Page 11 of To Serve a Laird
She curtsied, opened the door, then she was gone, leaving Iain to stare after her, suddenly feeling desperately lonely.
5
Claire had not intended to do any reading when she went to bed, but as she looked at the history book she had brought with her, she simply could not help herself. When she opened it, she was dragged into its text with such force that she could not put it down.
Claire had no clock, but when her eyelids began to become heavy and the words blurred before her eyes, she reluctantly put the book away and turned over to go to sleep.
However, when she closed her eyes she found herself in the library again, looking into the ice-blue eyes of Iain Ross, who was staring at her angrily as he moved towards her.
Yet although the look held anger, there was something else in it too, and as he swept the ink and quill from her hands, she understood from her extensive reading that this was the way a man looked at a woman he desired.
As his hands touched hers, she saw his glance flick down to her mouth and his lips parted, and for a fleeting second, she thought he was going to kiss her?—
A hand grabbed her shoulder roughly, and she was shaken violently and jerked into wakefulness.
She looked up into another pair of eyes, but this time they were Lorna’s steely grey ones. and at first Claire was confused, still lost in her dream.
“What time dae ye ca’ this?” she demanded. “Get out o’ bed, or ye willnae be able tae have anythin’ tae eat before ye start work. We have a long day today.”
Claire suddenly realised that she had been asleep for hours. Now she was still sleepy and confused, her hair tousled and her eyes bleary. However, she was not going to make her situation any better by lying around, so she jumped out of bed and stood up.
She hastily scraped her hair into a braid at the back of her head, but she was uncomfortable with Lorna standing watching her.
Claire realised for the first time that she had a small advantage in height over Lorna. She herself was not tall, but the other maid was short but sturdy, and gave the impression of being bigger than she was due to her forceful personality. Lorna had always made Claire feel uncomfortable, but she was not as hateful as she had seemed at first.
Anyway, whether it was because she had made friends with the Laird, or because she had come to the realisation that Lorna was not the threat she had seemed at first, Claire felt a little stronger.
“I will be there in a moment,” she said, tilting her chin up.
Lorna gave her a glance, but said nothing more as she left, slamming the door behind her.
Claire hastily removed her nightdress and splashed some water on her face. Her eyes were gritty and sore, since she had not been able to put her book down till the early hours of the morning, and was now suffering the consequences.
She had managed to hide the books and candle underneath her bed, for which she was grateful because she shuddered to think what would have happened if Lorna had seen them.
Claire took a deep breath and went slowly towards the kitchen, dreading the coming confrontation more and more with every step she took.
Armed with all the courage she could gather, Claire strode into the kitchen, thanking her lucky stars that Lorna was not there. Neither, thank goodness, was Agnes, and Claire was able to help herself to a plate of tasteless, lumpy porridge before the coming confrontation. It was disgusting, but she needed to fill her empty stomach, and this was the only way.
She had just poured herself a cup of weak ale when Agnes walked in, her expression thunderous. “I willnae put up wi’ this any longer!” she shouted, slamming her palm on the rough table. “I will gie ye a good whippin’ an’ tell the Laird how much trouble ye are. Then ye will be out on your ear without a reference, an’ naebody else will take ye on! Dae ye understand me?”
“I do,” Claire replied, “and I am sorry for my lateness. It will not happen again.”
“Aye, well, make sure it doesnae,” Agnes replied, her voice throbbing with fury. “I dinnae have time tae waste puttin’ ye in your place a’ day.” She turned, then produced a sheet of parchment, then dragged her forefinger down the list that was written there.
“The Great Hall,” she said at last. “It needs tae be cleaned before the next council meetin’. There is a job for ye,madam!” She said the last word scathingly. “Dust an’ polish the furniture, picture frames an’ ornaments an’ scrub the floor. I will come an’ show ye what tae dae, an’ if I am no’ satisfied, I will make ye dae it again!”
She took Claire to a cupboard that held what seemed like a thousand brooms, mops, dusters and pulled out the tools shewould need, then, to her surprise, she took out another set for herself. Was the housekeeper actually going to help her?
Agnes turned back to Claire. “Listen tae what I tell ye. This needs tae be finished by the end o’ the day, so make sure ye put your back intae it! I will show ye what tae dae, then ye can finish it.”
“I will,” Claire said with a nod. She was trembling inside, but was determined not to show it. She finished her ale and followed Agnes into the Great Hall.
As soon as she stepped inside, she gasped. It was huge!
She had seen the room where the council meeting had been held the day before, but this was at least twice that size, and its huge table, running straight down the middle of the enormous space, had room for at least thirty seats.
She walked into the massive space, and listened carefully while Agnes gave her detailed instructions. Claire hoped she would be able to remember them all.
