“Aye.” She twisted the fabric back and forth. “He has left me with debts that I canna pay.”
“Tae whom are these debts owed? Would ye hae a record of them?”
She nodded. “I would sir, I have a list of them, and they have come askin’ for the full sum.”
Her hands shook as she lifted a parchment from the desk and brought it to him. She wrung her hands as he looked over it.
After a long pause Magnus said, “If I might take these debts under m’own authority, I would readily discharge them. You see, Lady Campbell and myself find ourselves in need of a household...” And so they spoke on the matter at length, arriving at an agreement, where Magnus and I would have a home, a chamberlain, servants, stables, and most importantly — food.
Somewhat less importantly in my mind, but important all the same, we would have a prestigious home with connections and that meant we could meet people.
My legs were tired by the end of the conversation. She was nervous, and I didn’t blame her. Inviting someone into your home was problematic in any century, but Magnus was fair and patient, but assertive, calmly explaining why she should take us up on the offer.
We would be helping her, but as the conversation went on, she grew more agitated. We knew it was only the circumstances in which she found herself, and no doubt she was embarrassed. She finally grew calm, quieting, and nodding at Magnus, her hands folded as if in prayer. At the end of their conversation she wiped her eyes, overcome to be out from under the debt, and we had an agreement. She would have her husband’s debts paid. We would have a household. She would remain living there, a prospect I wasn’t that excited about, but Magnus, and therefore, I, would have the run of the place.
She turned to me at the end, “Lady Campbell, ye hae nae bairn?”
It was the first time I had been addressed. “Oh, I...”
Magnus said, “She has lost one, we find ourselves separated from our others, a young boy and a young girl.”
She dabbed at her eyes with a cloth, “I hae lost all nine of m’bairn.” Then she was covering her face and weeping over her loss.
“I am so sorry for your loss, my condolences, Lady Fleming.”
She cried, her eyes cast down, nodding. Magnus and I looked at each other. He said, “Lady Fleming, with my wife I offer ye my true condolences. It is indeed a sad business. But, if I may, I know my wife is weary, could ye hae someone show her tae our rooms?”
Lady Fleming nodded, and called her chamberlain into the room, but then was too overcome to complete the request. Magnus intervened with his first request as the new man of the house, “Can someone show Lady Campbell tae our rooms?”
I was led upstairs to the third floor by one of the servants. Our bedroom was sparsely decorated, a four-poster bed with curtains. A fluffy feather mattress, good enough, and some thick blankets. A fireplace. A table for a desk. A stool.
A tapestry hung from the wall, and there was a small alcove window that looked out over the high road and in the near distance the castle walls. The proximity seemed good.
Magnus came to the room a while later, carrying most of our load. A servant carried the rest, and put our bags where Magnus directed. We dismissed the servant and Magnus dropped to the bed.
“We hae a home.”
“I can’t believe you did it. You got us a place to live. I’m proud of you.”
He chuckled, relaxed on the bed, an arm cocked behind his head. “Tell me of it in a week when ye are beside her prayin’ tae God every morn and bein’ asked tae organize the staff for evenin’ meals, while she is in her chamber overwrought by her duties. I can leave and go tae town, or tae hunt if it gets too close with Lady Fleming, but I fear ye are goin’ tae have the the whole of her mood weighin’ down on ye. She is fearful and anxious and dreadfully misses her husband. I would judge him well because of it, but he has left her in debt which he should hae planned better about. And so she will try on ye, mo reul-iuil, with excessive drudgery, but ye will need tae be acceptin’ of her faults. She does come with a verra