She had him there. If Eveline was happy and content, then what was there for him to say on the matter? It didn’t sit well with him that she felt she had to dirty her hands to gain the approval of the other women, but perhaps she was wiser than he.
He didn’t try to understand the workings of a woman’s mind. ’Twas a sure way for a man to remain permanently perplexed. And if Nora had indeed taken Eveline under her wing, it would bode well for her acceptance by the other women, because Nora was well thought of in the clan and her leadership role over the other women was well established.
“All right,” he conceded. “I’ll not step in or interfere in the matter. But I want you to watch closely, Rorie. If anything arises that I should know of, I expect you to bring it to my attention immediately.”
Rorie nodded her agreement.
“See that she has something to eat when she awakens. I’ll be taking a group of men hunting and won’t return until late.”
CHAPTER 29
Eveline was horrified when she awoke pressed soundly against Graeme’s body. It was obvious it was long past the sleeping hour and that she’d slept right through the rest of the afternoon and beyond the evening meal.
Her husband was sound asleep in their bed and his arms were wrapped tightly around her so that her body was perfectly aligned with his.
For a moment she sighed and hovered in that delicious state between sleep and wakefulness. It was likely close to the hour when the keep would start to come awake and begin the new day, but she was loath to move from her warm spot in her husband’s arms.
But she remembered Nora speaking the day before on when the women of the keep rose to make sure fires were set in the chambers and also the great hall, so that the chill would be taken from the rooms when the warriors began their day.
Regretfully, she eased from the warmth of her bed and quietly added wood to the hearth. There were no coals from the night before, so she had to use one of the half burned candles to add flame to wood.
Once a crackling blaze had begun and she was satisfied that her husband would wake to a fine fire, she smoothed the wrinkles from the dress she’d donned the evening before. Then she quickly pulled the rest of her hair around to braid it.
When she’d finished, she went below stairs in search of Nora or the other women. Stifling her yawn, she went into the kitchens to find Mary lighting a fire in the great hearth she used for cooking.
Eveline didn’t miss the surprise in Mary’s eyes when she looked up and saw Eveline. But it was quickly masked and she directed Eveline to set about the task of lighting a fire in the two hearths in the hall.
What she didn’t bother telling Eveline was how she was to bring the wood in for such a task. The fireplaces were huge and the logs they used were much larger than in the smaller hearths in the chambers.
Not about to let an insignificant detail such as that prevent her from performing her task, she went outside, shivering as she glanced at the predawn sky that was just starting to lighten ever so slightly in the east.
Her breath came out in a visible puff and the air felt damp and cold on her face.
As suspected, she found a large woodpile where larger logs were stacked against the back wall of the keep, just outside the door that exited the kitchen.
She managed to wrest one of the logs from its perch, and it tumbled to the ground at her feet. She pushed it upright and after realizing there was no way she could lift it, she set about rolling it on its edge.
When she arrived at the stone steps leading back into the keep, she frowned and stared at the log she held upright.
One step at a time. She didn’t have to lift it for long. Just enough to lug it up each step in turn until she reached the top.
Huffing from exertion, she strained to lift the log just enough that she could slide it onto the first step. For several moments she stood there huffing with exertion, and then she braced herself to pick it up to the next step. By the time she managed to make it to the top step, she’d been working for several minutes.
She propped it on the top step, leaning heavily on it as she eyed the stack of logs behind her. How would she ever manage to bring in enough to lay both fires in the hall by the time the men started trickling down to break their fast?
Well, she certainly wasn’t going to manage the task standing here whimpering about it, that much was certain.
Determined not to be made a fool of, she rolled the log toward the hearth, eased it down to the floor, and then went back for another.
After four more trips, she had enough wood to start the first fire. She was so exhausted and weary that her hands shook as she went to maneuver the wood into the pit. She had the first situated and was about to duck back for the next when a hand tapped her on the shoulder.
Startled, she reared back and took in the horrified expression of one of the younger soldiers. He looked so appalled that she frowned, not understanding what it was she’d done wrong.
“My lady, ’tis my duty to set the logs each morn. ’Tis no job for a lass of your size. Please, allow me to finish. I would not displease the laird by having his wife do such an arduous task. Your hands, my lady. They’re bleeding. Please go have one of the women tend to them.”
She glanced down in bewilderment to see that her hands were torn and bleeding from her struggle with the wood. Perhaps she’d misunderstood Mary, or she’d simply read the wrong words from her lips. She’d thought that it was her task to set the fires, but she was fiercely glad that she wouldn’t have to wrestle more wood into the hall. Her back ached horribly, and now that he’d drawn attention to her hands, they were starting to sting.