"Aye?" Joan asked, turning back once more.
The maid hesitated, wringing her hands as she did, then pleaded, "Pray, do no' tell cook what I said. He has a bit o' a temper and he's really no' so bad. 'Tis just his way, and at least he does no' beat us."
Joan swallowed the anger rising in her throat, and nodded solemnly. "I'll not repeat what you said."
"Oh, thank ye, m'lady." Jinny beamed at her with relief.
Managing a smile, Joan slipped from the room and made her way down to the solar to talk to Lady Sinclair.
"There ye are," Lady Sinclair said when Joan entered the room, setting aside the deep red material she'd been examining. "I was just looking to see how far the girls have got with your gowns. They're moving along rather quickly. A good thing too. I expect three or four will be leaving us tomorrow, and another three the day after. A couple will be here longer, but most will be gone within the next three days and we'll have to finish on our own." She stood up and smiled expectantly. "Well? Will Jinny do?"
"Aye," Joan said and smiled. "Thank you, my lady."
"Not at all, dear." Lady Sinclair moved forward and slid her arm around her waist to urge her toward the door. "Ye have to have a lady's maid. 'Sides, I should be thankin' you. I was beginning to fear I would never see grandbabies from me son. Now I ha'e that hope alive within me again."
"Oh," Joan breathed, guilt immediately rising up within her. She was still afraid of the birthing bed, and knew Cam had no desire to risk losing another wife there, so had continued to use the wild carrot despite the wedding. Which meant Lady Sinclair was going to be very disappointed when no children were produced by the union.
CAM SLOWED AS HE NEARED HIS ROOM, eyes widening with dismay as he heard the caterwauling coming from inside. It was mid-morning, the nooning meal would not be for a couple of hours yet, and he'd hoped perhaps his wife could take some time from her lessons for a little break with him. The sounds coming from his room, however, suggested she was in dire need of those lessons.
"Nay, nay, stop dear," Lady Annabel's voice sounded, bringing an end to the off-tune shrieking taking place in the room. "Listen to Kenna again."
Cam smiled faintly as Kenna began to sing. The girl had the voice of an angel, he thought, as she began to sing a slow sweet song about a maid's love for a brave warrior. It was a well-known song, but Cam only recognized it now. Joan's version had been decidedly unrecognizable.
"There," Lady Annabel said with satisfaction when Kenna's voice died away. "Now you try, dear. But try to sing from here, from your chest rather than through your nose."
The caterwauling started up again, this time in a tone a little lower than the nasally sound that had come out before, but it was still an off-tune caterwauling that made Cam wince. Singing, it seemed, was not Joan's forte, he thought, but then he didn't mind. He wasn't much of a singer himself, he thought, and raised his hand to knock--
"There ye are."
Cam paused without knocking and glanced to the side at that comment to see Aiden moving toward him from the stairs. Turning away from the door, he walked forward to meet him. "What's about?"
"Da wants to talk to ye," Aiden announced.
"Oh." Cam glanced back toward the door to his room, and then sighed. "Where is he?"
"Down at the stables having two horses saddled up fer the two o' ye," Aiden answered absently, his gaze shifting past him to the bedroom door as Joan's attempted singing continued.
Nodding, Cam moved past him toward the stairs, but paused at the top step to glance back. Aiden was staring at the bedroom door with a sort of horror. "Are ye coming?"
"Oh, aye," Aiden turned and moved toward him, but glanced back over his shoulder as he came and muttered, "What the devil are they doing in there? Skinning a cat?"
Cam just shook his head and started down the stairs. Joan wasn't that bad. She was bad enough though, he acknowledged and decided it was good he didn't care if she could sing or not.
"NAY, DEAR. STOP," LADY ANNABEL SAID, her smile a little forced now.
Joan stopped singing at once, and was relieved to do so. Sighing, she shook her head. " 'Tis useless. I can't sing."
"That's not true," her aunt said at once. "You have a lovely voice, you just need to learn not to put so much energy into your singing," she added almost apologetically. "You are bellowing rather than singing, dear, and it makes it difficult for you to carry the tune."
Joan shook her head, quite sure she could never sing as beautifully as Kenna.
"Let us try it again. This time though, sing as softly as you can. Whisper even, and then we will--" She paused and glanced to the door as a knock sounded. "Kenna, will you . . . ?" Lady Annabel let the question die, Kenna was already halfway to the door.
"Good morn," Lady Garia said brightly when Kenna opened the door. Spotting Joan, she smiled and said, "One o' the dresses is near being done and we thought to ha'e ye try it on ere we finish it."
"Oh, of course," Joan said and stood quickly to move to the door. She was more than eager to quit her singing lessons for now. In fact, she would not mind stopping all the lessons altogether. It was terribly disheartening proving she could not do any of the tasks her aunt and cousins seemed to think were so important for a lady to know.
"I think ye'll like it," Garia said as she led her quickly down the hall to the solar. "At least I hope ye will," she added wryly.
"I'm sure I will," Joan assured her, and truly believed that. She was wearing another borrowed gown of Annella's at the moment and while it was lovely, she was ever conscious that it was borrowed and she had to be careful not to stain it. A much more difficult task than one would expect when her husband kept dragging her out to the back courtyard at night to roll around in the grass. When she and his mother had returned below last night, most of the others were just rising to retire. Cam had pulled her aside for another good night kiss and hug, telling her to meet him again once everyone was asleep.
Joan had gone eagerly, but there had been a nip in the air last night, and she had been so worried about Annella's gown . . . well, it would make things much easier when a few of the girls left and she and Cam could share a bed again.
"What think ye?"
Joan blinked her thoughts away as she halted in the door to the solar and saw the gown two of the women were holding up. It was a masterpiece of deep red with a square neckline and drop sleeves. Gold trim had been added under the bust, and at the upper arms.
"We made a matching chaplet too," one of the women announced, holding up a wreath of red velvet with the gold trim crisscrossing it all the way around and then dangling down the back.
"Oh," Joan breathed. It truly was a beautiful gown. She was a fair hand with the needle, but knew she could never have managed this wondrous creation herself.
"Try it on," Garia urged. "So we can see what must be done."
Joan moved forward and was immediately beset by the women, all first eagerly undressing her, and then just as eagerly dropping the new gown over her head and doing up the stays before all stepping back to consider their efforts.
"Oh my," Garia sighed and the comment was followed by several murmurs and sighs by the other women.
Joan peered down at herself, gently running her hands over the soft cloth. It looked beautiful from her perspective, but she couldn't see the whole picture. She frowned slightly as she noted that the hem was extremely long, and gently lifted the skirt a bit so that it wasn't dragging on the ground.
"Do no' worry about that," Garia said at once, brushing her hands away so that she released the skirt. "We knew 'twould be too long still. Finola said she had the same measurements as you in the bosom and waist and offered to act as yer substitute while we made it."
"She did?" Joan asked with surprise.
"Aye, we were surprised too," Garia admitted, but then shrugged. "Still, it was all she was willing to do and it did help. But we made it to her height to get the full effect, planning to hem it and add gold trim to the bottom when we
were sure the rest fit properly."
"And it does, 'tis perfect." Joan glanced to the speaker, recognizing her as the lady who had fainted on the steps the day they'd arrived. Murine, she thought Lady Sinclair had called the blond woman.
"Aye," a petite brunette said. Her big brown eyes moved over their efforts critically and then she suggested, "But we should pin it for hemming while she's wearing it to be sure it's absolutely perfect."
There were general murmurs of agreement all around and then Garia raised her eyebrows. "Would ye mind standing still in it long enough to pin the hem?"
Joan opened her mouth to agree, but then hesitated. Her aunt expected her to attend her lessons. It was the reason her aunt and cousins had gone to all the trouble of packing their belongings and traveling here, leaving her husband and son behind. She could hardly just shirk those lessons and--
"Of course, she will."
Joan glanced with surprise toward the door at that announcement and stared wide-eyed at her aunt. "Really?"
"Aye," Lady Annabel said with a smile and then looked her over slowly and shook her head. "You look more beautiful than I could have imagined, Joan. Of course, you must help them finish it." Moving forward, she kissed her cheek lightly, and whispered, "Maggie would be so proud to see you like this."
Joan blinked away the tears those words brought to her eyes and hugged her aunt, which immediately brought protests that she would wrinkle the gown.
Laughing, Lady Annabel stepped back, holding her hands up as if to fend them off. "All right then, you girls go ahead and get started and I shall see if I cannot get one of the servants to bring you up some pastries and cider for all your hard work."
Joan smiled as she watched her aunt leave.
"Oh dear," Garia said suddenly behind her.
"Is something amiss?" Joan asked glancing around to the woman.