"Aye." Angus nodded solemnly. "Yer life has changed now that ye've taken a wife. But so has hers. 'Tis the way of things. Ye need to accept that and make the best of it."
"Perhaps," Duncan muttered unhappily.
"There is no perhaps about it, boy. As far as I can see, Iliana has done all that is in her power to make our home more pleasant. Tell me, what have you done for her?"
"She's done it all fer hersel', not me," Duncan grumbled, not ready to concede yet.
"Has she? Well now, I did not notice that she instructed Elgin to cook fine fare only fer her but continue to offer slop to the rest of us. Neither did I notice that she had her room cleaned but left the common rooms to ruin. Nay. In fact, my room was cleaned and filled with fresh rushes just last week under yer lady wife's orders, and I ken that they cleaned Seonaid's room, too, and yet they have not got to clean the one she and her mother have been using. It seems to me she leaves the consideration of her own comfort last."
Duncan was silent, a startled look on his face. This was something he had to consider.
Iliana surveyed the room with displeasure. For two days she had lain in bed, staring at the filthy rushes and stained tapestries of her husband's room. And for two days the sight had stung her nerves like salt in a sore.
It was her own fault, she supposed. She had not really needed two days to recuperate from her wound but had allowed herself to be persuaded to rest by her mother. In truth, she supposed she had been hiding up here, just as she had been hiding up here while her mother was ill. It had been easy to do. Once again, Duncan had taken to sleeping in Seonaid's vacant room, leaving her to her own devices. But then, everyone had seemed to leave her to her own devices. Even her mother had not offered her company to pass the time and distract her. According to Ebba, the woman was spending her time regaling either Duncan, Angus, or both men with tales of Iliana's childhood. The very idea made her cringe.
This, the third morning after the attack, she had decided she'd had enough of lying about. There were things to do. She had responsibilities. The first of which was to clean this room. She only hoped it would not be as large a task as the great hall had been.
With that question uppermost in her mind, Iliana cleared a small space on the floor with her foot to peer at the wood beneath the rushes. She nodded her satisfaction on seeing that, while it was dusty, there was no sign of the hardened spills that had filled the great hall.
"There is no need to scrub."
Iliana glanced up and smiled slightly at her maid's relieved words. "Nay," she agreed easily. "Merely a good sweeping once the rushes are removed."
Ebba sighed at that, and Iliana felt the chafe of guilt. The maid had been running up and down the castle stairs for the last two weeks, fetching this or that; first for her mother, then for Iliana herself.
"Laird Angus is arranging for men to fetch fresh rushes, but why do you not take the women and go out and collect heather to add to them?" she suggested impulsively. "I shall see to removing these and sweeping up."
When Ebba glanced at her doubtfully, Iliana felt herself flush with shame. Ere coming to Dunbar, the woman would never have been surprised at the idea that Iliana was willing to work. But she had done little real labor of late. Not for the last two weeks.
"Take your time," she added firmly now. "The fresh air will do you good."
"You are sure?"
When she nodded, the maid beamed at her and hurried off.
Iliana turned to survey the room again, sighing as she realized just how much work she had set herself up for. But she did not regret it. Her mother had taught her well the importance of treating one's servants with consideration.
"What has you looking so thoughtful, daughter?"
Iliana glanced up as her mother entered the room and managed a smile. "Good morn, Mother. How do you today?"
"Very well." Pausing at Iliana's side, she kissed her cheek, then glanced about the room. "Ebba has gone to collect some heather."
"Aye. I sent her."
"So she said. I sent Gertie with her," Lady Wildwood murmured, then raised her eyebrows. "With your maid gone, who is it you plan to have empty and sweep the room?"
"I thought to borrow some of Duncan's men to move the chests but will remove the rushes myself."
"What of your side?"
"Gertie has put on a liniment to keep it from paining me. So long as I do not overdo--"
"You shall not overdo because ye shall not do it."
Iliana whirled toward the door at that announcement from her husband, and eyed him with displeasure as his words sank in. "'Tis little enough effort to push a broom around, husband. Surely--"
"Then 'twill be easy work fer the men I send to do it."
Iliana blinked at that, positive she had misunderstood. Had her husband, the man who griped and complained about every spot of cleaning she instigated, just suggested he would send some of his precious men to do it for her?
"'Tis most thoughtful of you, Duncan," Lady Wildwood claimed when Iliana remained silent. "But surely 'tis not necessary to waste the time of the men who work on the wall? Mayhap the guards you have posted to watch me could--"
"There is only one guard now," Duncan interrupted. "I sent one of the men to the kitchen to breakfast."
"Well, surely even one could--"
"His job is to guard ye, and he'll do so. I'll take two men off the wall to see to this."
Impossible! Iliana thought incredulously. She must have caught a fever. Her wound was infected; she had caught a fever and was now hallucinating, she decided.
"Well." Lady Wildwood frowned as her daughter remained mute, then sighed and offered thanks for her. "'Tis obvious you have taken my daughter's breath away with your generosity. The offer is greatly appreciated."
Obviously disappointed by Iliana's silence, Duncan moved forward and stooped to pick up the only chest in the room that was his. Turning toward the door with it, he muttered, "I shall remove this to my room, then send some men up to help with the rest."
"Husband?"
Pausing in the doorway, he turned back, one eyebrow arching slightly.
Iliana hesitated, unsure what to say. He had yet to take a bath, and she did not wish to unintentionally make an offer that she was not willing to keep. In the end, she hesitated too long.
His mouth tightening, he shifted the chest impatiently in his arms. "If ye've naught to say, I've better things to do than stand about--"
Iliana caught a glimpse of motion over her husband's shoulder even as the words died on his mouth. The next moment, he stumbled forward, the chest slipping from his hands and falling open as it crashed to the ground. Its contents spilled across the floor, among them a bottle that slid across the rushes to shatter against the wall, filling the room with the biting scent of whiskey.
Iliana and her mother rushed forward as Duncan collapsed atop the now empty chest. Kneeling on either side of his prone form, they peered at the blood gushing from his head, then glanced to the door in unison as a lit torch flew into the room and the door slammed closed.
Neither woman moved for a moment, shock holding them still as the far end of the room exploded into flame. The fire spread swiftly, rushing toward where she and her mother knelt by her husband.
"Duncan?" Grabbing his arm, Iliana tried to turn him over but was unable to move his great bulk until her mother added her own efforts. Once he was on his back, Iliana felt terror well up within her as she saw the pallor of his complexion.
"He is alive, and we must get out of here."
Her mother's calm words broke through her panic, and Iliana glanced toward the flames licking their way toward them. Without discussing it, each of them got to their feet, took one of his large hands in their own and dragged him across the rushes, panic seeming to add strength to their efforts. At the door, Iliana reached out to press against the wooden surface. Frowning when it did not open, she released the hold she had on Duncan and pressed with both hands, but still the door stuck.
>
"What is it?" Her mother was at her side in an instant.
"It will not open."
Lady Wildwood pushed against the door, paling when her daughter's words proved true. "Someone has blocked it." Pounding on the door, she yelled for her guard, but Iliana stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.
"If he were out there, the room would not be afire."