“But ye couldnae.”
“I did but heart and mind ne’er did. This may nay have to stand forever. Nigel is young and may find a wife, breed his own son. Then we dinnae need to be so secretive. He just wouldnae want David’s name, weel, stained in any way. Right now I can act the father just as many men do when they marry a lass with a child.” He cocked one brow at Brett who then nodded. “It will do and when the boy is old enough, I will explain it all to him.”
“We will hold faith with your promise to David. After all, we owe the mon your life. ’Tis just a verra high price the mon asked for your life but I am nay sure I would have done differently.”
“David loved the lad, treated him as if he truly was his own get. The lad could someday be a laird.” Harcourt shrugged. At that time I certainly couldnae have offered a child a future like that. But, ’tis done and I will live with it. ’Tis comforting that I can now have the raising of him and he already calls me Papa.”
“’Tis good.” He glanced toward the keep. “Think they are done with whate’er it is they were doing?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“There is ale in the great hall.”
“Then we will wait for them there.” He looked back at Benet and Joan’s two boys. “We are going inside. If ye stay out here, be careful. If ye can find one of those MacFingals they would show ye around if ye like.”
“We will be careful, Papa,” said Benet, “and we have Roban to protect us.”
Harcourt nodded and, as he and Brett walked into the great hall he had to explain why his son would think a cat that liked to ride around on a lamb would be protection. He had to pour Brett’s ale for him because he was laughing so hard.
“Weel,” said Annys as she, Joan, and Triona walked through the kitchens heading for the kitchen gardens, “’tis clean enough but verra bare, isnae it.”
“Aye,” agreed Triona. “’Tis a household of men. Be grateful for the cleanliness.”
“’Tis untouched,” said Joan as they stepped outside. “Ye dinnae need to take away anything or change anything. Just decide what ye want.”
“Verra true,” said Annys. “I can actually plan what I want and just do it without much rearrangement. Oh sweet Mary’s cow,” she muttered as she looked at what she supposed was supposed to be a garden.
“Aye.” Triona nodded and scowled at the weed-choked area. “Men. Aye, I ken there are some women about but no one who appears to ken what chores need to be done. They clean and they cook and then they go home. Only a verra few stay here.” She looked at Joan. “It wasnae safe for a lass under the last laird. I fear it will take time for the women to believe it is safe now.”
“Nay that long,” Joan said. “After all, there is a lady here now. The laird is wed and brought her home. I will get some of them to come here. Start with the ones who would verra much like to be away from home.”
“Clever.”
Joan looked at the garden and quickly grabbed Annys by the arm when she started to bend down. “Ye can tend it later. We both will. We will get my lads to help or find a few lassies from the village.”
“Aye. It can wait. What hasnae been choked to death by now will last a few more days.” Annys looked around. “I would wager there is nay a place with any flowers.”
“I think there used to be. Over here,” said Triona as she led them around the corner and to an area near the rear wall.
It took Annys a while to look through the growth that had been left to go wild to find traces of some order. “Aye, once there was a nice wee spot here. I will add reviving that to my list.”
“This is nay what ye were expecting, is it?”
“Weel, nay, but it is solid and it is defensible. I have learned the importance of that just lately. And, as Joan has said, I start anew with little in my way.”
“Just dinnae try to do it all at once.”
“Wheesht, nay. I cannae.” She slid her hand down and rubbed her belly. “I am fair sure that would be a verra bad idea.” She grinned when both women cried out in delight. “Hush! I havenae told Harcourt yet.”
“But ye are certain?” asked Joan.
“Aye. I had begun to wonder for I was late with my woman’s time. Then, yesterday, when Harcourt offered to take me for a wee walk”—she ignored Joan’s snort of laughter for they all knew what he had intended, and succeeded at, when he had suggested a walk—“we went by where all the horses were tethered and it was, weel, a wee bit ripe, and my stomach roiled so much, I grew so pale, and began to sweat, that Harcourt was quite worried. I assured him it was just being in the cart all day and then smelling so much horse. We went a wee bit further away and he gave me some cider from his drinking horn and I revived.”
“And that is when ye kenned for certain?”