Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

B ernard was intrigued by the young mistress of the castle. She seemed to be somewhat arrogant and definitely unafraid to stand up for herself, but he sensed a gentler side to her that she kept hidden. He could tell by the way the servants spoke and acted around her that they admired and even loved her.

This was borne out when he went to the stables to collect his horse for a ride into the village of Howdenbrae. William was bathing and dressing for the feast, which he was not relishing in the slightest.

"Are you sure you would not like to change places?" he asked desperately, as a manservant poured warm water into his bath. "There will be dozens of desirable young ladies there."

Bernard shook his head and laughed. "They will still be there whether I go or not," he pointed out. He would not admit to his friend that there was only one woman who interested him, and that was Janice. "None of those ladies would be interested in being wooed by a guard."

William sank into the water and gave his friend a cynical look. "That is not true," he said enviously. "You know that they would be falling at your feet."

"My feet will not be there," Bernard laughed as he opened the door. "Enjoy yourself, my friend."

William growled and threw his sponge at the door.

Bernard had decided that no one would miss him if he were late for the servants' dinner, so he decided to try out the village tavern. Accordingly, he went to fetch his horse, Jason. Upon arriving at the stables, he heard the sound of a woman's helpless laughter and the giggling of at least two children. Curious, he went into the stable courtyard to see Janice lying on the floor being tickled mercilessly by two of the servants' children. The two young girls, who looked to be about seven years old, were crouching beside her, taking no notice at all of her fine evening dress, which was becoming more and more crumpled by the second.

"My dress!" Janice cried, through tears of laughter. "You are going to ruin it!"

"A penny each an' we will stop!" cried the darker of the two, a little imp with mischievous blue eyes.

"Aye!" the other one, a little girl with curly red hair, chipped in, nodding as she held her hands up, ready to inflict more torture.

"I surrender!" Janice cried, then lay back, limp, on the floor, while the two little girls danced around her, laughing triumphantly.

Bernard was enchanted. Here was a woman who practically ran a huge estate on her own, who could likely have any man she wanted, who was intelligent and beautiful, rolling around on the floor with two children.

He burst out laughing, startling the children into silence. When they looked up, their eyes were wide with fright and fear. Not only had the noise sounded like a deep drumbeat, but they had never seen such a big man in their lives. They stared at him for a moment before Janice scrambled to her feet and took each of their hands.

"Who is that?" the little dark-haired girl asked fearfully. The other one said nothing but swallowed nervously.

"This is Master Taggart," Janice replied, smiling soothingly. "He is very tall, is he not?"

"How did he become sae tall?" asked the redhead, looking at him in open amazement.

"He ate all his food and never left anything on his plate," Janice replied, then she looked up at him and smiled. "Master Taggart, please say hello to two of my very best friends. This"—she pointed to the dark-haired girl—"is Ailsa. This is Flora." She indicated the little redhead. "These two help me when I need a bouquet. They go and pick flowers for me, and they help me choose my perfume when I am going to a ceilidh. They work very hard, do you not, ladies?"

"Aye," they said in unison, still not taking their eyes off Bernard.

"What a wonderful job," Bernard observed, kneeling down in front of them. The girls were still hesitant, but when he smiled at him, they giggled shyly. " I have to go now, but I will see you both later, I am sure."

He picked up one of each of their hands and kissed their knuckles, then stood up, bowed, and went to fetch his horse, leaving the two little girls to stare after him in awe.

They watched as he rode his black stallion out of the stables, smiling and waving as he went past. Janice watched him longingly. The notion of going with him was very appealing since she was facing the prospect of an evening of enduring the embarrassing antics of her brothers. She could only imagine the depths of stupidity they would plunge to when they had an audience.

She looked down at her dress and smiled ruefully. It was crumpled and dusty, and Janice did not exactly smell of roses!

"Can we get ye more perfume, mistress?" Flora asked, trying not to giggle.

"Maybe if I give you sixpence each, you can be my lady's maids and find me a new dress?" Janice suggested.

Her offer was met with much enthusiasm.

"How many dresses have ye got, mistress?" Ailsa asked.

"Hundreds!" Janice replied as they ran up to her bedchamber, giggling.

The tavern in Howdenbrae was called the White Bull, and it consisted of nothing more than a large shed with a thatched roof that looked as though it might need repair soon. Inside, however, there was a warm wood fire, a counter where drinks were served, and a number of rough wooden tables and chairs.

Some of the local workmen were already drinking, even though it was only late afternoon, but Bernard reminded himself that he was one of them, despite the fact that he had spent much of his life in a more elevated company. As he looked at the weathered faces of the workmen, he felt warm contentment. These were his people.

The notion of eating an evening meal and drinking anything but ale with it was utterly foreign to these people. Whisky was expensive and out of the reach of ordinary working people, and most had never tasted wine in their lives.

Bernard walked up to the bar and smiled at the plump, middle-aged woman who was working there. She was washing and drying a clay goblet, and she looked surprised but pleased to see the tall stranger walking into her establishment.

"What can I get ye, stranger?" she asked politely.

"A pint of your best ale, please," he replied, smiling. "I have heard it is the best in the district."

She poured a cup out for him from a pitcher, and he sipped it cautiously. He had received many a sour pint of beer in countryside taverns, but this one had the full, nutty flavor that he loved, and he said so.

"Mmm…wonderful!" he said happily, smacking his lips.

"Thank ye, stranger," she replied, beaming back at him. "Can I ask yer name? I am Queenie McBride, the landlady here, an' ye are vera welcome."

"I am Bernard Taggart," he replied, looking around him as he sipped his ale.

"Are ye stayin' at the castle?" one of his fellow patrons asked.

"I am," Bernard replied. "I am one of Laird Ballantine's men."

"Ye dinnae sound like somebody that would drink in a place like this," the man said doubtfully, looking around at the others, who nodded in agreement.

"I had a good education," Bernard explained. "But I am only a guard—one of you. I wanted to ask about Mistress Stewart."

"Why?" one of the men asked suspiciously. "I am warnin' ye, pal, if ye mean any harm tae that lassie, ye will have tae get past us first."

The expression on his elderly face was thunderous, and Bernard was astonished, especially when some of the other men got to their feet and began to voice their agreement. It seemed that Janice was held in very high regard by everyone inside and outside the castle, and he wondered why.

"I have no intention of doing her any harm," he assured them. "I have met her, and she seems like a very pleasant lady, and it seems that she is held in high regard by everyone around here, and I wondered why. It seems strange that a laird's daughter should be so well-regarded when most ordinary folks despise lairds' families."

"Let me tell ye," Queenie said firmly, leaning on the counter, "it is because she is vera kind. After the feast taeday, there will be extra food; there always is on high days an' holidays. We dinnae have tae ask for anything because we know that she will send down a' that food tae us after the house staff gets their share, of course. She never forgets anybody."

"An' there are always warm clothes for the weans in the winter," another man assured him. "Three years ago, when that almighty storm came, she opened a wing o' the castle for us, fed us, an' kept us warm until we could go back tae our homes. We know as long as Mistress Janice is about, we will no' starve. An' I think we can a' agree that we would likely be much worse off without her. In fact, some o' us wouldnae be here."

"But she will never be the laird," Bernard pointed out. "Her brothers are fighting it out for that honor."

There was a collective noise of groans, growls, and derisive snorts.

"Them two!" Jim Elliott, the man who had been the main voice for the others, spoke up. "They are a waste o' good air. Tell the man, Queenie."

Queenie leaned on the bar and sighed. "Jim is right, Bernard. Those two lazy so-an'-so's come in here every Saturday night an' drink themselves under the table. They show off an' dance on the tables an' think they are doin' us a favor by comin' here. But they bring a couple o' pals wi' them, an' they spend a lot o' money, an' that is why I dinnae turn them away. But I cannae stand them. When that father o' theirs dies an' the estate goes tae one o' them, God help us. I dinnae know what will become o' the place."

Bernard was shocked. He had known that the guards at the castle despised the brothers but had no idea that the bad feeling had spread to the village too.

"Perhaps they will employ a steward," he remarked, looking around at their angry faces.

"They have got one already," Queenie stated. "Mistress Janice does most o' the work organizin' the estate, but she will nay doubt have tae marry soon, an' lassies like her dinnae come along every day. This idea that only men can be lairds is just plain stupid."

"I agree with you," Bernard concurred, nodding, "but maybe she will stay. It seems as though she cares a lot about all of you." There was a murmur of agreement.

"Aye, son," Queenie said sadly, "but she has a life o' her own. Maybe she will meet a nice young man an' have bairns o' her own. Who are we tae stop her?" She shrugged, then smiled at him. "Tell us about yerself. We dinnae see new faces around here vera often, an' especially no' fine big lads like ye."

Bernard laughed. "I come from a tall family," he admitted. "Both Mammy and Da. Mammy is still alive, but Da was killed in an accident. I was only two at the time so I don't really remember him. The laird of Benlieth has a son, William, and we more or less grew up together. My mother is the cook there—she has been for thirty years—and Lady Ballantine and my mother were with child at more or less the same time. I am three months older than William.

"The laird thought I would be a good playmate for his son. William and I were educated together, so I learned to speak, well, like this." He pointed to his mouth with a little embarrassed laugh.

"Are ye still friends?" Queenie asked curiously.

"Yes, but as you can imagine, there are still places I cannot go." He laughed suddenly. "One of them is the feast tonight. Not that I mind. It is not the kind of party I would enjoy since all those ‘people of quality' would be looking down on me."

"No, son," Queenie remarked drily, admiring Bernard's height. "They will a' be lookin' up at ye!"

There was a chorus of laughter at that. Bernard was suddenly struck by the landlady's unusual name. "I have never heard a name like yours before," he remarked. "How did you come by it?"

Queenie cast her eyes heavenward and sighed. "My mother was very fond o' the story o' Mary Queen o' Scots," she answered. "So she called me after her."

"Why not just ‘Mary' then?" Bernard asked curiously.

"That is my middle name," the unfortunate woman replied. "Ye can laugh now if ye like."

So, having been given permission, he did, and the deep booming sound echoed around the room, setting everyone else off, so that in a moment they were all laughing, Queenie included. Bernard was enjoying himself thoroughly. He could not remember the last time he had had so much fun.

Presently, some more customers came into the tavern, including one or two young ladies who could not keep their eyes off Bernard. They flirted with him outrageously until Queenie shooed them away.

"Gie the lad a rest, ye lot!" she ordered, then laughed. "Ye will get nae peace now, Bernard," she warned.

"I have to go anyway," he said at last. "I don't want to be riding home in the dark." He dropped a few coins on the counter and made ready to leave.

"Come back soon, Bernard," Queenie invited, smiling at him warmly. "We want tae hear all about the goin's on up at the big hoose!" She jerked her thumb in the general direction of the castle.

"I will," he replied. "Thank you for a very pleasant evening."

"Be careful o' those lassies," Jim Elliott warned, grinning. "They could eat a man alive."

Bernard laughed, waved, and went out.

"Fine manners," Queenie remarked, smiling.

"Fine everythin'! " said one of the young women, her eyes wide with admiration.