"I will wear this gown to sup, Rosamunde." Brenna pointed to a delicate lavender gown of satin, with bodice and sleeves encrusted with pearls.
"It is beautiful, my lady." With a minimum of words Rosamunde set about ordering one serving girl to prepare a bath while the other set out the gown and layers of petticoats. There were stockings, matching kid slippers and even pearl- encrusted ribbons for her hair.
"How do you magically come up with these beautiful clothes, Rosamunde?
In the weeks I have been here, you have surprised me with a new gown each day. "
The girl put a hand to her mouth and gave a shy laugh.
"There is no magic. My lord Grey has instructed the seamstresses to provide whatever you request."
"Which Lord Grey? Richard or Morgan?"
"Lord Morgan Grey, my lady."
Again Brenna felt the familiar ripple of pleasure at the maid's words and wondered about it. Why should a simple kindness from Morgan cause her such joy?
"And since you are too much of a lady to ask for anything," Rosamunde continued, "I do it for you."
Brenna laughed.
"I have no need of all these clothes. A simple morning gown is enough."
"My lady, you spend far too much time lately overseeing the scullery and kitchen, and not nearly enough time worrying about your wardrobe.
A fine lady should not bother with such mundane things as the household supplies. Soon you will be the wife of a wealthy nobleman, and you will no longer need to concern yourself with Greystone Abbey. "
Her words caused a surprising ache in Brenna. She forced herself to hide the pain. Why should she care about this faded old manor and the people who dwelled here? Were they not, after all, hated English?
"" I have seen the fine work Mistress Leems does. But she is overburdened in the refectory and seems glad of my assistance. "
"Aye, Mistress Leems has told everyone of your gracious help."
Brenna brushed aside her compliment.
"I welcome the opportunity to have something to do. It passes the time."
Rosamunde tied the last ribbon in Brenna's hair, then gave a nod of satisfaction. Shooing the other servants from the room, she scooped up Brenna's discarded clothing and prepared to take her leave.
Touching her arm, Brenna stopped her.
"Since leaving Scotland I have thought often about my old nurse, Morna, who has been with me for a lifetime. Despite failing eyesight and gnarled old hands, she is truly a treasure. As, it seems, are you."
For a moment the servant seemed overcome. In all the years that she had been in service, she had never before been thanked for her work.
The wealthy were accustomed to pampering. They took it for granted that it was their due.
"I would be your friend as well, my lady," she murmured.
"I am most grateful. I can use a friend."
Both women looked up at the sound of footsteps. Rosamunde opened the door, then bowed her way from the room. Morgan stood in the doorway, his gaze fastened on the vision before him in lavender satin.
"It would seem that the seamstresses from the village have earned their pay."
She felt the warmth rush to her cheeks at his compliment.
"You are too generous." Brenna crossed the room and accepted his outstretched hand.
She steeled herself for the jolt that always came at his touch.
"I have no need of such fine gowns."
"Since it is my fault that you have no wardrobe, it is my responsibility to provide one that befits my guest."
He placed a hand over hers and led her down the stairs.
"Mistress Leems has been crowing about your skill with the household.
She says it is at your direction that the heavy draperies at the windows have been taken down, thus allowing the sunlight to touch even the darkest corners of this old house."
"I hope you do not mind. I thought perhaps Richard could see more clearly with the windows free of clutter. He spends so much time there looking at the world outside these walls."
"I am most grateful, my lady."
Morgan studied the gleaming hallway floors as they made their way to the refectory. Inside, the darkened walls had been scrubbed until they shone. The scarred wooden tables were freshly polished. The dark draperies had been removed, allowing sunlight to play over the spotless marble floors. The chimneys had been swept, allowing the smoke to escape instead of filling the room. Everywhere he looked, it was as if Greystone Abbey had awakened from a deep slumber. The servants whispered about the lady who worked alongside them, polishing everything until it gleamed. She would be considered a harsh taskmaster, except for the fact that she did not order anything done that she would not do herself.
"Did you oversee your home in Scotland with such care, my lady?"
"Aye." She felt a fleeting pang at the thought of her home.
"My sisters, alas, detested woman's work, preferring to practice the use of weapons with our father's men."
"I seem to recall that you showed no lack of skill with a knife, my lady." He touched a hand to the scar at his chest, causing Brenna to blush. "Aye. And given a sword I could best many of your soldiers, my lord.
"Twas as much a part of our training as baking bread or sewing a fine seam."
"Beware, brother. A potent combination." Richard, seated in his chair at the table, looked up at their arrival. "
"A woman who can cook, sew and wield a sword. Your chances for betrothal grow more numerous with each passing day, my lady."
Brenna felt the heat on her cheeks and ducked her head, missing the scowl on Morgan's face. But it was not lost on his' brother So. Morgan was not as eager for the lady to be taken off his hands as he claimed.
Richard decided to pay a little more attention to Morgan and Brenna while they supped. He enjoyed nothing as much as a chance to tweak his obstinate brother's nose.
When Morgan's men were seated the servants entered the dining hall bearing steaming trays of venison, pheasant and partridge, as well as baskets of bread warm from the ovens.
Richard and Morgan filled their plates, then began to eat in their usual lusty manner. Brenna picked at her food and watched as the men devoured everything and signaled to the servants for more.
"What have you done to this venison?" Morgan asked the housekeeper.