Wedgewick Woman Read Online Free Page B

that a promise given was a promise kept, James reasoned.  Hoped.
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
    Chapter 6
     
    The household reverted back to its routine shortly after the incident.  The entire staff had now come to acceptable terms with a certain Mr. James Sinclair, who, to his credit, worked tirelessly to repay all that he’d taken.
    Even Mrs. Calvert was pleased, for James now took his meals with the staff in the kitchen and didn’t seem a bad sort of fellow. Lord Carmichael noticed a new apron or hat upon the kitchen help’s head now and again, a sign that they were no longer fearful for their positions and had a few extra pence to spend for frivolities.
    With all the new building soon to begin on the lands he received as dowry from his most unfortunate marriage, there was plenty yet to be done.
    “Sir shall I send word to bring your mount?  The people of Bothwell have awaited your visit for many months.”
    “Aye.” Blithers was off to find Ross, the Laird’s Chief Commander.
    “Blithers,” the Laird’s voice echoed off the stone walls of the castle. “We’ve forgotten the assembly of the builders.  They await us now in the North wing.”
    “Indeed we have…I have forgotten…your lordship.” He turned red-faced.
    Lord Carmichael instantly regretted his words, for it was he who had forgotten, not Blithers.  He raised his hand and shouted ,  “It is I who did not remember.  Send Sean McBenson in my stead.  He’s well to be trusted and a builder better than I.  Make certain he reports back to me and send my apologies for having called on him so late.” 
    “I shall see to it.”  Blithers hurried away.
    “Aye, but I’m dastardly tardy for my other meeting with the people of Bothwell and I abhor tardiness.”  The Laird hurried to the kitchen to call the other servants into service. “Begin the packing of the cart.  Fresh cheese this time, if you please.” He thundered, effectively correcting a foolish lass’ error in sending moldy cheese last time. The kitchen staff hurried to the business of seeing to their Laird’s provisions for the journey.
    In moments he’d dashed through the hallways and into the courtyard where he mounted Knight, his black stallion.  Followed by The Four, his trusted first guards and a small company, they rode through the stone gates and over the bridge toward Greenoche to the North.
    Nearly two hours into the journey, Fergus, one of The Four, rode forward at breakneck speed and pulled his mount to a stop, “Lord, Duncan MacDougal is having conniptions.” 
    Lord Carmichael turned from his thoughts and leveled his gaze at the red-faced, enormously muscled man and nearly laughed.  “Take him to the physician, then.”
    “He’s…he’s swallowing his tongue, sir and the physician says he’ll die without help from the surgeon.”  Fergus’ wide blue eyes stared out from his full red-bearded face, his thick head of blonde hair awry and his enormous size gave the Laird pause. The huge man whose main desire was to cross swords in a first-rate battle, looked rather ill himself; the Laird could not keep his lips from turning up slightly.
    “Ye are smiling?” he nearly shouted, forgetting himself.
    “Not at poor MacDougal’s concerns, but at your face, Fergus.”
    A proud and angry look replaced the fear in Fergus’ face, for he did not wish to be known as he truly was and that was squeamish at the sight of any man’s pain, even though he was an excellent warrior.
    “See that MacDougal is taken back to the castle.” Lord Carmichael said sternly and galloped to the lead.
    “He laughs at my weakness.” Fergus said under breath and knew his face burned red as fire.
    When the sun began to set over the mountains, Lord Carmichael called for camp.  “We’re near the Campbells’ road and we dare not pass at this late hour, for I’m certain we will be put upon by the wild men.”  He announced.  “We’ll water the horses at the river and travel past