Saving Grace (24 page)

“Yes,” Johanna hurriedly agreed, lest Megan think she wasn’t appreciative of her husband’s consideration. “I believe I’ll work on my tapestry tonight. That should please my husband.”

“You’re a good wife to want to please him.”

“Nay, Megan, I’m not a very good wife.”

“But of course you are,” Megan countered.

Gabriel walked inside in time to hear the Maclaurin woman’s remark. He paused at the top step, waiting for his wife to turn around and notice him. She was busy placing trenchers on the table in front of each stool.

“A good wife is a submissive wife.”

“Is being submissive a bad thing?” Megan asked.

“It doesn’t seem to agree with me,” Johanna replied, trying to make light of the painful topic.

“You seem very submissive to me,” Megan announced. “I haven’t noticed you ever disagreeing with anyone, m’lady, especially your husband.”

Johanna nodded. “I have tried to do his bidding because he has proven to be considerate of my feelings. It will please him to have me sit by the fire and work on my sewing, and since I do enjoy the task, I will accommodate him.”

“That’s good of you, wife.”

Gabriel drawled out his opinion. Johanna turned around to look at her husband. She blushed with embarrassment. She felt as though she’d just been caught doing something sinful.

“I wasn’t being disrespectful, m’lord.”

“I didn’t believe you were.”

She stared at him a long minute trying to guess what he was thinking. His expression was contained, and she couldn’t tell if he was angry or amused with her.

She was a fair sight to him with her face all flushed pink with her embarrassment. She looked worried. For that reason he didn’t smile. It occurred to him that his wife had come a long way since they were married. In just a little under three months, she’d conquered her fear of him. She no longer trembled at the sight of him. She was still too damned timid to suit him, but he hoped, with time and patience, she’d outgrow that flaw.

“Was there something you wanted, husband?”

He nodded. “We don’t have a healer here, Johanna. Since you’ve proven handy with a needle and thread, I want you to sew up Calum. He got his arm sliced through by an inexperienced soldier he was trying to train.”

Johanna was already hurrying toward the steps to fetch her supplies. “I would be happy to help. I’ll just collect the things I’ll need and come right back down. Poor Calum. He must be in terrible pain.”

Her prediction proved false. When Johanna returned to the great hall, Calum was waiting for her. He was seated on one of the stools and was being bathed in attention by the women surrounding him.

Leila, Johanna noticed, was most upset by Calum’s condition. She stood on the opposite side of the table pretending to be arranging the flowers she’d collected. Her eyes were misty, and she kept glancing over to look at the soldier. Calum was ignoring her.

The Maclaurin woman obviously held affection for the MacBain soldier. She was trying hard not to let her feelings show. Johanna wondered if it was because Calum hadn’t shown any interest in her or if Leila hid her true feelings because she was a Maclaurin and Calum was a MacBain. One thing was certain. Leila was miserable. Johanna knew it wasn’t her place to interfere; but Leila was such a dear woman, she really wanted to try to help.

Suddenly, another Maclaurin woman came rushing past Johanna.

“I’ll be happy to sew you up, Calum,” Glynis called out. The woman who’d given Johanna the nickname Courageous was smiling at the soldier. “It won’t matter to me that you’re a MacBain. I’ll do a fair job all the same.”

Johanna stiffened her spine and hurried across the room. “Please move aside,” she ordered. “I’ll take care of Calum. Leila? Bring me a stool.”

Gabriel came back into the hall, saw the crowd, and immediately dismissed them.

Johanna studied the injury. It was a long, narrow cut that started at Calum’s left shoulder and ended just above his elbow. It was deep enough to require threads to hold it together so it would heal.

“Does it pain you, Calum?” she asked, her voice filled with sympathy.

“Nay, m’lady, not at all.”

She didn’t believe him. She put her supplies on the table and sat down on the stool next to the soldier. “Then why are you grimacing, sir?”

“I have displeased my laird,” Calum explained in a low whisper. “The paltry cut is proof to him I wasn’t paying attention.”

After giving her his explanation, he glanced back over his shoulder to frown at Leila. She immediately lowered her gaze. Johanna wondered if the soldier held the Maclaurin woman responsible for his inattention.

Calum didn’t even flinch while she worked on his injury. It took her a long time to clean the cut, but stitching it up didn’t take much time at all. Leila assisted her by tearing long strips of white cotton material to use as a bandage.

“There,” Johanna declared when she was finished. “You’re as good as new, Calum. Don’t get the bandage wet, and please don’t put any strain on my threads by lifting anything heavy. I’ll change the bandage every morning,” she added with a nod.

“He can take care of that chore.”

Gabriel walked over to the hearth. He knelt down on one knee to greet his pet.

“I would prefer to change the bandages, m’lord,” Johanna called out. She moved back so Calum could stand up, then walked around to the other side of the table. Leila had left the flowers in a clutter on the tabletop. Johanna was going to put them in the porcelain vase of water before they started wilting.

“Don’t contradict my orders, wife.”

Gabriel stood up and turned to his soldier. His voice was filled with anger when he ordered him to leave the hall. “Get back to your duties, Calum. You’ve wasted enough time. Leila, stay put. I want to have a word with you before you leave.”

The harshness in her husband’s voice astonished Johanna. He was obviously furious with the soldier, and some of his anger was spilling over to Leila. The Maclaurin woman looked stricken. Johanna’s heart went out to the woman. She wanted to defend her. She decided she would have to find out what Leila had done to displease her laird first.

“I’ve just instructed Calum not to lift anything heavy, m’lord.”

“He’s going to be working on the wall.”

“Do you mean carrying rock?” She sounded horrified.

“I do.” He sounded mean.

“He can’t.”

“He will.”

She picked up a flower and stuffed it into the vase. She wasn’t paying any attention to what she was doing. She was fully occupied glaring at her husband.

She wasn’t being fair, she decided. Her husband just didn’t realize how severe Calum’s injury was. “The cut was quite deep, m’lord. He shouldn’t be doing any work at all.”

“I don’t care if he lost his arm, wife. He will work.”

“He’ll tear my stitches.”

“He can use one hand or kick the stones for all I care. Leila?”

“Yes, Laird MacBain?”

“You will not distract my soldiers when they’re at work. Do you understand me?”

Tears filled her eyes. “Yes, Laird MacBain. I understand. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t. You may leave now.”

Leila made a quick curtsy and turned to leave. “Do you wish me to return tomorrow to help your mistress?”

Johanna was about to say yes. Gabriel beat her with his answer. “It isn’t necessary. One of the MacBain women will take over your chores.”

Leila went running out of the hall. Johanna was infuriated with her husband. She rammed another flower into the vase and shook her head at him.

“You’ve crushed her feelings, m’lord.”

“Her feelings won’t get her killed,” he snapped.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Come, Dumfries. It’s time to go outside.”

Johanna shoved the rest of the flowers into the vase and then hurried over to block her husband’s exit. She stopped just a foot away from him.

Her hands were settled on her hips and her head was tilted all the way back so she could look him in the eye.

His wife wasn’t acting timid now. God’s truth, there was fire in her eyes. Gabriel was so pleased by the gumption his wife was showing, he felt like grinning.

He scowled instead. “Are you questioning my motives?”

“I believe I am, m’lord.”

“It isn’t permitted.”

She changed her approach. “Giving my opinion is permitted,” she reminded him. “And it’s my opinion you embarrassed Leila with your criticism.”

“She’ll survive,” he snapped.

It was difficult but she didn’t back away from his glare. “A good wife would probably let the matter drop,” she whispered.

“Aye, she would.”

She let out a sigh. “I don’t suppose I’m a very good wife then, Gabriel. I still want to know what Leila did to make you angry.”

“She damned near got my soldier killed.”

“She did?”

“Aye, she did.”

“But surely not on purpose,” she defended.

He leaned down until his face was just inches away from hers. “Calum is at fault. He seems to have caught your affliction, wife. He wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing.”

She straightened her spine. “Are you referring to that little incident I was involved in, husband, when I accidentally walked into the middle of your training session?”

“I was.”

“It’s rude of you to bring that up,” she announced.

He didn’t look like he cared if he was being rude or not. “Staying alive is more important than hurt feelings,” he muttered.

“That is true,” she conceded.

Dumfries interrupted with a loud bark. Gabriel turned, called to his pet, and left the room without sparing his wife a backward glance.

Johanna thought about the conversation the rest of the afternoon. She knew she probably shouldn’t have interfered in her husband’s decisions regarding his clanspeople. She hadn’t been able to stop herself, though. In the few months she’d been married, she’d grown quite fond of both Calum and Leila.

In truth, she was surprised by her own behavior. In the past she’d learned not to form any attachments because involvement led to caring, and then her first husband would have yet another weapon to use against her. Her affection for her staff put them in jeopardy.

Chelsea had been Johanna’s first lesson. She was the cook’s assistant, just about Johanna’s own age, and a very sweet-tempered girl. Raulf knew Johanna enjoyed helping in the kitchens. She mentioned to him how she liked being around Chelsea because the girl had such a quick wit and found pleasure in everything she did.

Chelsea broke an egg one morning. Cook reported the loss to Raulf. He broke Chelsea’s leg that afternoon. Bishop Hallwick had advised the punishment for such a grievous offense was adequate penance.

Things were as different as night and day here, however. She could have friends here and not worry about their safety.

Father MacKechnie joined them for dinner. He looked weary from his journey to and from the Lowlands but was full of news he wanted to share about the latest happenings in England.

The soldiers were all talking at once, and it was difficult to hear what the priest had to say.

“Pope Innocent is surely going to excommunicate King John,” Father MacKechnie reported in a near shout so he’d be heard. “The country will soon be put under an interdict.”

“What has he done to warrant such harsh treatment?” Johanna asked.

“John was determined to put his own man in the position as archbishop of Canterbury. Our pope wouldn’t have his interference. He announced his choice, an outsider to England, I understand; and John, furious over the selection, gave the order not to allow the man into England.”

One of the Maclaurin soldiers made a quick jest the other soldiers found vastly amusing. Johanna had to wait until the howling coming from the second table had calmed before speaking again.

“What will happen if the country is placed under an interdict?”

“The subjects will suffer, of course. Most of the priests will have to flee from England. No masses will be said, no confessions heard, no marriages performed. The only sacraments Pope Innocent will allow will be baptisms for the innocent newborns and extreme unction for the dying, providing the family can find a priest to administer the sacrament in time. It’s a sorry state of affairs, Lady Johanna, but the king doesn’t seem too upset by such dire circumstances.”

“He’ll probably rob from the churches as a method of getting even.” Gabriel made that speculation. Johanna agreed.

Father MacKechnie was appalled by the possibility. “He’ll burn in hell if he does,” he muttered.

“His soul’s already lost, Father.”

“You cannot know for certain, lass.”

Johanna lowered her gaze. “No, I cannot know for certain.”

Father MacKechnie changed the subject. “Prince Arthur’s dead,” he announced. “Some think he died at Eastertime four years ago.”

Father MacKechnie paused. “There’s talk the prince was murdered.”

Gabriel was watching Johanna now. He noticed her complexion had turned as pale as milk.

“He probably was murdered,” Calum said.

“Yes, but the question plaguing the barons is ...”

“Who killed him,” Calum supplied.

“Exactly,” the priest agreed.

“What is the current speculation?” Gabriel asked.

“Most of the barons believe King John had Arthur killed. He’s denying any knowledge of his nephew’s fate, of course.”

“The king is the only one with a strong motive,” Calum said.

“Perhaps,” Father MacKechnie agreed.

“A toast to a fair day’s work.”

The shout came from Keith. The Maclaurin soldiers all stood with their goblets in their hands. The MacBain soldiers followed. They met between the two tables, struck their goblets against each other’s, and then downed what was left of the dark ale. Most of the drink had spilled to the floor.