She didn't comment and simply continued down the stairs as Marach rushed to meet them.
"I thought ye wanted a bath?" he asked with a frown.
"She's wanting confessing first," Gilly said for her.
"Now?" Marach asked with a frown. "But I've just told the maids to fetch ye a bath."
"Perfect," Annabel said lightly as she headed across the great hall. "First a clean soul and then a clean body. Will that not be nice?"
Marach muttered something under his breath about the vagaries of women, but fell into step beside Gilly at her heels and followed.
"Lady MacKay," the priest greeted her with obvious surprise when Annabel led the men into the chapel moments later. If he was surprised at her returning, she was a little surprised at being called Lady MacKay. It was a new title and he was the first to address her so, but she decided she liked it. "Good morn again, Father . . ." Annabel paused uncertainly, realizing with some shame that she did not even know the priest's name. She hadn't even managed to make it to mass until that morning. The abbess would have fits if she heard about that.
"Gibson," the priest said helpfully.
"Gibson." Annabel smiled widely at the man. "You are English?"
"Aye." He nodded. "Fortunately the MacKays do not hold that against me."
Annabel grinned at the light words, and then said, "I have come for confession."
"Of course," the man said, immediately becoming solemn and serious.
"Thank you," Annabel said and then turned to eye Marach and Gilly with arched eyebrows.
The men hesitated, glanced at each other and then backed away to give her some semblance of privacy, but Annabel simply scowled at them. They moved a couple more feet back, and then all the way to the door when she simply continued to glare at them.
"Can you hear me?" Annabel asked solemnly.
When both men nodded, Annabel turned to Father Gibson and said with regret, "I guess I shall have to bypass confession for now, Father. I apologize. But thank you for--"
"Oh, no, no, no," he interrupted and started toward the men, waving them away. "Come now. Off with you. Lady MacKay deserves some privacy for her confession. You shall have to wait outside."
"But we're no' to leave her alone, Father," Marach protested, even as he backed to the door. "She was attacked yesterday in the woods and we're to--"
"Well, no one is going to attack her here. She is perfectly safe in the chapel. You can wait outside until she comes out," Father Gibson insisted.
"But--" Gilly tried.
"Out," the priest repeated, and the two men backed reluctantly out into the hall.
"We'll be right outside this door," Gilly said.
"Yes, yes," Father Gibson said impatiently and then closed the door in his face. Turning, he smiled at her with satisfaction and walked back, saying, "There. We are all set now. Would you like to--"
"I am sorry, Father, but I really do not have a confession," Annabel interrupted quietly, taking his arm to urge him as far away from the door as she could. Pausing then, she frowned and said, "Although I suppose I should confess that I lied about confessing."
"What?" Father Gibson said with bewilderment.
Annabel patted his arm and explained, "You see, I am chatelaine now."
"Aye, of course you are, my lady," he agreed.
"And part of my responsibilities is to oversee the spinner, weaver and embroiderer here. Only there are none."
"Aye, I know," Father Gibson said sadly, peering down at his somewhat frayed vestments. " 'Twas a sad day indeed when we lost Miriam and her brood."
Annabel nodded solemnly, but inside she was smiling. The man had just told her how to get him to agree with her plan. "Well, the good news is that I hope to replace them all, and the better news is that I understand there is a woman in the village who is excellent with a needle."
"Is there?" he asked with interest.
"Aye, and I was hoping to slip down to the village and have a word with her, to convince her to come work in the castle. It would be the first step in setting things to right in the matter of clothing here. The first step toward being able to have you made some fine new vestments."
"Oh, that would be lovely. It has been such a trial this last year."
"Aye," Annabel agreed, and then heaved out a little sigh and said, "Sadly, my husband has told Gilly and Marach not to let me out of the keep because of a couple trifling little incidents the past two days."
"Oh yes, I did hear about the attacks, my lady." Father Gibson patted her arm and shook his head. "I was not prying, of course, but did wonder why you had not yet attended mass since arriving and so I asked around and was most distressed to hear about the attacks on your person."
"Aye, it was most unfortunate that I was forced to miss mass," Annabel murmured, thankful that whoever had told him the tales had somehow made it sound as if she'd missed mass both days because of the attacks when the truth was she'd slept through the first and had been cleaning up dog dung during the second. Neither was a very good excuse to miss mass and she should be ashamed of herself, especially when she'd spent the better part of her life in an abbey where they held seven services a day starting at two o'clock in the morning. Honestly, it had been hard to get anything done when they were constantly forced to stop for this service or that one. Annabel had always been glad to help out in the stables because of that. You simply couldn't leave an ailing animal to attend service and she'd missed several over the years thanks to that excuse.
"Just as distressing is the fact that those attacks have now made my husband overly cautious to the point that it is interfering with my ability to go to the village and convince this woman to come work for us," Annabel said sadly.
"Oh, aye, that is distressing," Father Gibson said unhappily. "Very unfortunate indeed."
"Aye." Annabel nodded. "Then you will help me?"
Father Gibson blinked with confusion, and then frowned. "Help you with what exactly, my lady?"
"Well, nothing really," she said with a smile. "You need only stand here and say nothing while I slip away to the stables, fetch my mare and ride out to the village."
"Oh," he said, still frowning, and then his expression filled with realization. "Oh! You mean to let the men think you are in here confessing and--Oh nay, I could not possibly."
"Oh, but Father, they would never know," Annabel assured him.
"What if something befell you? What if you were attacked again? Nay, I could not possibly be a party to putting you in harm's way." He shook his head firmly.
"I would ride quickly, and Jasper will accompany me," Annabel argued, the words drawing the priest's attention to the dog at her feet.
He scowled as if just having noticed the animal was in his chapel, and then turned his attention to her and said firmly, "My lady, you presently have two very unattractive bruises on your face from your previous encounters with your attacker. I will not risk being responsible for a third. The next one might kill you."
Annabel tapped one foot with exasperation as she thought, and then peered at him consideringly. "What if you only waited until I fetched my mare and started out of the stables with her, and then went to tell Gilly and Marach?" When he started to shake his head, she rushed on, "They would hurry after me and I would be sure to allow them to catch up enough that I was in their line of sight all the way to the village. That way I could speak with the woman and be safe at the same time."
Father Gibson frowned, but at least he was no longer shaking his head.
"Your fine, new, rich vestments would be the first thing I ordered done," she wheedled. "Even before I had gowns made for myself and surely you have heard I arrived without anything but the gown on my back."
"Aye. Ross confessed that he was so eager to get you away from your horrid parents that he did not even allow you time to pack your things," Father Gibson murmured.
"Did he?" Annabel asked. She hadn't realized that was the reason he'd rushed her away from Waverly. Giorsal had said