Page 136 of Historical Hotties
Jolted from her morose thoughts, she sat straight and faced him. “Aye, m’lord,” she replied. “I… I have never been this far south before.”
Across the table, the children tittered and pink crept into Carington’s cheeks. Richard pretended he did not hear anything. “We are quite happy to introduce you to Prudhoe and the surrounding country,” he said. “I am sure you will find the English people very warm and friendly.”
She smiled weakly. “I am sure, m’lord. The Scots people are also warm and friendly, in spite of what the English may think of them.”
Edward suddenly burst out with loud laughter, spraying food all over the table. “Papa, she talks funny again!”
Carington dropped her face straight down, staring into her lap, as Anne leapt into the conversation. “Edward, another word and you shall leave this table,” she said sternly.
Little Edward was a genuinely cute child but he was, as most occupants of Prudhoe believed, a monster in disguise. He looked at his mother with wide-eyed innocence. “Mama, can we teach her to talk like us?”
“You cannot teach a Scot anything,” Gilbert snapped from his other side. “Besides, she is too old.”
“She isnottoo old,” Anne stressed to her eldest. “Gilbert, you will be polite to our guest or you will join your brother in his punishment.”
“But I was not being rude, Mama. I have heard Papa say many times that Scots are dense.” His gaze drifted to Carington. “She is older than Julia and Kristina. And she is shorter. Is she married?”
Carington had about all she could take. They were speaking of her as if she were not sitting right in front of them, hurling insults with no rebuke. Her head snapped up and she focused on the ill-mannered child.
“I am not married, Master Gilbert,” she said, tension in her voice evident. “And I am indeed older than yer pasty-faced companions. I am also far better mannered than the lot of you, so shut yer yap before I drive nails through yer lips to close them.”
She was practically yelling when she finished and the reaction to her speech took various courses; Richard sprayed his ale all over the table, Anne’s jaw dropped, Kristina and Julia yelped as if they had been mortally insulted. Strangely, Gilbert and Edward were actually silenced; their eyes were as wide as the heavens as they stared at the venom-tongued Scot. For a split second, no one moved, including Creed. The shock was too great. Then, the boys suddenly leapt to their feet and began screaming at Carington. She responded by shaking her fist at them and threatening to jump over the table.
Creed’s moment of surprise quickly vanished when he realized the situation was plummeting. In truth, he was having a difficult time holding a straight face. Carington had said everything to Edward, Gilbert and the two haughty girls that he had always wanted to say but could not. It would not do to insult his liege’s children or wards, and he was especially unwilling to insult the man who risked his neck to remove him from the king’s wrath.
But he had to do something; Carington was all but threatening to throttle Richard’s boys. In fact, she was already up and putting her feet on the bench. He could easily picture her hurling herself over the table and tackling the children. Bolting to his feet, he grabbed Carington around the waist and hauled her away from the table.
“My lady is exhausted,” he said to Anne as he passed her with his snarling bundle. “Forgive her uncontrolled behavior. Please allow her to rest from this day.”
Anne was more concerned for Carington than she was for her boys at the moment. “Do not punish her, Creed,” she said as he walked towards the yawning exit. “She is simply overwrought. Please take her to the ladies’ chamber at the top of the stairs. We have prepared a bed for her.” The last words were shouted as he disappeared from sight.
The knights watched Creed carry her out. Ryton rose and followed. He caught his brother as the man crossed the bailey and was preparing to enter the three storied keep to the north of the hall.
“Creed,” he put his arm on his brother’s shoulder. “I shall take her. Return to the hall and finish your meal. I fear I have burdened you with an unwieldy task and you have more than performed your duties. I shall take the chore now.”
Creed knew his brother meant well. He could hear guilt in his voice. But he shook his head. “No need,” he replied. “I assumedthis responsibility. I shall see it through. The best thing you can do is to go back and calm the throng so they do not form a lynch mob against the lady. I fear what Gilbert and Edward will do in retaliation.”
“Anne will control them,” he eyed Carington’s red face. “Are you sure you do not want me to take her?”
Creed shook his head as they entered the keep. There was a small spiral staircase off to the left and he half-carried her, half shoved her onto the first step. “Nay,” he grunted as she resisted his efforts. “I have grown accustomed to these little tantrums. I think I am better adept at handling them than you are.”
“Dunna speak of me as if I am not here,” Carington was trying to turn around to yell at them both. “And if ye expect me to apologize to those two spoiled bairns, then I can tell ye that I willna. They deserved everything I said!”
Creed cocked an eyebrow, turning her around and swatting her behind firmly when she resisted. “They may have deserved it, but you have a good deal to learn about decorum and tact.”
Carington yelped when he spanked her, a sharp sting. But it was enough to make her stop her struggles and glare at him. “Ye’ll teach me nothing, Sassenach. I’ll die first.”
Creed did not reply. The last Ryton saw of his brother and the lady, he had her under the arms and was lifting her up the stairs.
The smaller chamber that had been prepared for Carington was on the third floor of the massive keep. There were three rooms on the floor, two larger ones to the right and then a smaller one to the left. Creed all but dragged her inside one of the chambers and closed the door.
He released her once they were inside and she faced off against him like an angry wet hen. Before he could speak, she jabbed a finger at him.
“Ye’ll not throw me around like a roughhouse wench,” she scolded. “I dunna appreciate being tossed about for all to see.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Do not act like a roughhouse wench and you shall not be treated like one. Your actions dictate mine, lady.”
She put her hands on her hips, her lovely face red with fury. “Those children were horrible. I had to defend myself.”
