Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,92
Have him meet me in my chamber.”
He gave a few instructions to his men and hurried inside to clean up.
While he’d rather die than take anything from Garrin MacRay, he didn’t consider his wife’s dowry as charity but as something his wife was entitled to. ’Twas hers and part of the marriage contract he could now only vaguely remember signing.
He made his way into the keep and took the stairs to his chamber. Hopefully, the wagon contained flour and salt for their larders were dangerously low on both. Hell, they were dangerously low on everything.
He had just finished washing up when Lachlan arrived. Richard gave him a quick summary as he pulled on a fresh tunic.
Lachlan stood in the doorway and shook his head. “Ye mean ye signed a document without readin’ it first?” He was clearly appalled with the notion.
“If ye remember, I was not in a state of mind to pay attention to the marriage contract. I was too busy trying to keep from killin’ the MacRay.” Richard didn’t appreciate Lachlan’s sense of dismay.
Lachlan chuckled, “Aye, and after ye saw what David was givin’ ye for a bride, that was all ye could think about.”
Richard shot him an angry glare that warned him to tread lightly, cousin or no.
“What do ye suppose is in it? In the dowry wagon?” Lachlan asked as he took a seat and stretched out his long legs.
“I pray to God there be salt in it. I swear, if I have to listen to Hattie complain one more time about the lack of salt and flour in her larders, I will hang myself.”
Lachlan chuckled lightly. “I for one am gettin’ a wee tired of the bland bannocks and rabbit stew.”
Richard couldn’t agree more. “Let us take time away from workin’ in the quarry and go on a hunt.”
Lachlan chewed on that idea for all of one heartbeat. “God’s teeth what I would not give for some good roast venison.” He got to his feet and headed for the door. “How many men?”
“Five should be enough for a hunt,” Richard told him before an idea formed. “And let us bring Raibeart and Colyne along. It be about time the lads learned how to hunt properly.”
Lachlan approved of that idea. “I agree. But are ye certain Colyne is mature enough?”
Colyne. “If the past few weeks are any indication, then aye, I say he is.”
Lachlan had just opened the door to find Rory on the other side. “The wagon be here.”
Aeschene was quite surprised to learn of a wagon containing her dowry was on the way. She and Marisse had been in the kitchens going over next week’s menu with Hattie when Richard arrived with the news. “Praise be to God, let there be salt and flour in that wagon,” Hattie exclaimed. She made a sign of the cross and looked heavenward.
Aeschene was unable to hide her excitement as Richard lead her out of the kitchens. “Are ye quite certain it be a dowry, Richard?”
“That is what the messenger said,” he replied.
“But da told me he spent my dowry, long ago,” she murmured.
Richard stopped and looked at her. “What do ye mean, lass?”
She tried dismissing the topic altogether, by changing the subject. “I wonder what he has sent?”
Richard looked to Marisse for clarification.
“Ye see, her da—”
“Me da did not think I would ever get a husband,” Aeschene interjected. “Now, let us go and see what is in the wagon.”
The fact that she changed the subject and would not allow Marisse to answer his simple question wasn’t lost on Richard. Whenever the subject of her family came up, especially her father, Aeschene would always turn the discussion to another topic. Richard made a mental note to take Marisse aside and have her tell him the truth. He was quite certain he wasn’t going to get it from his wife.
’Twas all Richard could do not to erupt like a long dormant volcano.
He stood next to the wagon with a copy of the marriage contract. Clearly listed were ten sacks of flour, two sacks of salt, seven jars of honey, a dozen skins of wine… the list was quite long. His hope soared until the tarpaulin was pulled back and the contents revealed.
The items were there, as listed.
The ten sacks of flour were no bigger than a man’s hand. The two ‘sacks’ of salt would have fit in the pouch he carried on his waist, so small were they. The jars of honey were no bigger than the small jars