"We are just going to speak with cook, then have a little chat," Lady Wildwood announced when he got to his feet as if to approach them, adding firmly, "the sort of chat men are not welcome to join."
Much to Seonaid's amazement, Blake hesitated, then sank back into his chair and let them go on their way without interference. She peered at Lady Wildwood with new respect at this display of how to handle a man. Iliana's mother hadn't even raised her voice or had to make any sort of threat, and the man had behaved as beautifully as a well-trained puppy. Seonaid was impressed.
Once in the kitchen, the woman handled Elgin just as easily, greeting him with pleasure and gently flattering him until he was practically begging to do as she wished. Seonaid didn't know if she could emulate the woman's skill, but she was certainly impressed by it. Until Lady Wildwood said, "Perhaps we should see if Lord Blake has any dishes he prefers."
Seonaid scowled and suggested, "Rabbit stew."
"Hmmm. I think not."
Her tone of voice hadn't changed, but her smile had dimmed slightly. She'd obviously heard the tale of the poisoned stew. Seonaid supposed Gavin had blabbed about that to Duncan too and the tale had made its way to her father and then to Lady Wildwood. She wished it hadn't; she was suddenly feeling all squirmy inside with guilt under Lady Wildwood's solemn stare.
"I realize you were mightily offended by his delay in coming to collect you, Seonaid," Iliana's mother said gently. "And while I understand, I do not think you should take his actions to heart. After all, he did not know you, so it was not really you he was dallying over collecting, was it?"
"It wasna?"
"Nay."
"Then who was he dallyin' over collectin'?"
"You are being deliberately obtuse," she said with exasperation. "Surely you understand what I mean. Had he met you and known you before this, then you would have every right to be offended at his delay. But as he did not even know you, it is not you personally he was neglecting to collect, but your name. Your father's daughter. Now that he knows you, he is obviously pleased to marry you."
"He is?" she asked with amazement.
"Aye. Well, he did not need to chase you all over Scotland, dear. He could have gone to the king at any point after your battle at St. Simmian's and claimed he had done his part, that you were not co-operating and he wanted his freedom from the contract. In fact, the way you attacked him at the abbey would have worked to his favor in gaining his freedom had he truly wanted it."
"So, ye think he's awantin' to marry me?" Seonaid asked with interest.
"Aye. I do."
"Why?"
"Why?" she echoed with confusion.
"Why should he want to marry me? I ken nothin' about bein' a proper lady and wife. I canna sew, I canna run the servants, I--" Catching sight of Elgin edging closer and bending his ear their way to try to hear what she was saying, Seonaid scowled at the man and barked, "Get back to work on that colcannon else we'll have none fer sup."
The man leapt to it without question.
"Aye, well ..." Lady Wildwood cleared her throat. "You could learn to have a gentler hand with the servants, perhaps, but you do know how to order them. As for sewing and such, Lord Blake will have servants to do those things."
Seonaid considered her words, then sighed. "I doona even ken what a lady is supposed to know. I only ken that I doona know it."
Lady Wildwood pondered the matter briefly, then said, "Aye, but you know other things most ladies do not. For instance, I understand you and Aeldra have been to battle with the men?"
"Aye." Seonaid smiled wryly. "And we just as often have to sew 'em up afterward too."
"You do?" she asked with sudden excitement.
"Aye. They're a great lot of babies about such things, ye ken. Most of 'em whine and whinge and flinch at the very idea of stitching up a wound or having whiskey poured over it, so Giorsal taught us how to tend them."
"But that is wonderful!" Lady Wildwood enthused.
"It is?" Seonaid asked slowly. "Why?"
"Why?" Lady Wildwood echoed with surprise, then shook her head. "Because, my dear, tending the ill and wounded is one of the most valuable skills a lady can have, and you do have it."
"Oh." Seonaid considered this with relief. She had one skill at least. It was better than nothing.
"And you also have many skills most ladies do not have. And you are very pretty, my dear. And obviously intelligent. These are all very good reasons for Lord Blake to be happy to marry you." Iliana's mother tilted her head to the side. "The question is, can you see yourself being happy married to him? For I feel sure that your father would give up your dower and cancel the wedding rather than see you miserable."
Seonaid considered the question seriously. She had always known she would marry Blake Sherwell, and had gone about her business on that premise. In fact, she had lived with the idea for so long that the possibility of not marrying him was almost alien to her. And from all she had heard--well, aside from her father's ranting, which the old man seemed to be taking back now--he was an admirable man; hard-working, ambitious, strong in battle yet fair.
Then too, there was what she had seen of him since battling in the chapel at St. Simmian's. Blake didn't appear to have a cruel streak. Another man might have beaten her on catching up to her at the barn after the incident with the stew. He would have been within his rights to do so. Actually, he would have been within his rights to do a lot more than beat her, she thought with a start. Poisoning others was against the law, after all. But he hadn't beat her; he hadn't even been mean to her since then. And this after she had already pushed his patience with her constant escape attempts, including the time she'd kicked him in the groin, then used her foot to toss him over her head. The man had the patience of a saint, to her way of thinking. She probably would have plowed him one herself for such a stunt.
"Seonaid?" Lady Wildwood prompted.
"Hmm." She sighed, then listed his positives, "He's smart, reputed to be good in battle, ambitious, patient, and I like the look o' him."
"You like the look of him?" Lady Wildwood smiled slightly.
Seonaid shrugged. "He's pretty."
Iliana's mother bit her lip, but nodded. "Aye. He is very ... er ... handsome."
"Well formed too," Seonaid informed her. "He has nice muscles in his shoulders and back, nice legs too, and I like his backside."
Lady Wildwood blinked. "Excuse me?"
"His backside," Seonaid repeated. "I havena seen many, but the ones I've seen all looked rather flat and saggy, but his is nice and rounded and--" Seonaid paused to thump Lady Wildwood's back when the woman made a choking sound and suddenly began to cough. When the coughing fit stopped and the woman waved her thumping off, she asked with concern, "Are ye a'right?"
"Aye." She nodded, but her face was terribly flushed. Still, she soldiered on, "So, you like him and find him handsome and he has fine ... parts," she said delicately, then added, "I am sure I heard a but in there however?"
"Aye." Seonaid sighed, then admitted Blake's fault. "He has a huge cock."
Lady Wildwood began to choke and cough again. So did Elgin, Seonaid noticed. There must be something in the air in the kitchen, she decided, as she thumped the lady's back again.
"I am all right; you can stop that." Lady Wildwood didn't sound all right. Her voice was practically a squeak of sound as she said, "But I do not understand how this is a problem, my dear."
"Perhaps I didna explain right," Seonaid decided with a frown. "The man is abnormal huge, from what I can see."
"You have seen it?"
"Aye. When he was bathing in the river."
"And you have seen others to compare his to?" she asked carefully.
Seonaid shrugged. "One or two while travelin' with the men. They're an immodest lot."
"Ah." She was nodding, but still flushed. "And you are worried that Blake is so large?"
"Well ..." Seonaid frowned. "It seems to me with it bein' so large ... well, if a normal man hur
ts the first time as they say, then Blake willna fit at all. Truly, my lady, he's almost the size of Elgin's rolling pin there."
Lady Wildwood glanced toward the object in question, as did Elgin. His eyes were wide and he was suddenly holding the thing away from him. Lady Wildwood's eyes went wide as well. "Well, that is ..." She paused and shook her head, muttering, "And I was sorry I did not get to have this talk with Iliana the night of her wedding!"
Heaving her breath out on a sigh, Lady Wildwood took Seonaid's arm and urged her toward the door leading out into the gardens.
"Seonaid, you are blunt in your speech, so I shall be just as blunt," she said solemnly as they began to walk along the rows of herbs and vegetables. "You should not fear that Blake's ... er ... size will be a problem. You must remember that babies come out the same place he will be ..." She paused, appearing at a loss for a moment, then struggled on. "It is not the size of the man that decides the discomfort the first time."
"It isna?" Seonaid asked with interest.
"Nay. We women are born with what is called a maiden's veil, and--"
"A maiden's veil?" Seonaid echoed, then raised her hands to feel her head and said, "What is that? I doona think I have one."
"Aye. You do," Lady Wildwood said firmly.
"Where's me daughter?"
Blake sat up straight in the chair he had been lounging in and scowled as Angus paused before him. "She is in the kitchen with Lady Wildwood."
"Hmm." Angus glanced at Aeldra and Helen, who were sitting at the trestle table. When he glanced back there was a thoughtful look on his face. "I've been thinkin' on what ye said about the attack."
Blake arched an eyebrow. "Aye?"
"Are ye sure 'twas the women they were after?"
"Aye. Why do you ask?"
"Because there must be a reason Seonaid lied about it being Camerons. And Allistair said that Greenweld had sent men after ye, and I was wondering if it might no be them and you were the true target."
"Me?" Blake sat up a little straighter. "Why would Greenweld send men after me?"
"For Allistair. To kill ye so he could marry our Seonaid," Angus explained, then shook his head. "But ye did say they attacked the women while they were bathing. So they couldna have been after you, could they?"
Blake said slowly, recalling the attack, "I had gone down to the loch to be sure the women had not made another run for it. I had just stepped out into the clearing when the men attacked."
"So, you were there too, and it could have been Greenweld's men after ye."
Blake shook his head. "But Greenweld is English, and these men wore plaids."
Angus shrugged. "Plaids are easy enough to find, and a smart Englishman would have his men don them if they were a smaller party and wanted to be able to travel the land without trouble. English dress is reason enough to stop and find out what they are about."
"Hmm." Blake considered the matter. The men had attacked after he'd stepped into the clearing. It could be that they were after him, not the women. In truth, if they were Greenweld's men, they might have thought the women little danger to them. "Are you sure it could not have been Camerons?" he asked now. "I do not understand why Seonaid would lie about it. I could understand had her lie delayed arriving here or allowed them to escape, but to lie to get here more quickly when she had been fighting the wedding as she had?" He shook his head, trying to make sense of it.
Angus again glanced toward the women at the table as he considered the question. Blake followed his gaze. Aeldra and Sister Helen were huddled together, having what appeared to be a serious talk.
"Who is she?"
Blake glanced with surprise at the Dunbar laird. "Who is whom? Sister Helen?"
"Aye. Who is she and how did she come to be a member of yer party?"
Blake glanced back to the women and shrugged. "She is ... Sister Helen," he finished helplessly. "Seonaid said she promised to see the sister to her home in England."
"Where in England?"
Blake glanced at him with surprise but had to admit, "I do not know. All I know is she is Sister Helen and left the abbey with Seonaid and Aeldra."
"Hmmm," the Dunbar said again, then turned away and headed to the trestle table. Blake watched him for a moment, then curiosity got the better of him and he stood to follow.
Seonaid's head was awhirl with information as Lady Wildwood led her back into the keep and through the kitchens. If she had been confused about Blake and her feelings about marrying him before, she was even more so now. Lady Wildwood had assured her that while the first time might be painful, it would not be due to his size, and in fact she might come to appreciate his size afterward. She had also assured her that--from all she had heard at court--Blake would probably make the bedding part of marriage very pleasurable for her.
Then there was his dallying about collecting her, the source of all her anger with the man. Unfortunately, she found unarguable the lady's suggestion that she should let go of her anger. Lady Wildwood insisted that it couldn't possibly have been a personal slight on his part since they hadn't yet met. With that in mind, Seonaid didn't know what she felt or thought about anything. All she knew was that she had made promises to Helen and felt she should keep them. And no doubt the other two women were waiting to hear what the next step would be, now that the chance to slip out through the secret passage was gone.
Seonaid wasn't sure. Storming off to her father's room after finding the secret passage blocked hadn't been the brightest move. They would be watching for an escape attempt now. Not that Blake had ever stopped watching for one, she conceded.
"Seonaid, dear?"
"Aye?" She glanced at Lady Wildwood curiously as she followed her out of the kitchen and into the great hall.
"Where is Sister Helen from? She looks terribly familiar to me. Perhaps I know her family."
Seonaid stumbled to a halt and opened her mouth, then closed it again, unsure what to say. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea where Helen was from. Not that she would have told Margaret anyway.
"Where exactly are ye from, Sister?"
That question from her father made her glance sharply toward the trestle tables where Helen, Aeldra, Blake, and her father were all seated. Helen's expression was a picture of panic. Excusing herself, Seonaid picked up speed and left Lady Wildwood behind as she hurried forward to forestall her father from asking anything else. Until she knew if they were going to try to sneak Helen home, it wasn't good to give them too much information. Although, after her conversation with Lady Wildwood, Seonaid was starting to think that she should let the men in on the actual events surrounding Lady Helen and let them help. But she would never do it without talking to Helen first.
"She is from St. Simmian's," Seonaid announced, pausing at the table to catch Helen under the elbow and urge her to stand. Aeldra was immediately on her feet as well.
"Aye. But where was she born, Seonaid?" her father asked. "Where is this family she wants to visit?"
"England," Seonaid answered succinctly, then rushed the women away before he could ask any more questions.
"Where are we goin'?" Aeldra asked as they started across the bailey.
"I am no sure. We need to go somewhere we can talk."
"That may be difficult. We have company."
"Aye. I ken," Seonaid admitted, aware that Blake had followed them out of the keep and was trailing them across the bailey. A moment later she glanced back to see that Little George had joined Sherwell. At this rate, it would soon be a parade. There would be no chance to talk.
The sight of Little George reminded Seonaid that earlier in the day Aeldra had run out of the cottage and disappeared, along with Little George. She glanced at her cousin curiously. "Did Stupid George bother ye this morn after ye left Giorsal?"
"Little George," Aeldra corrected, then blushed when Seonaid glanced at her sharply. The nickname Stupid George was one Aeldra had suggested for the man just days ago. It seemed she no longer felt it suited. Interesti
ng.
"He didna bother me," her cousin added, her face still flushed. "He--we talked. He was verra ... er ... kind."
Seonaid's eyebrows rose. Judging by the way her cousin was blushing, his kindness had probably not been dissimilar to the kindness Seonaid had enjoyed with Blake. She felt her own cheeks flush at the memory of his kiss.
"He is the strongest yet gentlest man I have ever met," Aeldra announced suddenly, and Seonaid peered at her in horror. She had never heard the smaller woman talk like this about any man. She sounded almost moonstruck.
Aeldra caught her expression and flushed further but said defiantly, "He is nice."
"Aye," Seonaid agreed quickly to soothe her, but was thinking with alarm that her tiny cousin was falling for the great brute. Of course, she was in danger of falling for Blake too. At least, his kiss seemed to plague her memory an awful lot. While Lady Wildwood had been explaining about the bedding that would follow the nuptials, Seonaid had been picturing Blake in her mind, remembering him naked, remembering sleeping pressed up against his chest, with his arm around her and his hand cupping her breast, and remembering his kiss and the way her body had reacted, the excitement, the budding passion, the--
"Seonaid!"
Slowing her steps, Seonaid glanced around, her face lighting with pleasure at the sight of the handsome dark-haired man walking toward her from the practice field. Ian McInnes, the son of their nearest neighbor, was about the same age as Duncan. He was also a friend, and she smiled happily at the sight of him.
"Ian," Seonaid greeted him with a laugh as he caught her up in a hug and swung her around before setting her down. Then he did the same to Aeldra. "What are ye doin' here?"
"I brought the men to help rout Greenweld," he explained, then grinned. "Ye ken I can never pass up the chance fer a good fight. No that it was much o' a fight." He shrugged. "I sent most of the men back after they helped clear up the worst of the mess, but I am staying until tomorrow morn. Mother will be put out if I return without the full tale, and I've yet to hear it all. Duncan and yer father havena been out of their rooms since shortly after it all ended."
"Ah." Seonaid smiled, then noted the way he glanced at Helen and introduced them. "This is Sister Helen. Helen, this is Ian McInnes, our neighbor and friend."