The Kadin - Bertrice Small [176]
She lived quietly with her child, who saw his father quite regularly. Occasionally Adam even sought solace in her bed, for his bride was a cold, proud girl. Jeannie was careful, however, that there were no more children. Hugh was eight when the countess discovered his existence.
Heavy with her second child, mourning the death of her first son, Donald, she had several times passed a boy exiting the family vault in the chapel. Upon entering she had found wildflowers on her baby son’s tomb. She was touched, and after this had happened several times she stopped the boy.
“Do you put flowers on Lord Donald’s tomb?”
“Aye, madame,” came the reply.
“Why?”
Red Hugh More had never seen the countess in his life, so it was in all innocence that he answered, “The bairn were my half-brother.”
Numbed, Anne asked, “Who is yer mother?”
“Jeannie More,” said the boy. “We hae a wee cottage in the glen.”
“And yer father?” Her voice shook slightly.
“The lord Adam, ma’am”
“Do ye ken who I am?”
“Nay, madame.”
“I am lord Adam’s wife, and,” her voice rose shrilly, “I forbid ye to ever come here again! My children are nae related to any peasant whore’s bastard! Get out! I never want to see yer face again!”
The lad fled, and several days afterwards her father-in-law came and spoke to her.
“Leslies acknowledge their own,” he said quietly. “Ye hae been wed wi’ my son six years, and never has he shamed ye as other men do their wives wi’ their amours. I dinna think he will unless ye try his patience greatly. Ye are his lady, yer children my heirs. Only ye can change that”
It was enough. She never spoke of it, and neither did Adam. However, once when visiting a sick woman in the glen she noticed a tall, big-boned woman with brown hair and straightforward blue eyes staring at her. “Who is that?” she asked her waiting woman, Hannah. Hannah hesitated, then replied, “Jeannie More.” Strangely the countess was relieved. She had pictured her rival a lush peasant beauty, hardly this plain, big woman. The knowledge soothed her vanity.
Anne was sure that her sister-in-law had chosen Red Hugh More to captain the men-at-arms she was hiring simply to annoy her. Janet knew her bastard nephew annoyed Anne, but she had chosen him because she knew that the most trustworthy captain of one’s own guards was likely to be a relative. Besides, Janet liked Red Hugh, The big, blue-eyed red-haired giant was loyal, charming, and was already paying court to Marian’s daughter, Ruth.
For the next few months, Janet spent much of her time checking on the progress of Sithean, her new home. Sithean, pronounced “Shee-ann”, meant Fairy Knoll in Gaelic, and Janet had given the estate that name because it was being built on a tiny island believed by the peasants to have been inhabited in ancient times by the fairies.
The island was located almost a quarter of a mile off the main shore of the loch, and an elaborate, heavily fortified bridge had been built linking the two. The castle, built at the narrow end of the island, was surrounded on three sides by water. The remaining land was carefully gardened and terraced with two small pastures set aside for the horses, sheep and cattle. Then as a final precaution, a stone wall, interspersed at even intervals with watch towers was set around the entire island.
“The expense,” moaned Anne one day. “Ye’ve built it to withstand a siege.”
Janet could feel her temper rising, but knowing that sweetness nettled her sister-in-law more than a sharp retort, she replied, “I am a woman alone. Easy prey for the lawless in these hard times. Would you prefer I stay wi’ you and Adam?” She laughed at the look on Anne’s face. “Come, Anne, be honest wi’ me for once. Ye count the days till Sithean is habitable.”
“Ye spend yer gold as though it were endless.”
“It is.”
“Think of yer son.”
“My son?”
“If ye waste yer gold, what will be