The Key Page 13

  Iliana hesitated briefly. "I do not know. 'Tis expected, but..." She paused and bit her lip, and Seonaid gave a growl of frustration.

  "Expected. I am no good at any of the things expected. 'Tis the truth I remember nothing ye told me about herbs this morning, and I have no clue what needs to be doin' in a keep. I shall make a terrible wife. 'Tis no wonder Sherwell never came for me."

  Iliana felt her heart clench at those pained words and immediately sought to cheer the other woman. "Nay. You shall make a wonderful wife, Seonaid, and there is much for a husband to admire in you. Why, just look at your skill in...with the sword." She nodded her head firmly. "Well, goodness, any man would be grateful to have a wife capable with the sword."

  Seeing doubt in the other woman's eyes, Iliana forced herself to go on. "And then there is your skill at...er...hunting. Aye, hunting is a most valuable skill. You shall never go hungry." She nodded vigorously again to back that up. "And, why, I have never seen a woman ride as well as you do. Never. 'Tis a most valuable skill."

  "Yer a very poor liar." When Iliana deflated at the gentle accusation, Seonaid smiled slightly. "But 'twas kind of you to do so, me sister."

  Iliana blinked at the title in surprise, then brightened. "We are sisters now, are we not? My goodness, I have ever wanted a sister to play with. I often thought that...." Sighing, she smiled wryly at the wistful sound to her own voice and shook her head as she sank back in her seat.

  "Who did you play with?" Seonaid asked curiously.

  Iliana blinked at the question. "Well, I played with...well, I did not really play much. I was busy you see, with classes and--" Seeing the pity on the other woman's face, Iliana frowned and shook her head. "I really had a fine childhood. I had the best dresses, the best tutors...I had everything."

  "Everything but friends. Ye were lonely."

  Iliana shook her head at once. "I had my parents. They loved me very much and I spent most of my time with them."

  "Mayhap, but they had each other. Ye must have felt like the third wheel on a hand cart."

  "I...do not..."

  "'Tis all right. I am sorry if I upset ye, 'twas just thinkin aloud I was doing. But, ye see, it explains a lot about ye to me."

  "What does it explain?" Iliana asked warily, and Seonaid shrugged.

  "Yer very quiet. Ye hardly speak at all sometimes except to give orders and such. It makes ye seem standoffish, but I think now 'tis just shyness. Ye've no experience at socializing except with your parents."

  When Iliana's eyes widened in surprised acknowledgment of the truth of those words, Seonaid seemed encouraged to go on. "And then there is the way ye take charge."

  "Take charge?" Iliana said, dismayed.

  "Aye. The mornin' after ye arrived here, ye took over running the place. Not that there is anything wrong with that," she added quickly at Iliana's alarm. "The place needed taking charge of, but ye didn't e'en think to ask was anyone else in charge. Ye just set to. Ye must not have had to share yer toys as a child."

  When Iliana opened her mouth, then closed it again helplessly, Seonaid peered down at her failed attempt at mending, then sighed. "I shall never master this," she muttered, tossing it aside and getting to her feet. "Thank ye fer tryin' to teach me, though. I am to bed."

  Iliana watched her go, then sank back in her seat to consider all the woman had said. She hardly noticed when her eyes began to slip wearily closed.

  "Elgin, do you have any idea what is going on?" Iliana asked in exasperation as she slammed into the kitchen late the next morning.

  Elgin straightened from the pastry dough he was rolling out and raised his eyebrows at her question, nearly making Iliana laugh aloud. The man's apron and hat were impeccably clean, both items as pristine as they had been when he had donned them the night before. However, his face was smudged with at least three different cooking ingredients.

  Smiling slightly, she sank onto a stool beside his work table. She had awoken alone in bed again that morning. Apparently, Duncan had again carried her up to bed and undressed her. Embarrassed by that fact, she had dressed herself quickly and hurried below to join the household as they sat down to breakfast.

  It had taken Iliana several minutes to notice the tension in the room. Angus had been in a foul mood and surly to both Seonaid and Duncan, though he had managed a weak smile and "Good morn" for Iliana. But both Seonaid and Duncan had been in foul tempers and surly with everyone, including herself. Iliana had merely sighed over that. It had not been difficult for her to realize what was wrong with them.

  Angus had again insisted that Seonaid would learn lessons in proper behavior. She was to accompany Iliana throughout the day. Seonaid, understandably, was not happy about that.

  Duncan, on the other hand, was just plain surly. Iliana was becoming used to that. What had her thoroughly flummoxed was what was wrong with everyone else, for the Dunbar chief and his children were not the only ones whose moods were suffering today. It seemed as if everyone in the keep was angry. Even the women who worked in the garden with her...

  Iliana grimaced at the memory of her morning. She had planned on helping the women again today. Seonaid had quickly put paid to that. It seemed Angus had lectured everyone on his concern with her health, so Iliana had spent the morning overseeing the work in the garden and instructing Seonaid in the uses of herbs. Not a very satisfying task, since she had few samples to show her, and could only give her names of herbs and what they were useful for.

  Judging by the way the women had been hacking at the ground and snarling at each other, Iliana had decided that everyone was very definitely angry about something. She simply had no idea what it could be, so when Seonaid had excused herself to find the privy, Iliana had decided to take the opportunity to question Elgin.

  "I do not ken what ye mean, me lady."

  Shrugging, Iliana began to write her initials in the excess flour on the tabletop. "Everyone seems so unhappy today. The women are sniping and snarling at each other and..." She shrugged again helplessly.

  "Aaaah. Well, me lady, that would be because o' the plaids."

  Her head shot up at that. "What?"

  He nodded apologetically. "Ye see, the plaids usually come in January, the same day as the men usually bathe. Everyone bathes that day, and everyone dons their new plaid that day. But this time only the women have them. And meself. And only the women and meself bathed."

  When Iliana stared at him, Elgin shrugged. "The men stink."

  "The men--"

  "Stink," he repeated succinctly. "They also refuse to bathe and stop stinking. And last night when everyone went to their beds, most o' the husbands, impressed no doubt by how fine their wives looked and smelled, thought to...er...indulge themselves," he said meaningfully. "But the wives, impressed with how unfine the husbands looked and smelled down to the very last one, told their husbands to...er...go take a bath."

  "I see," Iliana said faintly, taken aback at the trouble she had started, despite the support the women had unknowingly given to her own silent protest.

  "Aye. There was fighting all over the keep last night."

  "I heard not a word."

  "Aye, well, most o' it was not fit fer a lady to hear anyway."

  "Mayhap I should just give the men their plaids?" Iliana murmured uncertainly.

  "'Tis not the plaids themselves that are the problem, me lady," he pointed out gently. "'Tis not as if they wear them when they--" Pausing, he flushed and shrugged.

  "Aye, you are right, of course." Sighing, she underlined her initials in the flour and stood, pausing when Elgin suddenly leaned forward to change the W she had written to a D.

  "Yer a Dunbar now, me lady," he reminded gently as she stared blankly at the letters on the tabletop--somewhat surprised that he could even read.

  "'Tis something me wife has difficulty recalling. I thank ye fer remindin' her, Elgin."

  Groaning inwardly, Iliana raised her head slowly to meet Duncan's furious gaze.

  "I'd be having a w
ord with ye, wife." His emphasis of the title was added with biting sarcasm.

  Avoiding Elgin's eyes, Iliana got reluctantly to her feet, mumbled her excuses, then moved to stand in front of Duncan. The minute she came to a halt, he grabbed her arm and turned to drag her out of the kitchen.

  Seonaid was crossing the great hall toward the kitchen door when they came through it. She looked once at Duncan's furious face, then raised an eyebrow in Iliana's direction.

  "Duncan wishes to talk to me. I won't be a minute," Iliana assured Seonaid as Duncan dragged her past the other woman.

  "She'll be quite a while," her husband corrected. "So ye might as well go about yer business."

  After a hesitation, Seonaid started to follow them, muttering, "She's supposed to be teaching me wifery. How long do ye plan to keep her?"

  "Long enough to teach her some wifery," was his grim response.

  "Nay, Duncan!" Seonaid cried in alarm. "Yer not to wear her out. Da said--"

  "Da can get his own wife," Duncan snarled, charging up the stairs, pulling Iliana behind him. She had time only to throw a vaguely reassuring smile at Seonaid before the great hall was out of sight and Duncan was opening the door to their room.

  "In." It was a silly order; he was already propelling her through the door and toward the bed as he spoke. But Iliana kept her thoughts to herself as she bounced onto the bed to the sound of the door being slammed shut.

  "Ye've done naught since arriving here but make a nuisance o' yersel'!" he shouted, crossing the room to loom over her. "Ye've disobeyed every order I've given ye. Wasted money on luxuries better done without! And refused me me rights as husband." He glared at her bitterly as he said that, then added, "If that were not bad enough, now ye have every wench in the clan pitted against her own man. What have ye to say fer yersel'?"

  Iliana sat up slowly on the bed, frantically searching her mind for the correct response. "I am sorry," she offered helplessly at last, and Duncan gaped at her.

  "Yer sorry?"

  "I'll give the men their plaids. They need not bathe."

  "That is yer answer? That will not put the women back in their beds."

  "Well..." She stared at him helplessly for a moment, then allowed her frustration to rouse her own temper. "Nay, you are right. It will not. No woman wishes to sleep with a stinking, filthy oaf of a man unless she herself stinks so bad she does not notice his stench." She glared at him, chin up. "'Tis understandable. It seems I am not so different from everyone else."

  "Are ye not? Well, I would be reminding ye we did not have this problem ere ye arrived."

  "That's because the women stunk then, too."

  He glared at her. "The men are all comin' to me, looking fer the answer. They wish to ken if I have the same problem with ye, and wha' I do about it."

  Iliana shrugged. "What did you tell them?"

  "I told them ye caused this problem and ye would fix it. Now..." He propped his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows. "What are ye going to do about it?"

  Iliana glared back, then shook her head in bewilderment. "I do not understand why you all do not simply take a bath. If you and the men would simply bathe--"

  "'Tis only the middle of June."

  "Aye, I know it is, but surely--"

  "We have a certain order here, wife. There is a certain time o' year that the sheep are sheared, a certain time o' year that the fields are reaped, and a certain time o' year that we take a bath."

  "Bathing is not a seasonal activity, husband. You could bathe anytime and not suffer for it. You could not harvest the fields at any time. They are two entirely different things."

  "Ye don't ken what I am saying--"

  "Aye, I do!" Iliana snapped, then sighed. "Seonaid explained to me about the plaids and how grease and dirt keep out the rain. She explained about oatcakes on marches. I understand that you fear the men going soft, but what of the women?"

  He blinked at that. "What?"

  "Are you not lord over all who reside here?"

  "My father--" he began, but Iliana cut him off with irritation.

  "Do not quote semantics at me, husband. Legally and technically 'tis true your father is laird here, but in reality you are the one to give the orders. I have seen it. Do you not rule over the women as well as the men?"

  "Aye."

  "Then why do you not concern yourself with the welfare of the women as well? 'Tis all well and fine that the men must brave the weather and make do with oatcakes while on marches, but what of the women?"

  When he merely frowned at her, Iliana sighed.

  "Could there not be a compromise? Could the men not have two plaids? One that is clean and pleasant to look upon while they are here at the keep with their wives, and one that is greased and dirty to protect them from the elements when away?"

  Duncan glared at her for the suggestion. "Things have worked well enough the way they have been for years, wife. There is no need fer--"

  "Who is the coward afraid of change now?" Iliana interrupted dryly. Then she rolled to the side of the bed, gained her feet and headed for the door, only to be caught up by Duncan as she moved past him.

  "I am not finished with ye yet."

  "But I am finished with you!" Iliana said coldly. Tugging her arm out of his hold when it slackened in surprise, she hurried to the door. She had it open and was rushing down the hall before he regained himself.

  "Wife!" he roared, starting after her.

  Muttering under her breath, Iliana grabbed up her skirt and raced down the stairs to the great hall, nearly colliding with her father-in-law in the process. Iliana paused long enough to give him a nervous smile and quick curtsy, then skirted around the man and hurried to the kitchen.

  "Duncan!"

  "Not now, Da!" Duncan snapped, maneuvering around the older man and sparing barely a moment to spear his sister with an accusatory glare before chasing after his wife.

  Iliana cast Elgin a nervous smile as she charged through the kitchen, intent on escaping to the gardens. Her steps didn't slow until she pushed through the door and came upon the women, chattering away in the garden as they worked. It seemed her absence had loosened their tongues. While they had been silent and grim all morning, now they were chattering away like magpies.

  "And then the smelly fool just stood there naked, bellowing like a sick cow."

  "What did ye do?" Janna gasped, seeming totally enthralled by the older woman's story.

  "I yelled right back. 'Ye'll not be touchin' me, Willie Dunbar!' I says to 'im. 'Not til ye take a bath!'"

  "What did he say?"

  "'Yer me wife, Mavis Dunbar, and ye'll be seeing to me needs or else. 'Tis yer duty.'"

  "Nay!" Janna clucked with disgust. "Sean said the very same thing to me! I'd like to have brained 'im."

  "I did brain Willie."

  Janna gaped at the older woman in disbelief. "Nay! Ye dinna! What did he do then?"

  "Slept the night through with nary another peep out o' him."

  Her jaw dropped at that. "What did he do when he woke this morn?"

  "Naught. I told him he'd too much to drink last night and passed out drunk on the floor."

  "Ye didna! Oh, Mavis, yer awful." She shook with laughter. "I could never brain Sean."

  "Aye, well, yer Sean's a different kettle o' fish than me Willie. He'd never raise a fist to ye."

  "Nay, he wouldn't," Janna agreed solemnly, sadness on her face as she peered at the older woman. "Why do ye not tell Duncan about Willie, Mavis? He'd tend to him fer ye."

  "I told ye, Janna, Duncan cares little if we women are happy, so long as the men have no complaint and will follow him off to battle."

  Janna opened her mouth to respond, then froze, catching sight of Iliana. Fear crossed the woman's features, and Iliana opened her mouth to quickly reassure her that all would be well. But before she could, the scuff of a footfall drew her gaze around to see Duncan standing behind her. The shock on his face told Iliana that he had heard the whole conversation. S
he actually managed to feel sorry for him. Then his face closed up and he whirled away, rage oozing from every pore of his body as he headed back the way he had come.

  "Oh, lord."

  Biting her lip, Iliana glanced back at a worried-looking Mavis and tried to offer a reassuring smile. "He is not mad at you, Mavis. There is nothing to fear."

  "Aye," Janna agreed, sighing. "'Tis my guess it's Willie who should be worrying."

  Iliana's eyes widened at that; then she muttered under her breath and hurried after her husband, aware that the women were dropping their hoes to follow.

  Chapter Eleven

  Duncan had already exited the kitchen by the time she reached it. Rushing past a startled Elgin, Iliana hurried to the door that still swung slightly from her husband's exit and pushed through into the great hall. She was just in time to catch a glimpse of his stiff form as, ignoring his father's startled questions, he slammed out of the keep.

  "What the devil?" Angus stared after his son with astonishment, then glanced toward Seonaid, who only shrugged in bewilderment. Duncan had looked furious. The swish of the kitchen door opening caught his ear and brought him around in time to step out of the way as Iliana charged by in pursuit of her husband.

  "Lass! What--" he began, but she was already charging out of the keep.

  "What the devil," Angus repeated and took a step after her, only to pause when several women crashed through the kitchen door and raced across the room with Elgin hard on their heels. Catching the roly-poly little man, Angus drew him to an abrupt halt, demanding, "What goes on here?"

  Elgin shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't ken, me laird. First they rushed one way, now they rush another. But judging from everyone's expressions, 'tis not something to be missed." With that, he hurried on.

  Muttering under his breath, Angus took up the tail end of this odd parade, gesturing for Seonaid to follow.

  Grabbing up her skirts, Iliana sped after her husband as he charged toward the men working on the wall. Her steps slowed, and dismay made an O of her mouth a moment later when Duncan reached them, grabbed a tall burly fellow by the scruff of his neck, and tossed him to the ground.

  The man was up at once, ready to defend himself. But he lowered his fists in confusion when he saw through his rage that his assailant was Duncan.