The Highlander's Destiny (Highland Rogues #2) - Mary Wine Page 0,52
Faolan came around the bend in time to see Orla raising a rod up high as two of the men from the kitchen held Brynna down on her knees with her arms behind her.
“I was no’ thieving,” Brynna declared. In spite of her dire circumstances, the girl’s voice was firm and steady. She didn’t cower but stared straight at Orla.
“Not thieving?” Orla demanded. She used the rod to point at the broken pottery jar on the floor. “I gave ye no permission to take anything from the stillroom.”
“The salve is for the mistress. Since ye sent her to the laundry to scrub the day through, her hands are near to peeling.”
“Mistress?” Orla demanded. “The mistress is resting in her grave. Little wonder ye think Cora Mackenzie is anyone worthy of serving, for she is cut from the same cloth as ye. Doing whatever she pleases whenever she decides to. Well, I saw the sheet this morning with me own eyes, and it was clean.”
“What matters is the way the laird looks at her,” Brynna continued. “It’s the same way yer son looks at me.”
Orla laughed. It was a low sound so unpleasant, Faolan pushed himself the last few paces so he might intercede.
The Head-of-House was startled. Faolan pulled the rod from her grip as he sent the men holding Brynna a stern look. They released her instantly, bending slightly as they backed away and tugged on the corner of their caps. Faolan looked back at Orla. The Head-of-House was no stranger.
“If ye’ve something to say to me, then so be it.” Orla proved she wasn’t going to snivel. “Being Head-of-House means keeping order.”
“Ye sent me wife to the laundry?” Faolan inquired softly.
Orla propped her hand on her hip. “I sent yer bride to prove what she knows about running a large house. It would be foolish of me to allow her into the kitchen without testing her. Unless ye fancy food poisoning. Since the sheet was clean, she clearly does nae see performing her duties as something important.”
There was a snicker from one of the maids hiding in the shadows.
“Yer authority does nae extend to me wife’s character,” Faolan said. “And since ye sent Brynna to me towers, the girl is mine to direct.”
“All the better.” Orla refused to back down. “For me son has already seen the error of his ways in setting his sights on her.” The Head-of-House looked at Brynna. “Me Cameron is set to wed a girl who is nae a foundling like ye.”
Another round of snickers came from the shadows. Faolan bristled. He sent Orla a harsh look. “Since ye are willing to show me yer face when ye insult me, ye may keep yer position because ye are not a coward. But I will make one thing very clear to ye. There will be no banishing from this stronghold without my approval. Cross me on that Orla, and ye will suffer the same fate ye gave me mother. I swear that to you.”
Orla shut her mouth so quickly, there was a click from her teeth. Behind him, there was complete silence.
“Brynna?”
“Aye, laird?”
“Bring me a jar of the salve.”
Brynna inclined her head before she turned and returned to the stillroom. Orla narrowed her eyes, for the stillroom was a place only those with permission entered. Inside it was the costliest items the kitchens had. Herbs, spices, medicines. Orla was charged with making certain there was ample supply for the winter. Faolan understood the need for the Head-of-House to instill fear of retribution, but Orla enjoyed those moments too much for his taste.
But replacing her wasn’t so simple. He might just end up with someone incompetent who really would give them all food poisoning. Or see his Retainers rebelling against his authority because the storerooms ran out of grain before the next harvest.
Brynna returned and offered him a small jar. He could close his hand all the way around it because of how little it was, but the contents were precious. He turned to look at Brynna.
“Tomorrow, ye will attend to me wife. Unless she decides otherwise.”
Brynna lowered herself. Half a dozen Retainers had followed him. Faolan watched the way they took in the moment. The staff inside the kitchens remained silent. He started to walk away but stopped and looked at one of the Retainers.
“Reece.”
The young man reached for the corner of his cap. “Laird?”
“See that Brynna is placed in a sleeping chamber for the night. One befitting her position as Lady McKay’s attendant.”