Mine Is the Night_ A Novel - Liz Curtis Higgs [87]
She nodded. “Apparently all of Selkirk turns out for it. And you?”
“As a landowner I’ll be inspecting the marches.” He tried to sound blasé, but, in truth, the prospect of riding over the hills astride Janvier appealed to him.
“Might you join us for dinner at noontide?” Elisabeth asked. “Our house is a stone’s throw from the mercat cross, where the festivities end.”
He knew where she lived. Not the sort of place a gentleman of rank was oft seen, but he cared little for social conventions. “I cannot be certain of my duties for the day,” he said cautiously, “but I will look for you on Friday. And join you for dinner if I can.”
Thirty-Seven
It’s no’ in steeds, it’s no’ in speeds,
It’s something in the heart abiding;
The kindly customs, words, and deeds,
It’s these that make the Common Riding.
ROBERT HUNTER
ave you ever seen such excitement?” Marjory felt like clapping her hands or spinning round where she stood or throwing her arms in the air. A mature woman did none of those things, of course. But she could feel such urges and no one be the wiser.
She had a right to be merry: Admiral Lord Jack Buchanan was dining at their house this day. She could hardly believe their good fortune. Though they’d spent time and coins they could not spare, their efforts would be rewarded by having the most influential man in Selkirk at their table. Elisabeth had insisted she merely wanted to express her gratitude to the admiral, but Marjory hoped to accomplish more than that. An entrée into society for all the Kerr women. A chance to begin anew.
Her heart light, she surveyed the crowded marketplace. Folk had begun gathering just after the midsummer dawn, bedecked in their brightest and best, reserved for weddings and fairs. Colored ribbons streamed from their hats, and the large cockades worn on their coats declared their allegiance to one of the trades. Anne stood on one side of her and Elisabeth on the other, both happy to be free of their needles and pins for the occasion. Only innkeepers and ale sellers were hard at work this day. The rest of Selkirk left their cares behind, prepared to observe the Common Riding.
Though the air was cool, the June sun would warm them soon enough. So would the press of bodies. Marjory reached for the nosegay of roses tucked in her bodice and breathed in their fresh scent—gifts from Lord Buchanan’s garden, provided for each of the Kerr women. Such a generous man. And to think she’d once dreaded his move to Selkirk! By noontide he would be dining at their table. She’d left everything simmering, baking, and stewing and so needed to return home shortly. For a few minutes at least, she could enjoy the day.
“Look, ’tis Molly Easton.” Elisabeth nodded toward a lass dressed in a sunny yellow gown. “She once told me June was her favorite month because of the Riding.”
“Mine too,” Marjory confessed. “A shame she didn’t find work at Bell Hill.”
“Whitmuir Hall needed a parlormaid, so she’s well placed.” Elisabeth shifted her attention, looking up Kirk Wynd. “When shall we see the riders?”
“Soon,” Anne promised.
Marjory heard the drummers growing restless and the fiddlers tuning their strings. Not much longer now. What began centuries ago with the town burgesses riding the marches—seeing that property boundaries were observed and common lands were not encroached upon—had become an annual summer rite, complete with flags and banners, parades and song.
“There’s the reverend,” Anne said, nodding toward the corner where Kirk Wynd and Cross Gait met.
Marjory followed her gaze, knowing why Anne had pointed out the minister: Gibson was standing beside him. Although not so tall as his employer, Gibson nonetheless had better posture and a far more pleasing countenance. While the reverend’s attention was drawn elsewhere, Gibson lifted his hand in greeting.
I care mair than ye ken. Marjory shivered, recalling his words, not entirely certain of his meaning. He was no longer her manservant, but he was still in service.
And what are you, Marjory Kerr? She well knew the answer: an ill-trained, unpaid cook.