“I am that sorry, Milady!” Morag disentangled her son’s hands and tutted. “It was goin’ tae go straight in his mouth. He is at that age where he puts everythin’ in it!” She cast her eyes heavenward and Minna laughed.
“Don’t worry, Morag. You’re a good lad, are you not, Donnie?” She smiled and the child became shy suddenly and buried his head against his mother’s shoulder. Minna laughed, because she could not be angry with him; she loved babies, and looked forward to the day when she would have at least one of her own.
Presently, Minna put her hand into the big sack she carried and pulled out some foodstuffs wrapped in a hessian sack to give to the young mother. “Apples, bread, cheese, and some dried meat. Don’t raise your hopes up too high, but I may be able to get some honey. It is not a promise, though.”
Morag took the food eagerly and Minna could see that her eyes were shining with tears. “Thank ye, Milady. Anythin’ ye can spare is fine as long as I can feed my wee ones. The vegetables are growin’ in the back field but no’ quick enough, an’ the hens are no’ layin’ the way they should. As well as that, I have lost three tae foxes an’ wildcats.” She shook her head wearily. “I suppose they have their young ones tae feed an’ a’, but if I could I would eat a fox or a wildcat just tae have meat.”
“That is true, Morag,” Minna agreed, sighing, “but we all have to consider our own children first. Nature is cruel.”
“Aye, an’ so is the Laird,” Morag said bitterly. “My man has had to leave the farm an’ go tae work in Dundee just tae keep a roof over our heads. I have tae manage the house, the bairns, an’ the farm. “’Tis no’ fair, Milady.” Tears began to leak from her eyes and trickle down her face as she spoke.
Minna knew that Morag was not indulging in self-pity, but was experiencing genuine hardship, as were most of the tenants of Cairnbrae. Minna was the sister of the Laird, Jamie Darroch, who had let his lands fall into such a state of disrepair that she felt it her duty to help them. She could almost see the strain of the overwhelming burden that was weighing the young woman down, and wished she could take all the villagers back to her castle to take care of them. Sometimes she felt ashamed of how much she had compared to how little they had.
“I know, Morag.” Her voice throbbed with anger. “My brother is a monster, but one day I will find a way to get rid of him, although I wish it could be right now. Until then I will do my best to help you all.”
“We are a’ grateful tae ye, Milady.” Morag put a hand on Minna’s shoulder and tried to smile. “I dinnae know what we would dae without ye.”
Minna put her hand over Morag’s. “Thank you, Morag, but have faith. We will find a way somehow. I know we will.” She smiled as she saw that Donnie had fallen asleep. “Go back to bed now. I am returning to the castle.”
“God bless ye, Milady,” Morag said wearily as she yawned and waved then made her way back inside her home.
The few hours of near-darkness around midnight were the only time of day that Minna could sneak out of the castle and not be seen, while still having enough light to see where she was going. Now she would have to hurry. It was April, and the days were becoming longer, and the hours of darkness shorter. By the time June came there would be hardly any night at all. What was she to do then?
She decided that she would cross that bridge when she came to it. Now she had to concentrate on finding her way back to Cairndene Castle unseen. Luckily her brother had drunk himself into a stupor the previous evening and was very unlikely to be awake. He was not an early riser at the best of times, but when he was drunk he would occasionally sleep till noon. Minna liked those days, since she managed to get a few hours of extra rest without his constant complaining and whining.
Fortunately she had a few friends among the guards, good men who despised their Laird but needed him to survive so that they could keep their jobs. However, the way the estate was deteriorating, Minna was not sure how much longer their employment would last, and most of them were seeking positions elsewhere. They were mostly looking for jobs in Dundee and the other big towns of Millrig.
Minna paid her friends a little extra to turn a blind eye to her nightly excursions, and they loved her in return, knowing of her charity work around the village.
When she crossed over the drawbridge she was weary to the bone, and she almost toppled over the saddle. However, one of her friends was there to catch her as she stumbled and almost fell on the flagstones.
“Careful Milady,” Johnny Boyd warned her as he steadied her. “Ye are wearin’ yourself out. Ye must take more care o’ yourself.”
Minna smiled wearily. “And who would look after our people? My brother?” She gave a cynical laugh. “No, Johnny. I have to go on. If I don’t do it, then who will?”
Johnny shook his head and sighed. “I will stable your horse for ye, Milady,” he said kindly. “An’ if I may giveyouan order for a change - get tae bed!”
“Yes, Sir!” Minna laughed as she gave him a mock salute, then yawned. “I will do so forthwith!”
Johnny watched Minna walk away, then he sighed and said to her horse Caesar: “There goes a lady, my boy. She is worth a hundred times more than her brother.”
* * *
“Look at the state o’ ye!” Lorna McGuire cried as she watched her mistress trudge into her chamber, her boots trailing dirt over the expensive, hand woven carpets. “I have a good mind tae lock ye in at night! If your brother sees ye there will be hell tae pay!”
“My brother is not my keeper!” Minna spat furiously. Then she smiled wearily at her maid and friend. “Don’t worry, Lorna. My eyes can't possibly stay open any longer. My eyelids do not have the strength.”
Lorna advanced, looking as fierce as a mother bear guarding its young, and reached out to unbutton Minna’s shirt, but she sat down on her bed and held her feet up so that Lorna could take off her boots. Lorna did so, then opened her mouth to give her mistress another piece of her mind, only to find that Minna had collapsed backward onto the coverlet and was fast asleep.
Lorna growled quietly. She was Minna’s maid, but as well as that she was her best friend and confidante, and in the absence of a mother, she was the older, wiser woman to whom she turned for advice and comfort. They had been together for ten years, and Minna, who could not remember her real mother, was unable to imagine life without Lorna.
Now, as she looked down at the Laird’s younger sister, Lorna felt a dark rage boil up inside her. Minna should not be making these dangerous nightly excursions. Indeed, there would be no need for her to do such a thing if it were not for her self-obsessed, good-for-nothing brother. How she hated him!
‘I would kill the swine an’ smile while I was daein’ it if I thought it would dae any good,’she thought furiously.
Lorna maneuvered her mistress into bed and drew the sheets over her, lamenting the fact that they would be absolutely filthy in the morning. Most of the dust and mud from the soil and undergrowth had migrated onto Minna’s clothes, and both she and they would have to be thoroughly scrubbed.
Lorna sighed, then smiled. She would do anything for Minna, and well her young mistress knew it!