“Well, m’lady, stronger men than ye have tried to get those boys in line. I wish ye all the luck in the world.”
“Well, I be not a man,” Aeschene told him cheekily. “But I do believe I am up to the challenge.”
Gylmyne chuckled loudly as he smacked his thigh. “Aye, I do believe ye are goin’ to give our laird a time of it.”
Aeschene wasn’t certain what he meant by that, but he didn’t give her a chance to ask for an explanation.
“I think I like ye, lass.”
She beamed a bright smile and thanked him. “I think I like ye as well, Gylmyne. Now, have ye any work these two lads can do for ye?”
“Aye, I had heard the lads were offerin’ to help the others fix up their cottages,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “‘Twould be right nice if the lads could weed my garden. It gets harder and harder for me to do with me bones and joints painin’ me all the time.”
Aeschene was delighted to hear he was willing to give the boys a chance.
As was becoming habit - very old and wearisome habit - Aeschene once again awoke to an empty bed. Richard was gone. It had been this way for since their first night together.
Although she truly enjoyed joining with him, she was beginning to grow terribly weary of waking up all by herself. She had a vague recollection of him leaving their bed last night, but she had assumed ’twas only to answer nature’s call.
Yawning, she stretched her arms out, the action causing her a bit of discomfort along her chest. Carefully, she touched the skin. It felt bruised and irritated. That was undoubtedly due to the fact that he still refused to remove his tunic during their love-making. The leather ties had scraped and bruised her tender skin, right in the middle of her chest.
For a long while, she lay their debating on whether or not she should complain to her husband about the discomfort his tunic was causing. Nay, she worried, chewing on her bottom lip. He may refuse to join with ye again. That was the last thing she wanted.
’Twas still her fervent hope that eventually Richard would open up to her and that he would feel safe from his worry over what she would think of his scars. She didn’t give one whit about them. The scars were simply apart of who he was and he had earned each and every one of them.
Mayhap if ye showed him yer own scars, he might feel better about things. Deciding that was a most excellent idea - pointing out her own imperfections so that he wouldn’t feel quite so badly about his own - she tossed the covers aside and climbed down from the bed.
Thankfully, Richard had left her robe at the end of the bed. She stuffed her arms into the sleeves and tied it shut. Even though ’twas made from the softest of wools, the material irritated her chest so much so that she was forced to leave the robe gaping open.
Richard had been kind enough this morn not to leave anything scattered on the floor that she could trip over. She made a mental note to thank him later for his kindness.
Mayhap some praise and thanks would be another way to show him he could trust her. “Aye,” she told herself. “Praise and thanks will go a long way, I think.”
She tended to her morning ablutions, washed her face and teeth in the frigid water. The afternoon before, Marisse had been kind enough to leave a fresh chemise and Aeschene’s dark blue gown hanging on a peg. As soon as the fabric of the chemise touched her chest, she winced. Pushing the discomfort aside, she pulled on the dark blue gown and tied the laces, a bit looser than she would have preferred. She sat on the small bench next to the washing table, pulled on warm woolens and her boots.
Moments later, she was knocking on Marisse’s door.
Marisse was already up and dressed when she answered Aeschene’s gentle rap. Teasing her friend, Aeschene said, “I have not had to drag ye out of bed once since our arrival. Ye were never up this early before.”
“Things be different here,” Marisse told her as she led her to sit by the fire. “I have reasons to get up early now. Before, I wanted to sleep all the day away simply because I was bored out of my mind.”
“Well thank ye kindly, Marisse, for letting me know just how borin’ my company was,” Aeschene said, feigning insult.
Marisse saw right through her friend’s pretended wounded feelings. “Ye were not better than I,” she reminded her. “But there was not much else to do there. Here, everythin’ is different. We are not locked away.”
“And for that alone, I am ever grateful,” she said. Absentmindedly, she rubbed at her chest.
“We best get below stairs,” Marisse said as she grabbed her shawl. “I am eager to see if Colyne and Raibeart are still excited to be workin’.”
Aeschene smiled brightly. “I will wager ye they are,” she told her as they walked out into the hallway. “They are eager to prove to Richard they are mature enough to begin their trainin’.”
Marisse had to agree. “Take the loops,” she said as the reached the top of the stairs.
On the way down, Aeschene continued to compliment Colyne and Raibeart. “They be good lads. Just a wee inquisitive and wantin’ a grand adventure.” She did not see Richard, Lachlan, and Rory were already at the table breaking their fasts.
“I have to agree,” Marisse said, nodding to the men.
“Betimes, they remind me of my brothers at that age,” Aeschene said.
The room grew deathly quiet. Food paused in midair as the three men at the table glowered at Aeschene’s last statement.
“What did ye say?” Richard bit out, turning around in his seat to face his wife.
“Och!” she exclaimed. “I dinnae ken ye were here. Good morn to ye.”
Richard set his knife down and stood. “I asked ye what ye said.”
For the life of her, she did not know why he sounded so angry. “We were just talkin’ about what good lads Colyne and Raibeart are,” she told him.
“And ye compared them to yer brothers,” Richard growled. “They be nothin’ like yer brothers.”
Aeschene furrowed her brow. Marisse stood beside her looking just as confused.
“I only meant that Colyne and Raibeart be inquisitive lads, ready for adventure.”
“Like yer brothers,” Richard said with a good deal of disgust.
“Aye, like me brothers,” Aeschene said, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin. “Like most lads are at that age.”
“I would thank ye kindly if ye did not compare my brothers to yers,” he told her. “They could not be more different.”
She understood then, why he had taken offense. “Ye cannae compare who my brothers are now to what they were like as young lads.”
“I suppose ye will tell me they were good and proper lads?” Richard scoffed openly.
“Nay, they were by no means perfect,” she replied stiffly. “But they were at one time, just little boys.”
Richard shook his head in dismay. “Still, ye cannae compare them. While my younger brothers can be hellions on good days -”
“They will never be the rude, obnoxious brutes my brothers are?” Aeschene finished his sentence for him.
Richard fumed quietly, fully prepared to demand she never compare the two again.