTHING?” she complained. “I cannot just sit about admiring the pattern on the wallpaper all day!”
“Aye,” Moira answered. “Take these bowls o’ porridge outside for the bairns an’ make sure they eat it.” She narrowed her eyes and playfully pointed a bread knife at Bettina. “I know ye an’ yer soft heart. Dinnae let them bairns trample a’ over ye. Go away an’ dinnae come back ’til those plates are empty!”
“Yes, Moira.” Bettina laughed as she took a tray bearing bowls, spoons, and a pot of porridge with her. The three women watched her as the door closed behind her, then Ina sighed.
“She is too good for that man,” Moira grumbled, shaking her head. “Much too good. Mind ye, that other one was a nasty bit o’ work, an’ I was glad tae see the back o’ her. But if our lass doesnae bear children, what will happen tae her?”
“Aye, she doesnae have a rich family tae go tae,” Lizzie observed. “Or I dinnae think so. She never talks about her family, does she?”
“No, never,” Ina remarked. “Whenever we mention it, she always talks aboot somethin’ else. Poor lass. She is likely unhappy at home.”
“The wee sister is nice,” Moira remarked. “An’ the bairns like her. Bairns are great judges o’ these things. They can tell a good person fae a bad far quicker than we can.”
The others murmured in agreement.
“Speakin’ o’ bad people,” Lizzie said, frowning, “did ye hear that uncle o’ the laird is comin’ tae visit? Him wi’ a’ the airs an’ graces.”
Moira and Ina groaned. “Finds somethin’ wrong wi’ his food no matter how nice it’s cooked.” Moira growled. “Cannae stand him.”
They sat peeling vegetables and gossiping for a short while until Bettina came back, her dress covered with smears and drips of porridge.
“I knew them bairns would run rings round ye! What happened?” Lizzie asked, grimacing at the mess as she came forward with a damp cloth to repair the damage.
“Young Geordie got into a fight with Robbie over who was young Ailsa’s sweetheart,” she explained, “and Geordie knocked over Robbie’s bowl, so he knocked over Geordie’s in revenge, and they were about to get started with their fists when I called one of the guards to pull them apart.”
“An’ I’ll wager that wee madam Ailsa was sittin’ watchin’ wi’ a big smile on her face like the cat that stole the cream,” Moira said grimly. “Ten years old an’ them boys are already fightin’ over women!”
They giggled, then looked up, intrigued as Bettina produced something from behind her back. “Surprise!” she exclaimed as she placed the bottle of wine on the table. The women gasped. Wine was such an expensive luxury that none of them had ever had more than a glass or two in her life.
“Where did ye get it?” Lizzie asked, staring at the bottle as though it had descended from heaven.
“I stole it,” Bettina said wickedly. “From the wine cellar. I think my friends deserve it. The snobs should not get all the fun.”
“Thank ye, Bridie!” Moira cried, throwing her arms around her friend. “I hope ye wilnae forget us when ye’re married.”
“It’s Bettie, you silly goose!” Bettina laughed. “And I will need all the friends I can get when I am the laird’s wife.”
“Ye will always be ‘Bridie’ tae me, hen,” Moira replied fondly. Bettina had taken up a special place in all their hearts.
They had no glasses, so they drank the wine from clay goblets, but it tasted none the worse for that, and after the cups had been emptied, Bettina stood up and smiled at all of them.
“Time for me to face the dragon,” she sighed.
Lizzie caught her hand. “Are ye sure this is what ye want tae dae, hen?” she asked anxiously. “There is still time tae change yer mind.”
