Lady Eilean

Chapter 2

Some years later, on a dark and stormy night full of fog and furious wind, I sat on my bedchamber floor, cozy on the high-pile rug and snug in front of a roaring fire that crackled and popped. The blaze warmed the front side of my body. My shoulders and back were a touch chilled as I had left the windows wide open to welcome the storm. The wind howled through the room and the tapestries shook on their rods.

"What are you doing?" I heard Alex ask from behind me.

I turned to face my best friend, his head leaning through the doorway. He was covered in hay, splattered in mud, and drenched from head to foot. His cheeks were red and chapped from the wind. Water dripped into his eyes from his sodden, blond curls.

"I am reflecting," I said, trying to give the word the same heavy importance my mother had earlier. She had been lecturing me on the need to appear impassive to anything said in my company. Folding my hands into my lap as daintily as I could, I tried to show off my newfound grace, but I only felt clumsy and silly.

"Mother says that ladies should always take time during the day to think about how they can improve themselves for tomorrow." I tried to sit up as tall and as dignified as one could on the floor. It hurt my back, and I was soon slouching again.

Alex let himself into the room, kicking off his muddy boots and leaving them by the door. Grabbing a spare blanket, he laid it down on the rug before sitting down beside me. He also knew the wrath of Mother and what would be a certain punishment if he defiled the beautiful rug.

"Reflecting sounds boring, Eilean," he said with unimpressed judgment.

Letting my shoulders slouch, I let out a huff of air, "It is dreadful. I think Mother means to use the exercise as a punishment. But I can't understand what I did wrong."

Alex shrugged, "Did she find out it was you who put tadpoles in her tea?"

"I don't think so."

"Stole all her tea cakes from Cook?"

"That was you," I pointed out.

Alex grinned, almost laughing. "Tell Cookie they were delicious for me, will you?"

I laughed, the chill and gloom of the evening swept from the room in an instant.

Alex regularly came to find me at the end of the day. While we had some lessons together, he mostly spent his days outside riding, tending the stables, or out on assignments with my brothers. I spent my days locked inside with little to distract from or guide my hours. I found time, where I could, to torment my mother in defiance of her ever-increasing pressure on me to be a perfect doll. Alex's nightly visits were the only true highlight of my day.

After a moment's consideration, Alex said, "Maybe it was the yarn?"

"I hadn't thought about the yarn!"

Weeks ago, Alex and I had unspooled all the skeins of yarn in my mother's knitting baskets. We tied the ends of each color together, adding in various knots here and there. Then wound them back up, disguising the deed.

We both started laughing, enjoying the memory of the moment. It helped blur the remembrance of my mother's anger and the bright sting of her slap across my cheek. Absently, I rubbed my hand along my skin as if I could smear away the impact. My cheek was tender and warm even hours later. I reached for a nearby doll and cradled it in my arms, drawing comfort from her squishy body. I smoothed her yellow yarn hair with my fingers.

"Everyone is excited for the big party tomorrow," Alex said, changing the subject. "I had to groom all the horses!"

"It's the Standing," I said, braiding the doll's hair. "Mother says it is when people get married."

"Yuck," Alex protested. "All you talk about is lady stuff."

I stuck my tongue out at him, "I am a Lady. What else am I supposed to talk about?"

Alex sighed and laid down on his side. He started setting up my doll's miniature tea set — not so concerned with "lady stuff" after all.

"Mother says at the Standing a boy chooses a girl and then they get married." I tied the doll's braid with a spare ribbon. "I don't know any boys except for you, my brothers, and Father."

Alex grunted, setting tiny cups on tiny saucers.

"You smell like horses and my brothers are mean. Father yells all the time. I don't know why anyone would want to marry a boy."

"That's what we're supposed to do, boys and girls, get married," Alex said distractedly.

"I went to the Standing last year when I was ten and it was boring. Worse than church. You're lucky you were sick for it, it was awful!"

"If you don't want to go, pretend you're sick and get out of it," he suggested.

"The lace on my dress is so itchy," I complained.

Alex looked up and smiled mischievously. "We could sink your dress down the well and then you couldn't go at all." The suggestion was an easy one for him, a simple problem with a simple solution.

"You have good ideas," I said, seriously considering it. "We'd have to tie rocks it to make sure it really stayed down and no one could fish it out."

"Don't compliment me, I don't want to become 'incorrigible'." Alex said, shaking his head.

"What's that?"

"I don't know, but the Stable Master says it when Ian McFowler is misbehaving and needs scolded."

"If you can figure out how to spell it, I will look it up in Father's dictionary," I promised.

"I wish you worked in the stables with me. It would be fun! You should ask your father if you can." Alex smiled brightly, thinking it was a perfectly reasonable request.

I shook my head. Father might entertain the idea if only to add another tale to his collection of stories he shared to mock me. I wouldn't give him the fodder for further humiliation. And besides, "Mother would never allow it," I pointed out. "You saw how much trouble I got into when we suck out and went to the river last month."

It had been a thrilling flight for freedom. A beautiful spring day had called us both out to the wide open spaces and blue skies that lay beyond Stormway walls.

"That's because you lost your gold ring," Alex pointed out. "I don't think you got in trouble because you were outside."

"It was a brass ring," I said, rolling my eyes. "A piece of junk."

"A lady protects herself and her possessions by remaining indoors, especially if she has routinely proven she cannot demonstrate a sense of responsibility for herself," Alex said, mocking Mother's lecture with perfect imitation.

"It is not healthy or good for a growing girl's constitution to take more than a turn or two per day in the courtyard or garden," I parroted my Mother, too.

Alex scrunched up his face in disgust, "That's stupid and even I know it. Why am I allowed to get dirty and you cannot? We are the same age, after all. They treat you like you're already grown."

"I dunno," I said, clutching my doll once again.

"Come on," Alex said, standing up, "Let's go see if Cook has anything leftover from dinner. I want more dessert." He reached down and held out his hand, offering to help me up.

I tucked my doll tight under my arm and allowed Alex to pull me to my feet.

"If this was my castle, and you were my ward, I'd let you go outside whenever you wished." He declared with simple sincerity.

It made me smile, but I no longer wanted to dwell. Hand in hand, I ran, pulling Alex behind me as we raced down the corridors and toward the kitchen.