4
Dougie Prentice was not the kind of second-in-command who meekly followed his superior officer’s orders. He offered his own opinions and sometimes contradicted Murdoch, although he never disobeyed him. The two of them made a good team and were firm friends despite the difference in their ranks. As well as that, the fact that they were both tall and handsome men made them very popular with the ladies. This helped their work, too, since the women were favorably disposed toward them and could unwittingly be a good source of intelligence.
Now, as they sat down in the tavern, cups of ale were delivered by a smiling bar lady before their backsides had even touched their seats.
“Thank you, Mary,” Murdoch said, smiling at the young woman as he dropped a penny into her hand. “I am so thirsty today, and I must say that the ale at this inn is the best in the whole district.”
“Thank ye, sir,” she replied. “Every little bit helps when ye have so many mouths tae feed!”
Mary was twenty-one years old and had five children, including a set of twin boys. Her life was extremely hard, and although a penny was not much, it would buy a meal for the family.
“Maybe when they are a little older I can try to get jobs at the castle for the little ones,” Murdoch offered.
He felt infinitely sorry for her, but there were so many families in the same position, and he could not help all of them. Mary was better off than most because she actually had a job. He sighed as he watched her.
“Thank ye, sir, but that is a long while away,” Mary observed, smiling at them.
“You know, I would marry all the women in the valley if I thought it would help,” Murdoch remarked. “They do it in Persia.”
“I don’t think it would catch on in Scotland,” Dougie remarked, laughing. Then he grew solemn. “Why does the laird make life so bloody hard for them? It is just not fair, Murdoch!” He thumped a fist on the table.
Murdoch sighed and took a draft of his ale. “Life is not fair, Dougie.”
They sat in silence for a while, each with his own thoughts, then Dougie spoke again. “We need a plan,” he observed. “We cannot just sit an’ wait for somethin’ tae happen.”
“We could ask every single person for miles around,” Murdoch suggested grimly, “but that would take ages, and we would need many more men.”
“We could torture them,” Dougie suggested, grinning.
“No,” Murdoch laughed. “Some of them would likely enjoy it!”
They sat for a long time throwing ideas back and forth, but none seemed to be without its drawbacks. If there was an ambush, attacking the ambushers would cause absolute chaos, and they could not be sure that innocent people would not be hurt.
“I have an idea,” Dougie said at last, after they had finished three goblets of ale. “Could you no’ ask Lady Keira tae speak to the people on our behalf?”
“But the laird has already sent us out to find the upstarts who are doing this,” he pointed out. “What good could his daughter do?”
Dougie leaned closer to him. “We need tae ask for more help, an’ if we appeal to the lady herself, she might be inclined tae help us. I hear she is a kind woman. Many o’ the tenants are barely survivin’, an’ I think she would be glad tae help.”
Murdoch thought for a moment. “I think that might work, Dougie,” he said admiringly. “Good thinking. More ale?”
Dougie shook his head. “This is strong stuff,” he answered. “I might no’ be able tae stand up soon!”
* * *
The next day, just after breakfast, Keira knocked on the door of Adaira’s chamber. The young woman opened it slowly, peeping around the edge to see who was on the other side. When she saw Keira, she gave a deep sigh of relief and opened the door wide.
Keira looked around her with pleasure, as she always did when entering Adaira’s room. Her father had not, at least, stinted on the decor in his wife’s chamber. The room had a high ceiling with beautifully sculpted cornices, a chandelier with an ornate ceiling rose in the middle and half-paneled walls of pale oak. There were small tables dotted around the chamber, each with a silver candelabra or a vase of spring flowers on it.
The dressing table was also ornately carved, its shining mahogany surface polished to perfection, its mirror gleaming. Two satin-covered armchairs sat before the fire with its gorgeously carved mahogany fireplace and marble mantel.
The armoire was also made of mahogany, as was the bed, which was very feminine, with a pale yellow satin brocade and canopy and a floral quilt and coverlet. Sprinkled all over the floor were jewel-colored rugs, which brought even more brightness to the chamber.
“I don’t think I have ever seen such a beautiful room,” Keira mused.
“It is my sanctuary,” Adaira confessed, sighing. “Whenever your father wants to make love to me, I have to go to his room so that I do not feel his presence here at all.”
Keira gazed at Adaira pityingly. “Is it so bad?” she asked gently.