“Ah, ye’re too kind, m’lady. I did little,” Joyce said, but beamed with pleasure.
Smiling, Saidh reached out to squeeze her hand in gratitude, and then turned to lead the way to the door, thinking that she would enjoy Joyce as her maid much more than she ever had Erin, and wondering if she could convince Lady MacDonnell or Greer to let her take her with her when she left. Lady MacDonnell was hardly likely to be eager to part with such a gem.
Thoughts of Lady MacDonnell reminded her of the woman knocking at her door last night to check on her after Greer had stabbed her with his cock and set her off bellowing. The memory made her bite her lip. She had been quite rude to the woman, leaving her standing in the hall to talk through the door, but had had little choice at the time. She really should apologize for it now though, she decided.
“How is Lady MacDonnell today?” Saidh asked as she opened her chamber door and led Joyce out into the hall.
“She is ha’ing a lie in, but I think is feeling better than yester eve,” Joyce said solemnly.
“And Laird MacDonnell?” Saidh asked, trying not to sound too eager.
“Oh, he seemed fine and fit this morn,” Joyce assured her. “Ha’e no’ seen the man smile so wide since he got here. I’m sure he has no’ been afflicted by whatever Lady MacDonnell and wee Alpin have.”
“Alpin is ill?” Saidh paused and turned to the woman with surprise.
“Aye,” Joyce said with a little sigh. “And he appears to ha’e it worse than Lady MacDonnell. She is merely tired, but wee Alpin was flush and shivering something fierce this morn when the laird dragged him down to break his fast.”
Saidh turned to start down the stairs with a frown. She found the news that the squire was ill surprisingly distressing considering what a pain in the arse the lad had been.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Joyce said suddenly as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “The cook asked me to tell ye that he made that applemoyse fer ye first thing this morn and ’tis ready whenever ye want it.”
“Oh.” Saidh’s frown turned into a grimace. She’d quite forgotten about her plan to sweeten Fenella up with the treat and then try to sort out if she was like the scorpion and killing was just in her nature.
Well, Saidh thought, she had to break her fast anyway. She could take the applemoyse up to Fenella for them both to break their fast with.
“Thank ye, Joyce,” Saidh said quietly as she led her to the door to the kitchens.
Cook was a large, florid-faced man who always seemed to be smiling from what Saidh could tell. He greeted her cheerfully, presented the applemoyse with pride and a pleasure that only seemed to grow when he realized she wanted it for her cousin. Saidh left the kitchens with the applemoyse and the distinct impression that the cook, as well as the rest of the servants in the kitchens, quite liked Fenella. None of them seemed to think she’d had anything to do with Allen’s death, and while they loved Lady MacDonnell they all felt it was a shame that in her grief, the woman was blaming “poor wee Fenella.”
Saidh pondered that as she headed back above stairs, wondering if they weren’t right. After all, Lady MacDonnell herself had even suggested that might be the case. Of course, Lady MacDonnell didn’t know that Fenella’s first husband’s death was not an attack by bandits. Just as Saidh hadn’t known about the feather in Laird MacIver’s mouth, which wasn’t conclusive evidence of anything, but certainly made a body wonder.
Saidh paused at her cousin’s chamber door, but before she could raise her hand to knock, it flew open and Fenella grabbed her arm and dragged her into the room.
“Where ha’e ye been?” Fenella cried, slamming the door and whirling to face her.
“Fetching ye the applemoyse I had Cook make special fer ye,” Saidh said warily and held out the treat.
“I did no’ mean now, I mean all yesterday after the nooning and in the even—” She paused suddenly, nose twitching and then peered down at the dessert. “Applemoyse?”
“Aye.” Saidh held it out to her. “ ’Tis still warm from the ovens.”
“It smells delicious,” Fenella said on a little sigh.
“Aye. I took Alpin out with me yesterday and we found and picked the apples fer ye.”
“Ye did?” Fenella asked with surprise.
Saidh nodded and shrugged. “Well, I remembered how fond ye were o’ applemoyse and I thought it might cheer ye.” She grimaced and added, “I gave them to Cook hoping he could make them in time fer ye to ha’e with sup last night, but ’twas too late, so he made it up first thing this morning.”
“Oh, Saidh. That was kind o’ ye,” Fenella said, offering her a smile.
Saidh smiled back and then glanced around and moved to set the dessert on a very tiny table in the corner of the room that she hadn’t noticed on her previous visits.
“I planned to check on ye last night after the sup, but I was no’ feeling well and went to bed early instead,” Saidh said as she turned back. She wasn’t lying, she hadn’t been feeling well when she’d left Greer in the great hall and stomped to the stairs to retire. She’d been cranky as an old hag. And she had gone to bed early, just not alone.
“I suspected ye were no’ feeling well,” Fenella admitted with a frown. “I ken ye had nightmares. I heard ye screaming yer head off and then Lady MacDonnell checking on ye.” She grinned suddenly and added, “ ’Twas rude o’ ye to leave the old cow in the hall and no’ e’en open the door when she’d dragged herself from her bed to look in on ye.”
“Oh,” Saidh said weakly, guilt flowing over her again at just how rude she’d been. She really needed to check on the woman after she left Fenella, and thank her again for her concern. Pushing that thought aside, Saidh glanced to Fenella and then waved her to the dessert. “Come, break yer fast. They were made special fer ye.”
“I ha’e already broken me fast,” Fenella confessed as she joined her by the table. “But I’ll no’ pass up applemoyse. You should ha’e some too though. Ye’re the one who went to find the apples.”