Soul Of A Highlander (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)(34)

“I'm so pleased you're here,” the lady continued. “I was just thinking, now, where is that young lady with the fine eyes and nimble fingers? You are most welcome, Claudine.”

Claudine felt her face flush pink with praise and she took a seat beside another lady on the settee. Bernadette followed her in.

“Ah. Bernadette, yes? Welcome, also,” Lady Cornelia said absently.

Claudine was angry that Bernadette was always sidelined, even though it was to be expected. She's like a sister to me, not a maid. She was certainly more companion than the other young ladies were. Just a glance about the room let her eyes alight on Berthe and Luella, both a pair of spiteful cats.

As she took up her needle, she felt her tension and anger dissolve. Fine lacy stitches of white on white, flowers embroidered around little cutouts that made their centers, the work around the border was subtle and magnificent. She could see a few places where it had been rushed or the stitches had been formed badly and she frowned. She could add to those.

After an hour had passed, she felt Bernadette appear at her elbow.

“Mm?” She asked as her friend touched her arm. She looked up dreamily, busy threading a needle. “What is it?”

“My lady? It's almost half past five of the clock. We should go.”

Claudine felt disappointed and a little impatient again. While the other ladies gave her jealous glances – most of them seemed to hate stitching and do it only as a reason to gather together here and chat – she herself was sad to end. She frowned at Bernadette, but she remembered the injunction earlier. Trust me.

“Lady Cornelia?”

“Yes, my dear?” Lady Cornelia looked up with kind slate-dark eyes. “Can I help you? You need another color thread?”

Claudine smiled. “No. As much as I don't want to, it seems I have to go.”

Lady Cornelia frowned. “Well, if you must, my dear. But I hope to see you back. Look, ladies! Look how fine those stitches are. Ah, Claudine! If only we all had your nimbleness.”

Claudine looked at her hands, feeling shy. “Thank you, my lady.”

She could already hear mutinous murmurings as some of the ladies took offense at her work being singled out. She knew it was only a matter of time before someone made some barbed comment about her work – inevitably involving her disability. She hurried out of the sweet-scented, sunlit room, going as fast as she could before they started.

They sped up the hallway and she leaned against the wall a moment to get her breath back.

“Bernadette,” she whispered. “Can you please tell me...what's all this about?” Why did her head have to ache like this? She could scarcely see straight! She focused on Bernadette's face firmly.

Bernadette looked round, eyes darting back and forth nervously. “Not yet, milady...please?”

Claudine sighed. “If you insist.”

They waited a moment while she got her breath back. Then they headed upstairs to her chambers, Bernadette with a furtive air, looking down hallways, speeding ahead. When they were in there, Claudine leaned against the door and face Bernadette.

“Right. Now. The truth. Please, Bernadette? I have the right to know.”

Bernadette sighed. “Very well. Only let me do your hair first, my lady? And mayhap change your gown? Perhaps the pink one. It becomes you so well.” She seemed to be filled with some kind of urgency.

Claudine shook her head impatiently. “The pink gown? Why would I change gowns? We're staying here tonight! Uncle has an audience, does he not? Please, Bernadette?”

Bernadette sighed. “Trust me, milady?”

Claudine felt her patience fray slightly more. “I'm doing my best, Bernadette. But trust needs honesty. Not secrets. Tell me?”

Bernadette sighed. “Just put on the gown?”

Claudine rolled her eyes.

“If you insist,” she said.

“Yes, milady.” Bernadette said. Then she smiled. “I'm sorry, milady. But you do have a vicious scowl for such a beautiful woman.”

Claudine wanted to stay angry, but Bernadette was laughing so much that she couldn't help but to join in.

“Oh, Bernadette,” she sighed. “You are a good friend.”

They worked together to help her out of the cream gown and into the pink.

“Right,” Claudine said firmly as Bernadette stood behind her, ready to brush her hair. “Now, what is this all about? Tell me?”

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Claudine looked at Bernadette's reflected face, feeling tense with shock. Who would it be? Uncle had to be in the audience chamber! It surely wasn't him..? If not him, who was it then? She felt her heart thump with nerves, made all the worse by Bernadette's blank stare.

“Oh, heavens,” Bernadette whispered. “Be calm. Be calm...”

Claudine turned round. “Bernadette! What on..?”However, Bernadette was already opening the door. Claudine stood, feeling her heart thump with fright. Had Bernadette lost her senses? Who was she...Oh!

“Lord Francis?”

He was there. Tall and strong and handsome, dressed in a loose tunic and cream trousers and with his reddish hair a little longer than when they'd met. He stared at her. She stared back.

Claudine felt her whole body turn red with a big blush. He was here. In her bedchamber? How could...