––––––––
“No means no, Kenna. You won’t be leaving. Not at any cost.” Macdonald stuck his finger in the end of his pipe, tamping down the burnt tobacco and taking another puff. “I’m to be your husband, and you’ll obey me. I don’t care what sort of wild blood you’ve got flowing through your veins, you’ll bow to my will or feel the back of my hand until you do.”
Kenna balled her fists and squeezed until her fingernails dug into her palms. Her jaws clenched so hard that her whole body trembled as she looked at her bridegroom with his hands draped casually across his belly, leaned back in his chair.
“No. It’s not happening. And if you try to talk anyone into helping you, I’ll know about it. They’re all under my thumb, same as you.”
“If you mean to keep me as a prisoner, why are you even bothering to marry me? Why not just chain me up and keep me in your cellar?” As soon as she spoke, she clamped her hand over her mouth. “I didn’t mean to let that out.”
“Kenna,” he said, “I think somewhere in you, there’s a good girl trying to come out. I like your father, and so I took you in. I’ll not do him the dishonor of sending you back, but if you keep this up, I may well considering chaining you up in the basement and letting Alan do whatever comes to his filthy mind.”
“Why are you threatening me? What have I done to you?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Not yet anyway. And I mean to keep it that way. A man can’t threaten his wife. He can only tell her how to improve in her womanly duties.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kenna said.
“Well you are to be my wife, yes?” A smile played across his lips. “You’ve to be trained. You know nothing of mending clothes, or teething babies. Your knowledge of cattle and sheep will do you no good here.”
“But-”
“No, I’m not interested in temper tantrums. As you can see from the quill that I’m holding, I’m writing something. When I’m writing something, dear, that means I’m busy. And when I’m busy, I don’t want to be disturbed. Especially not when I’m writing something that brings me so much joy as this.”
“What is it? A bill to someone who can’t pay it?” Kenna bit her lip again, but too late.
“Oh no, not at all. I suppose it is a bill of sorts, but not to any renters. No, no, this is a bill for damage done to my estate.”
Kenna’s throat cinched up tight.
“You found the men who did the damage, then? So there’s no need for us to be wed straight away?”
“Of course they were found. No one does anything as unabashed as that and gets away with it. No one I know, at any rate. To shoot a hole in my roof and steal from the pocket of your superior, that’s one thing. But, kissing my bride at her wedding party?” Macdonald made three sinister clicking sounds with his tongue. “But that doesn’t matter now because I’ve just signed the bastard’s death warrant.”
Kenna stared at him, her jaw half open, eyes slacked and chin sunk into her neck.
“Is something the matter? Why would you care about the execution of some ragamuffin street tough? Wait right there. You are upset, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”
“I...no! I’m not upset. Of course not. He was just some riffraff who passed for a noble who invaded your home. Our home,” she said.
Ramsay Macdonald scribbled something on his little paper and then looked back up at Kenna.
“Why are you still here? Go on, I’m sure you’ve got more things to do for the wedding, which is still on, by the way. Five days now. Scurry on, little mouse, scurry back to your den.”
He looked down, brushed his hand across what he was writing, and blew over it, then smiled. “Go!”
After she came down from the rafters at his shouting, Kenna slipped silently out of the room, then trekked back to the stairs, dutifully returning to her room as she was told when she had another thought.
She looked left, and then right, but saw no one. The servants were all busy clattering away in the kitchen, except for the three of them still picking up from Macdonald’s incredibly large luncheon. Kenna took a step toward the front door, expecting something to stop her, but then she took another.
Three steps later, her hand was on the door latch, and Kenna could hardly believe how lucky she was. What seemed impossible a moment past was now about to happen. She tugged on the latch, and much to her surprise, it turned easily.
“Good day to you, Miss Kenna. Going out for a walk?” Lachlam, one of the servants who worked in the grounds and lived nearby, said as he pushed open the door and Kenna bumped into him. “Careful of the grass in that dress of yours, it’s freshly hewn, so it could color your fringe green.”
“No, I’m well, maybe – yes. I’m going for a walk,” she said. “What is the best way to walk?”
“Oh I suppose the rose garden is rather nice, you can see that from your window. That’s where I spend a good deal of my time. Something about the flowers is relaxing. Especially this time of year, when the weather is cool but not cold and not yet humid.” Lachlam patted Kenna on the shoulder, smiled, and began to whistle as he strode off.
“Right, thanks!” Kenna called after him a moment later.
Again she went to the door, tried the latch, and it slid open. No one was outside to catch her, no one was chasing or running about to find her. She just went outside and took a deep breath of the fresh air. It was cool, but like the gardener said, not at all cold. The Scottish chill that filled her lungs gave Kenna a deep sense of home, and her thoughts drifted there, back to Fort Mary.
I wonder what Ma is doing, and Pa? They seemed so happy that I was going off to be married and get all grown up, but what if they knew? What if everything they found out about Macdonald and everything else? What if they found out about Gavin? I just don’t know.
Her thoughts carried her far away and long ago, or at least it felt like it was long ago even though, it terrified her to realize, she had been home in Fort Mary not a week and a half in the past.
“Hey! Hey you! What are you doing?” A voice broke her repose. “You there! You’re not supposed to be out here!”
“Damn, damn, damn!” Kenna said under her breath. “Think, Kenna, think!”
She turned and looked behind her to see one of the younger house servants. She thought it was the one who Macdonald had tend his chamber pots. Why he needed more than one, she hadn’t a clue, but she was almost sure that was who this was. She cursed her bare feet and her form-fitting dress, and then started to run.
A step after she started, her dress split down the left side, but she kept right on.
Gavin, I must get to Gavin was the only thing running through her mind, not the stones biting into the bottoms of her feet or the binding, squeezing ache of her arms where the cloth on her sleeves dug deeper with every passing moment.
Where are you? What am I doing?
She stopped in her tracks. Behind her, the young steward came running, the hard clomping of his feet on the cobblestones made Kenna cringe, but she didn’t bother to turn, nor fight him. Standing still with her shoulders slouched she felt a hand on the back of her neck, and then a squeeze. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it too hard to be comfortable, pulling her arm behind him.
Numbly, she followed him back to the house, watching the tips of her toes one after the other, touch the cracks between the stones.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To where you belong.”
––––––––
Seated on her bed, staring into the fireplace in the corner of her chamber, and watching the gentle orange light bouncing off the floor, Kenna briefly considered diving into the fire and letting it burn her, then decided that would be quite painful and instead thought about using one of the logs to burn down the castle before she remembered it was made of stone.
Might burn a tapestry, she thought. I’d hate that though. The tapestries are the only parts of this place that aren’t ugly and dirty and...
“No, no, no! You are trying very hard Louis, but this is just not how you should be making a bed! The corner goes under the mattress like so, and then you fold, and, yes, yes this is very good!”
“Olga! Olga, I need you for a second,” Kenna said, sticking her head out of her chamber door and calling down the hall. “Very important.”
“Give me one second, dear. Louis is learning to make beds!”
Kenna couldn’t help but laugh even with her dire circumstances. Olga was prattling on for another few seconds, complimenting the young man about his bed-making abilities and then insulting him for not having the sheets quite tight enough. A moment later, she looked into Kenna’s room. Never had a big, round, smiling face ever been so welcome.
“What is it you need, Miss Kenna? Very important lesson being taught.”
“It’s...it’s Gavin. The man I told you about?”
“Oh, ho ho! Yes, the one from the party with the big, round shoulders and the thick-”
“Right, yes, that one. Well it seems as though the sheriff and Macdonald have somehow caught him and he’s been thrown in jail. Gavin had promised to visit me last night, but when he appeared outside of the window, he seemed to be acting preoccupied. He was very strange.”
“Must be a strange thing to be in two places at once, no?”
“I don’t think he was in two places at once. I’m fairly sure the man who came to see me was not actually Gavin, but was the other man with him.”
“Ooh! Was it the one with the big beard and those big, strong arms?”
“No, the slighter one, I think. It was hard to tell from so great a distance.”
“Normally visitors in the night are very close to one another, how-”
“Olga!”
“I'm sorry, Miss Kenna.”
“But anyway, the man who came, he gave me an address and told me to go there tomorrow...well that’d be tonight right at sunset.”
“Do you have the address? I run so many errands in town that I’m well versed.”
“Aye, here,” Kenna handed it over.
“Oh! Why are you going here?”
“Is something the matter? I’ve no idea where that is, except that it’s on Queen’s.”
“This is the apartment of the Earl and Lady of Dorchester. They’ve been in talks with Lord Macdonald for a time. He’s working on some sort of business deal with them. But why there?”
“I’ve no idea, that’s only the address I was given. It might just be a place for meeting up.”
“Must be, no other reason for... unless...”
“Unless what?”
“No, it cannot be that – I was thinking maybe your dashing friend was to steal from those crooked persons, but he wouldn’t involve you in danger.”
“How do you know?”
“I know his type. They are brave and strong and protect a woman. I’ve known men like that before. What can I do for you? You had better be of a hurry if you’re to get there in time, even by carriage.”
“That’s the problem. I can’t leave.”
“No certainly not in that dress, it’s torn.”
“Olga,” Kenna laughed. “No, it’s not that. Ramsay is convinced that if I step foot outside the house I’ll be immediately whisked away by a roving spirit or brigands or something and so he has people making sure I don’t go anywhere.”
“Oh, that is a problem.”
Olga walked with her heel deliberately touching her toe all the way along the inner wall of Kenna’s chamber, then turned around and went back. When she arrived where Kenna stood, a revelation struck.
“I know! You are in much luck, Miss Kenna.”
“You can help me? Are you sure?”
“Oh yes, Miss Kenna, certainly.”
“But how?”
“It’s the laundry. After a party, Mr. Macdonald is not the sort to want the noise required of laundering so much linen, so he has it sent to a place in town to do it instead. I always told him that was a silly waste of money, but he just stared at me down that pointed little nose of his. Gott im Himmel but he’s a stubborn man.”
“Yes, well, about the carriage...”
“Of course, it departs in a half hour or so. It goes down Queen’s on the way to the launderer’s. But you’ll have to pay mind to where you are because you’ll be in the back, buried in linen.”
“I’ll what? Why can I not ride up front with the driver?”
Olga chuckled, her round face turning pink.
“Aren’t you like a prisoner here? Wouldn’t you need to be leaving in a way other than by the front door else you could just go and do it? Forgive if I am not understanding, dear.”
“No, no you’re right. Of course. I’m a fool, I’m sorry.”
“You are addled by love and captivity. Come with me, I’ll introduce you to your traveling companions. But first let’s get you into some clothes that will be less constricting.”
“How do you mean?”
“I think you’re going to need to wiggle some, no?”
Olga’s devilish laugh brought a smile to Kenna’s lips, and then a heavy crimson flush when she realized what Olga was talking about.
––––––––
The linens in which Kenna found herself nestled were dirty, but soft. There was a table cloth directly underneath her head, and a number of bed sheets that seemed to have never been used. Olga had packed her in with a couple of pillows directly under where she sat to cushion her from the blows that she was assured the road would deliver to her backside, and then she was draped over with other cloth to hide her on the way to town.
“Remember, Miss Kenna that you must watch where you’re going. The carriage will not stop.”
Kenna nodded and thanked Olga for her kindness with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Oh you’re too nice of a girl, Kenna. You’ll find what you seek. I know it.”
Laughing, Kenna pulled the mummy-like wrapping around herself in such a way that even fully concealed she could look out and see her surroundings. “How will I know the place?” She asked Olga.
“It’s a large apartment house, saddled on either side by smaller buildings. The one you’re after is three stories tall, and adorned with the Dorchester crest. Which I can’t quite recall the image, but I’m certain that it’s gaudy. They all seem to be. It’s halfway down Queen’s as you’ll be going. Got it?”
“I think so. Thank you for everything, Olga. I mean it. This could have been the most horrific week in my life but you kept that from happening.”
Another hug that turned tearful, and then Olga pushed her backwards and re-wrapped the mummy. “There’s plenty that could still go wrong. Be careful, Miss Kenna. Very careful.”
“I will, I promise.”
“Alright Henry, you can go deliver the laundry – oh what was that? You can’t squeeze me there, you fresh young man!”