6
Settling In
Rab found Father Bryce, a slender priest wearing a simple cassock of kelly green, his tonsured head shiny with sweat, as it was hot in the chapel with the sun shining through the stained glass windows, polishing the pews with a mixture of lemon oil and rosewater. Rab had known Archibald Bryce all his life, the priest had come to minister the Carlyle household when Malcolm and Ceri were first married, and had then been about twenty-five or so. He was now in his early fifties, but still uncomplaining and cheerful and continuing to minister to his Highland sheep with compassion and understanding. Father Bryce had helped the young man immensely when his mother had died, helping him reconcile his loss, anger, and guilt and learning how to go on and to trust his medical skills and God again. Rab considered him a good friend and the best man he could think of to help Malcolm defeat the demons of whiskey.
"Good morrow, Father," he greeted, smiling at the older man.
"Rab! 'Tis good to see ye, laddie!" Father Bryce said, and put down his rag to give the younger man a hug. "I heard ye had arrived back, but was in the middle of my prayers and so missed ye. How is yer new bride? Is she as bonny and bright as everyone says?"
Rab smiled. "Aye, that she is. I would hae ye meet her, but she is sleeping ye ken, the journey was hard on her, since she broke her ankle." He gave the priest the whole tale while Bryce polished, and after that said gravely, "But that really is no why I came to see ye, Father. The real reason is for my papa."
"Has something happened to Malcolm?"
"Nay, Father. Well, nothin' that hasna happened ten hundred times before," Rab sighed, then he told Bryce about what had gone on at the Frasers. "An' I made a deal wi' him to try this retreat an' free himself o' the whiskey, but . . . I need your help to do it, Father. I canna do it wi' out ye."
Father Bryce actually looked eager. "Rab, that's a wonderful idea. I have been thinking for a long time about tryin' tae get yer father tae see the error o' his ways wi' whiskey, an' yet have never managed it because he avoids me like the plague!" He gave a soft laugh. "But if he has agreed like ye say, that will no be the case now!"
"Then ye think it can work?"
"Aye, it can, if we can keep yer papa distracted while he is learnin' to do wi'out the whiskey," Father Bryce mused. "I think the first week shall be the hardest—nay the first three days—an' then shall get easier forthwith. I shall pray on it and ask God to help me come up wi' some ways tae help Malcolm return tae a state of grace like he was before yer mama passed." Father Bryce held up a finger. "For 'twas then all the trouble started."
"Aye, I ken it," Rab agreed. "I will help ye anyway I can. I need to write my mentor in Edinburgh, ask him for alternatives to the drink. I only ken a few."
"Aye that will be good. Let me know what ye learn. I can get the small cottage ready in a few days in the north pasture by the stream. 'Tis a good spot to fish an' walk an' watch the sheep. Mayhap out beyond the keep, Malcolm can reconnect wi' the Lord. 'Tis always easier tae do so when ye are alone wi' out distractions. For the Lord shall be his staff, I ken. Along wi' ye and me."
"He's goin' t' speak wi' ye soon, I'd wager."
"Good. Then I shall tell him the same as I've told ye, Rab." The priest's blue eyes twinkled. "Now how about a spot of tea wi' blueberry scones an' sweet cream?"
"That would be verra welcome, an' well ye ken it," the younger man chuckled, for he loved that particular treat ever since he was a lad, and the priest knew it.
"Aye, I may be getting' auld, but I still have me memory!" Bryce snickered, and then they walked over to small cottage that was next to the chapel, which had always been where the priests of the household stayed.
Rab could remember many cozy afternoons when the rain beat down on the roof studying for the entrance exams for Edinburgh University in that cottage, beside the peat hearth with the kettle whistling, while Bryce read passages from the Bible.
Page~*~*~*~Break
Belle slept for several hours thanks to the poppy draught, and when she woke was much refreshed and eager to meet the household staff. She had Missus Potts help her fix her hair and change from her travel gown to something lighter, one of her favorite yellow gowns with a white lace shawl. She was unsure where she ought to meet the staff, especially with her lame foot, and finally decided to have them present themselves in the sitting room off of the bedchamber for now.
She used the crutches Neal had made for her and managed to walk the few feet from her bed to the sitting room and Missus Potts helped her sit down in a wide stuffed chair and prop her foot on a stool.
Wee Rumple darted out of the bedroom and jumped on her lap, sitting and purring like a miniature Sphinx, albeit with crumpled ears.
Belle stroked him, then said, "Missus Potts, would you be so kind as to summon the head housekeeper and ask her to summon the staff for me, so that I might meet them properly?"
"At once, my lady," Missus Potts curtseyed and then went to do as she had requested.
She returned in a few moments, followed by Moira, who was the head housekeeper at the keep, and had been since she had come with her mistress, Ceridwen, when she had married Malcolm. She was a short spare woman in her fifties and had helped her lady birth her three sons and nursed her through her last illness. She was not unhandsome, though she had never married because the man she had loved had been killed by the Frasers during their endless feuding. Her curly dark hair was touched with gray at the temples, though it was difficult to tell beneath her starched white cap. She wore a plain navy blue skirt and cream blouse with an apron over it and a ring of keys jangled at her belt, the sign of her authority here at Carlyle keep.
Moira had frank misgivings about her new mistress, based upon what rumors had brought from the village and also the fact that she was one of the dreaded Frasers who had killed her beloved Kenneth. When she had first laid eyes upon the doctor's wife, she had thought—aye, she's a bonny filly, but will she hae staying power or just looks? The fact that Belle had been injured tending to a cow, of all things, also did not sit well with her. She was also fearful that she would be replaced as head housekeeper by Belle's own maid, Missus Potts. She had been the only woman in authority for years since the passing of her beloved mistress and she resented this interloper, who would probably set the whole place on its ear with her changes instead of running the keep just the way Lady Ceri had always done.
But none of this was apparent in her manner or her appearance. She arrived promptly in the sitting room, curtseyed to Belle, and said, "I'm Miss Moira MacNamara, yer ladyship. The MacNamara's be kin to the Carlyles and hae served them always. I came here thirty years ago with my mistress, Lady Cerdiwen, God assoil her." She automatically crossed herself.
A few minutes later, six other women, two girls, and ten men appeared. The women wore servicable dresses of blue, green or gray with a swatch of Carlyle plaid in a ribbon on their persons, usually about their caps or tied around their waist. Two wore dresses that were like a gentlewoman's outfit, though out of style and obviously made over. Moira introduced them.
"These be the six chambermaids, Lady Mirabelle. Annie, Molly, Elspeth, June, Cattie, and Rhona. Annie is Wardrobe Mistress an' will help ye with yer clothing and keep it tidy. Rhona is good with arranging hair. They will be cleanin' yer rooms and if ye ever need sommat an' I am no around, ye may ring for one o' them. These two are the undermaids, Tessa and Lily. They'll tend to the fire an' make yer bed and empty out the chamberpots, bring the water fer yer pitchers."
The girls, they were about thirteen, and the undermaids, who were anywhere from eighteen to twenty-one, all bobbed respectful curtseys and said, "Welcome, milady."
A tall man wearing a blue jacket with the Carlyle badge upon it and a cream shirt and short breeks came and bowed to her. "Good morrow, yer ladyship. I'm Aiden Bruce, the laird's chamberlain, and these are my lads—Theo, Duncan, and Geordie be the gillies tae the laird Malcolm an' tae Rab, Morgan, Giles, an' young Toby be training tae serve as Master Neal's valet. Then there are Master MacNab the butler and Master Armstrong the pantler, and wee Jamie, his nephew. Laird Malcolm will introduce ye tae the steward William Burns himself and the marshal Connor Stuart. There be more servants belowstairs, an' the cook Missus Carmichael and her staff, the laundry maids an' scullery lasses, but we figgered meetin' us first be enough fer ye tae be getting on with, aye?"
The men and boys, they looked to be about twelve, all bowed to her and greeted her.
"I am pleased to meet all of you. And this is Missus Mary Potts, my lady's maid," Belle introduced her. Then she added, "At home, I'm known as Lady Belle, and would ask you to address me as such." She gave each of them a winsome smile. "This is a lovely keep and I'm sure I will learn my way about soon enough with you to aid me."
"As my lady wishes," Moira said, then she said to her staff, "Well now, lasses, back tae work wi' ye! The keep willna run itself!"
As the women, men, and Master Bruce departed, Belle called to Moira, "Moira, would ye be so kind as to tell me the schedule of the castle and the hours the family keeps so that I might learn their routine?"
"Aye, milady," the housekeeper agreed, because to do less would be insubordinate, but inwardly she stiffened and thought how the new mistress was already planning on changing things. She then responded, "But I think ye ought to ken that Laird Malcolm likes his home run in a certain fashion, as his late wife always did. And he doesna take well to change."
"I see. I will try very hard to accommodate Malcolm and to only altar or improve things which need improvements." Belle said crisply. She understood that there would be resentment from the people she was now to oversee, and she didn't like to step on anyone's toes, but the plain fact was that the keep had been without a mistress for years and Belle was sure that there were things that had not been done that should have been simply because the men had not considered them and the housekeeper had not the authority to see to those tasks.
Moira bowed, and then said, "Would ye like something to eat, milady? Ye must be hungry after such a long nap."
"That would be wonderful," Belle said. She was feeling hungry now that she thought of it. She wondered where Rab was, and as she petted Rumple, she also realized the kitten was probably hungry too. "And would ye please bring up a plate of fish and a saucer of milk, or chicken scraps for my wee kitty? His name is Rumple and my husband gave him to me for a gift."
"Of course, Lady Belle," Moira said, politely. Then she curtseyed again and departed, the keys still on her belt.
She knew she should have turned over most of them to her new mistress, but decided the oversight was for the best right now. If Belle didn't have access to the storerooms and larder she could not police those areas effectively and the running of them would stay, for now, in Moira's hands.
Soon Molly returned with a dish of scraps and some milk for Rumple, who eagerly began to eat and then with a tray for her mistress. "Mistress Moira says for me tae tell ye that the laird be having a feast in the hall this evening to celebrate yer nuptials, milady. At seven o'clock."
"Thank you, Molly. Are any guests going to be there?"
The maid paused. "Not that I heard of. I think 'tis just the family an' those of us here."
Belle breathed a sigh of relief. Having to entertain guests would have taxed her right then. "I see. Send Rhona and Annie up to me an hour before so they can assist me."
"Aye, milady," Molly said then hurried away, leaving Belle to eat and peruse the list Moira had sent up with her.
Page~*~*~*~Break
After Rab had visited with Father Bryce, he then went and made the rounds of the tenants with Malcolm and their steward, William Burns. By that time he and his father went in to dine in the hall for dinner. Belle was still asleep, so afterwards, while Malcolm went to speak with Father Bryce, Rab went to his workroom and studied his various salves and concoctions, seeing which herbs he needed to gather and grind up and mix, and also look up the recipe for the plaster strips he wanted to cast Belle's foot with.
He had to go into the village to procure a few items from the apothecary, and while there, as often happened, some villagers needed his medical skills. He spent two hours before the celebration supper tending to a workman's cut hand and stitching it, giving a pregnant woman a tea of chamomile and ginger for her morning sickness, soothing a small child's stomach troubles with a tea of peppermint and some dandelion extract which helped digestion and diarrhea, giving an elderly man with rheumatism an oil to rub on his aching legs, and popping a carter's shoulder back into place and then proscribing some willow bark tea.
That left him barely enough time to go upstairs and change before dinner. His gillie, Theo had laid out his supper clothes, and Belle was already in the hall being seated beside Malcolm, so Rab only had to wash up and put his clothes on before hurrying downstairs to be seated at the high table along with Malcolm, Belle, and Neal.
Belle looked up as her husband entered the hall, relieved to see another familiar face besides her father-in-law and brother-in-law. Rab was dressed in a flowing saffron silk shirt with a navy jacket, his Carlyle plaid flowing from his shoulders and black velvet breeches and shiny shoes. He wore a navy blue bonnet with the Carlyle badge and a single peacock feather at a rakish angle on his head, which set off his long brown locks. He had on a wide belt with a purse, his sgain dubh, and a dress sword on it.
Belle flushed as she gazed at him, thinking that he had never appeared so handsome to her or looked more like a laird than he did then.
Their eyes met and she felt a sudden heat travel up from her toes to the crown of her head, which had a chaplet of flowers about her long flowing auburn locks. Since she was yet a virgin, due to her unfortunate injuries, she could and did choose to wear her hair down. The light of the torches and candelabras in the hall brought a rosy glow to her cheeks, as did the naughty thoughts she entertained about her husband.
Rab's cognac colored eyes met those of his bride's as he hurried into the room so the feast could begin, thinking that never had she seemed so ethereally lovely as she did then, reminding him of all the stories his nurse used to tell him about fairy maidens. Her rich auburn locks cascaded down her shoulders to lie enticingly upon her green velvet clad bodice, which had golden cord accenting it and her detachable sleeves swirled down to large cuffs accented with rich golden sable fur. The bodice was stitched with the Scottish thistle in gold thread and had tiny gold accents. Since they were standing awaiting his arrival, Rab got to see the lush skirt of the gown, which had a sweeping silk brocade pattern of more thistles done in gold and the velvet outer skirt flaring out on top of it. She wore a gold chain belt with emeralds, amethysts, and rubies on it and her one foot was shod in a dainty leather slipper.
He found his breath stolen away and he did not reclaim it until he reached the dias, and bowed to his lord father and said, "My apologies, Papa. I had patients unexpectedly in the village."
Malcolm, who had a goblet of claret in his hand, said, "Aye, 'twas what I figgered. No matter now." He clapped his hands. "Let the feast begin!"
Cheers rose from further down the hall and servers brought in the first course.
Now that the other half of the handfasted couple was there, everyone was seated, with Rab holding Belle's chair for her as she sat down, her crutches leaning unobtrusively behind her against the wall with the banners and coat of arms. "Ye look stunning, like a fairy queen at a midsummer revel," he whispered in her ear.
She didn't know how she could color even more, but she managed it, and her indigo eyes sparkled like gems in the firelight as she said, "Ye are too kind, my laird husband. Allow me to return the favor and say that out of all the men in this room tonight, ye fair take my breath away, ye look like a warrior out of the ancient tales, like Fingal the great warrior, poet, and magician who drove the Lochlainn from Innisfail and Morven." She whispered, her hand reaching out to clasp his in welcome.
He chuckled. "Me, like Fingal? Ah, dearie, 'tis no small honor you do me, who is a simple doctor, lawyer, and tanist." He bowed over her hand and kissed it. He was touched by her regard, especially because he had never considered himself in the same class as his handsome rascal of a brother Jamie. All the lasses had loved his brother.
Then he went and sat down on the other side of Malcolm, across from his bride, and the laird lifted his cup in a toast, saying loudly, "Here's to my son, Rab, tanist o' Carlyle, and to his bonny bride Belle. May they hae a long union, prosperous an' loving wi' many bairns and may God bless them forever!"
They all raised their glasses in a toast, shouting the names of their new mistress and master and drank. The first course was a hearty Scotch broth with barley, leeks, and tender beef, accompanied by heather ale and manchet bread for the nobles, plain wheat for everyone else.
Rab was pleased to note that Belle seemed to have regained her appetite, and ate her soup eagerly, not turning up her nose at what some might regard as peasant fare. He ate his own portion happily, only turning once to elbow Neal in the ribs and hiss, "Dinna slurp, ye scamp!"
His brother smirked and said, "Oh just eat yer own food and dinna worry about me!"
Rab shook his head. "What d'ye prefer, me lecturin' ye, or Papa pointin' out yer lack o' manners in front of all here?"
"Aye, all right!" his younger brother gulped, knowing full well that was what Malcolm would do if he had caught his son displaying such churlish behavior. After that he sipped his soup softly.
The next course was a fish with vegetables and consisted of a whole salmon baked in its skin, rubbed with savory herbs and butter, surrounded with whole pearl onions, spinach, and cheese croquettes fried crisp. Also perch in a béchamel sauce was served. Belle took some of each portion, using her seafood fork to spear the tender fish and sop the sauce with a piece of her bread. The seafood fork was a new addition to the high table, brought by Queen Mary from France, and it showed how refined the diners were. Obviously, despite being removed from court, the Carlyles were not quite the rural country squires they had been made out to be.
The butler came and poured Malcolm a glass of fine French sauvignon blanc, and the pages also did the same for Rab, Belle, and Neal.
Malcolm again toasted the health of the couple, and proclaimed the wine excellent.
Rab watched, concerned, but then Father Bryce, who was seated next to Belle, engaged his papa in conversation, and Malcolm forgot to ask for a refill.
The third course was a fresh salad, with crunchy greens, onions, radishes, and carrots in a light dressing with toasted almonds.
Rab had always liked salad, though he knew many did not, and indeed he had to remind Neal to eat his vegetables. He recalled his mama always telling Jamie the same thing.
Belle picked up some salad on her fork and said, "This salad is verra tasty, Rab."
"Aye, it has a dressing of red vinegar, olive oil, and spices. My cook got the recipe from a visiting Italian merchant who passed this way years ago," Rab explained, and bit into his forkful with relish.
"It's delicious," Belle said, and her tongue flicked briefly over her lips.
Their eyes met again and something bright and hot flashed between them as their gazes entwined.
Rab smiled and saluted her with his salad fork. "I always recommend that my patients eat a healthy diet of greens and meat, dearie."
Neal rolled his eyes. "Must ye make calf eyes over the salad, Rab?"
His brother snorted. "Calf eyes?" He gave his little brother a very light cuff on the back of the head. "Mind yer tongue, Master Impudence!"
Neal smirked, unfazed by the gentle tap. "Aye, sir. I'm mindin', else ye'd look worse than the radishes in that salad."
Rab, who could only imagine the scamp's questions and comments, said, "See that ye do, else you're gonna spend the next two days scrubbin' my infirmary."
Neal exhaled and promptly took another bite of his salad, figuring it was safer if he ate rather than talked right then.
Next came the crowning glory, the meat course. A whole haunch of venison basted in red wine and savory spices was served resting a bed of new potatoes, carrots, and onions. It was also accompanied by a suckling pig with an apple in its mouth. Both meats had been painstakingly slow roasted all day till the meat was tender and practically fell off the bones when it was carved.
The suckling pig was also accompanied by pan gravy and a stuffing of apples, corn, and chestnuts.
Everyone ate of the delicious meat, the pages and servers coming around twice and three times to refill platters. A robust red wine accompanied this course.
Rab observed that Malcolm seemed to be limiting himself to a glass apiece at each course rather than the several he normally had. He also made sure his brother's glass was replaced with normal cider instead of wine, deeming it too strong for a mere boy.
While they ate, a musician began to play a mandolin softly, and Rab looked across at his wife and asked. "How are ye settling in, Belle? Is there aught ye need?"
"Fine, Rab. I hae met with some of the household staff including the Chamberlain and the housekeeper and they hae introduced me to the upstairs servants. I will meet with the cook and so forth tomorrow after morning prayers."
"Yes, that would best," agreed Rab. "How does yer leg? Is it paining ye much?"
She shook her head. "Not much. It just throbs now and again."
"Good. 'Tis healing. I shall examine it after supper and again tomorrow morn t' make certain the swelling has gone down, then I would like tae do something with it that I have seen done before in Edinburgh by my mentor. I would like to apply a plaster casting to it, so that it may be protected better while it heals. The casting will enable ye to move about more freely, without fear ye may bang it and so forth. Would ye allow me to do so?"
"Why not? Ye are the doctor, after all, and I hae seen that ye know what ye are about," she agreed.
"Good. If it is not swollen tomorrow, I shall cast it." Rab said. He saluted her with his goblet of wine. "Slainte, my lady Carlyle!"
She returned his salute, thinking that were she better, she would enjoy spending more time with him. "Would ye like to play chess after supper? I ken I wish to see if I can beat ye."
Rab grinned. "It would be my pleasure, lass. And dinna think ye will find beating me an easy task."
"Rab's the best chess player here, besides Papa," Neal declared. "And even Papa cannae beat him half o' the time."
The next course was poultry—roasted pheasant and duck a'la'orange, another dish brought over by the queen from the French court. It was accompanied by a barley and bean mixture.
Belle loved pheasant and duck and ate the most of this course. The last course was the sweet, several pies—apple, cherry, and berry rhubarb, as well as sweet sticky buns, a three tiered cake frosted with rich cream frosting and the Carlyle and Fraser coat of arms in baked sugar. There was also a fruit bowl and different kinds of cheeses, with tea and a dessert Madeira.
Neal took all of the desserts and dug in with relish, prompting Rab to caution, "Dinna stuff yourself like a Michaelmas goose, Neal."
"M'fine. Dinna fash yerself!" his brother muttered around a mouthful of sticky bun.
"Och, if ye do, I'll no' be given ye anything for yer aching belly," Rab warned. Then he went to eat his own piece of cake and some apple pie with fresh cream.
Belle especially enjoyed the flaky buns, the apple pie with a wedge of cheddar cheese, and a cup of tea.
After the final course was served, Malcolm called for a piper and a harpist as well as the mandolin player to come and play some dance tunes.
People clapped and then partnered for reels and other roundels, even Malcolm danced with some of the unmarried ladies. A pretty lass called Heather, the fletcher's daughter, even asked Neal to dance with her. Belle watched the people on the floor, her good foot tapping in time to the music, and Rab came to sit beside her.
"If ye were well, I'd ask ye to dance," he told her honestly. "I'll admit, I cannae dance as well as I can heal but I enjoy it, especially with my bonny wife."
Belle smiled. "And if I dinna have this leg, I'd take ye up on yer offer, husband."
They watched the dancers for a bit more, then Rab suggested they retire to the solar so they could play a game of chess before bed. He called Missus Potts to assist him as they shepherded Belle up the stairs and down the west wing of the keep to where his mama's solar was.
Inside Belle found a cozy room with several stuffed cushioned chairs, a large window seat, bookshelf and a table with a chessboard upon it. Rab helped her to a seat, placed her foot gently upon a hassock, and then sat opposite her. "I believe, dearie, 'tis my turn to go first."
Belle found Rab a challenging opponent, one who was not afraid to take risks, but she also realized that he was a canny one as well. He made her think and fight for every move, and she had to admit he was a grand strategist.
When she commented on this, Rab said modestly, "That's because 'tis how I serve my papa best, as his war strategist. I am good wi' a sword, ye ken, but my heart is no' really in fighting. I prefer to plan strategy and then mend our men if they be hurt in battle. 'Tis a more fulfilling accomplishment for me and just as honorable as protecting our lands."
"I agree. I mean, even if women were allowed to fight, as they did of old, I prefer to stay home and heal the beasties and read in the garden or even plant in the garden. Though my papa did teach me how to defend myself. I can use a dirk and a small bow, though I dinna hunt except to put food on the table."
"I dinna enjoy hunting save for that reason either," Rab replied. "'Tis no sport for me to kill a beast for its hide or antlers."
"Hae ye read much, Rab?"
"Aye, a fair amount."
"What is your favorite book?"
"Besides my herbal and Hippocrates medical treatises?" he asked with wry grin. "Well, I do enjoy the old Latin poets—Virgil, Ovid, and of course Homer. Do ye read Latin, Belle?"
"I do. And speak it, French, Greek, and English. I can also read in those languages," she replied, a little warily for most men she knew did not like a female who was so learned. "I hae read the Legends of King Arthur and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight in French, and Plutarch's Lives, Caesar's commentaries, and of course I have read the Bible. My mama gave me a Book of Hours, and I read a page a day and try and meditate upon the verse."
"And what was the verse today?"
"It mentioned patience."
"A good trait to have," Rab said.
"And one I fear I need to work on, for at times I am often impatient," she admitted.
"I believe that's a flaw all of us possess," the doctor said. "Would ye care for another game, or do ye wish to go to sleep?"
Belle was about to agree to another round, but found that she was actually tired and said, "Mayhap I'd better go to sleep now." She grimaced as her ankle throbbed.
Rab helped her to her room and examined her ankle, pleased to find there was less swelling and then Missus Potts said she would help Belle get into her nightclothes.
"I will go and speak with my father. I want to know if he's set a date for his retreat with Father Bryce," Rab said.
Belle nodded, knowing the deal he had struck with the laird and hoping Malcolm still intended to honor it.
She sat and allowed Missus Potts to remove her gown and slip a soft chemise over her head. As Belle tied the ribbons, Rumple darted out from the bed hangings and swiped a paw at her hem, his green eyes glinting.
"Ye wee imp!" Belle laughed, and then dangled some yarn for him to play with.
As the kitten raced about the room, another cat came into the room, this one a pretty brown and gold tabby with a white bib and paws. She stopped when she saw the white and gold kitten, her back arching and tail lashing. She laid her ears back and hissed angrily at the newcomer.
Rumple skidded to a halt and stared at the newcomer, then mewed softly.
"Oh dearie me!" Missus Potts exclaimed. "That be the master's cat, Raine. And t'would seem she dinna take to finding another kitty here in her room."
"I'm sure she's just startled," Belle said, watching them. "She'll no' hurt Rumple."
"And just how d'ye ken that?" asked Missus Potts.
Belle shrugged.
The older cat had now sat down in the center of the room, her whiskers twitching and tail also. She watched Rumple intently.
The kitten abandoned the string and now came up to Raine curiously.
They sniffed noses, then Rumple proceeded to pounce upon Raine's tail, got swatted for his impudence, then darted away.
Raine followed, and the two were suddenly chasing each other under the bed and around the table, while Belle said, "See? They're playing."
"Och, aye, and precious little sleep ye'll get with this lot," her maid sniffed, then began to brush out Belle's hair.
Once that was done, Belle washed her face and hands, brushed her teeth, and then climbed into the feather tester with assistance after she drank the posset Rab had left for her.
Missus Potts stoked the fire, then asked, "Will ye require aught else, Lady Belle?"
"No, thank ye, I am quite comfortable," she assured the maid, and then dismissed her for the night.
Belle read her book on animal husbandry and wished she might check out the stables once her ankle was cast. The cats darted in and out of the bed hangings while she read until her eyes grew heavy and she put aside her book. As she drifted into slumber, she felt Rumple pounce on her good foot and Raine settle beside her on the pillow.
She must have dozed off but was awakened by the soft creak of the door and soft footsteps.
Belle stirred and opened her eyes to see her husband in the room. It was only then that she realized one very pertinent fact. This was also his bedroom and tonight he would sleep beside her. The thought was partly disconcerting.
Rab had glanced once at the bed, which still had the hangings drawn back, and saw Belle asleep among the pillows, her foot propped up, the two cats curled about her, and quietly began to undress. Normally his gillie would have assisted him, but he had bid the man stay and enjoy the festivities still going on in the hall. Rab unlaced his tunic and shirt, folding his plaid cloak and putting it over the bench at the foot of the bed.
He moved over to the wash stand and began to wash, running the soap and towel about his neck and chest, his back to the bed.
Belle was suddenly wide awake, as she caught sight of his naked torso, his back smooth with muscle as he ran the cloth about him. She had seen men bare to the waist before, as she had been around the stableyard and training field when the men-at-arms and grooms rinsed themselves off after a practice bout or a workout with a difficult horse, and yet none of them had ever stirred these odd feelings in her that seeing her husband's naked chest did.
He had turned around now, and was seated on the bench, taking off his shoes and stockings. She found her eyes irresistibly drawn to his lean frame, like a rangy hound or a swift courser, he didn't have slabs of muscle like the warriors, or the width of the shoulders and the tall frame of some of the Highlanders she had known, but his compact size made her like him all the more, because he did not intimidate her the way most men did, who were tall enough to pick her up and break her in half if they had a mind to.
Her eyes widened as she saw him stand up and begin to remove his breeches. She knew she ought to look away, but she was mesmerized by the way the velvet breeches slid down him, revealing his well shaped backside in his small clothes and his bare thighs and calves. Her mouth went dry as she imagined touching that well-muscled backside.
Rab tossed his clothing on the bench, then moved to the armoire and bent to find a nightshirt. As he did so, his small clothes slipped down, and Belle caught a glimpse of his bare behind.
Her indigo eyes widened to the size of gold florins and she could not stifle a gasp.
Rab had his head and shoulders in the nightshirt when he felt eyes on him and then heard a soft intake of breath. He froze with the shirt half on. "Belle?"
She suddenly lost the power of speech and remained with a hand over her mouth, her eyes riveted to the sight before her. Heat curled up through her.
Rab tugged the shirt down and straightened, realizing too late that she must have woken up when he was in the middle of undressing, and while he was used to seeing people in various stages of undress and naked also due to his profession, he feared he had shocked his virgin bride speechless.
He turned, awkward and flushing, to find his wife sitting up in bed, wide-eyed like a doe seeing a hunter and freezing. "I'm sorry, did I wake you, dearie? I thought I was being quiet."
"No . . .I . . . mean . . .I'm a light sleeper . . ." she felt her face flame and was grateful for the sheet she clutched to her. "I didn't realize . . .that ye would be . . .err . . .coming to bed . . .err . . .right away . . ."
He sat down on the edge of the bed. "Dearie, do ye know what time it is? Almost twelve o'clock. And I do want to get up early tomorrow so I can cast yer ankle. Do ye need something to help ye sleep?"
"No . . ." she shook her head, then an image of his bare backside, or what she had seen of it flashed in her head and she thought she should have taken him up on his offer because she was sure with that before her eyes she would find it impossible to sleep!
She could only imagine the penance the good father would impose on her for her impure thoughts come confession the next morning! Then she bit her lip. After all, was it really wrong to think such thoughts about one's husband? The Bible said that they should be fruitful and multiply.
Rab raised an eyebrow, thinking that she had probably gotten an eyeful. But what was done was done and all he could do was hope she had liked what she'd seen. He knew he wasn't the type of man any woman fantasized about, like a knight or a warrior, yet she had compared him to Fingal, so maybe he was wrong and she did like him and didn't mind that she was married to a wee physician and not some braw Highland soldier.
Then he pulled back the sheets and climbed into bed, thinking wryly that this would be the first night he had spent in the company of his wife in bed. As he slid between the sheets, he said, "Good night, Belle, dearie."
Then he blew out the candles and drew the bed hangings to keep out the drafts.
As he lay back against his pillow he encountered a warm furry body and muttered, "Raine, lass, must ye hog the pillow?"
The cat protested as he gently pushed her over, but then settled in the hollow between his ear and neck, purring.
"I hope ye dinna mind sharing the bed wi' my cat."
"Not if ye dinna mind my kitten. He's lying on my feet."
"Nay."
His eyes drifted shut, thinking it was a pity she was still injured, for he would have liked to explore the carnal delights many of his friends and his papa had boasted of, and being near Belle was making it damned awkward to go to sleep! He sternly told that part of his brain to shut itself off and began reciting Latin names for bones and organs in his head, hoping to dampen his sudden ardor.
Beside him he heard Belle sigh softly and shift her hand slightly until her fingers brushed his arm in the dark.
The contact made a certain part of his anatomy come wide awake.
Oh dearie dearie-dammit!
He began breathing deeply, trying to mediate and relax. He couldn't sleep like this . . .and he needed his sleep. He was sure Belle did too, and wished he had taken a sleeping draught or something. Who would have thought he would have this reaction to merely lying next to his wife?
He imagined a stream of icy water flowing over him, and at last his problem resolved itself and he sighed in relief and fell asleep.
As her husband's breathing evened out, Belle managed to put the rather arousing sight of his lean backside out of her head and close her eyes. Soon she too was asleep, but in her dreams she not only saw Rab's naked backside, but every other inch of him as well, just before she pulled him down on the bed and they consummated the marriage with a fiery passion she had never known existed.