Makenna took a deep breath and exhaled. No turning back now. “Tell them it is…the Lady of Lochlen’s request.”
An hour later, Makenna stood in the inner yard looking out at the small group of two dozen women and a handful of men. There might be a lot she didn’t know about running a keep, but she was reasonably certain the number of people in the yard was far below what was needed to run a castle of Lochlen’s size.
Makenna’s eyes searched the crowd and found Doreen. She motioned for her to come close and whispered, “Is this everybody? I was hoping to talk with everyone at Lochlen, not just those available.”
“Aye, milady, this is everyone, except those you excluded.”
“I thought…well, I thought there would be more people working here.”
Doreen wanted to be anywhere rather than where she was. Wishing she had left when Lela suggested, she nodded. “There are, I mean…were.”
Makenna frowned, feelings of frustration and panic rising within her. “I see.”
A man moved to the front of the small crowd, his mouth thin with displeasure. “No, milady, I don’t think you do see. If you did, you wouldn’t be asking us to come to ye like this.” His eyes were small, deep-set, and firmly positioned upon her.
“And why should I not want to see my staff?” Makenna asked, genuinely curious as to what his objetions could be.
One long finger pointed out at the crowd, as the other pushed back his wispy gray hair. “I have looked, but my eyes cannot seem to find the stable master or his lads. I also do not see the armorers or your friend, the sword smith.”
Makenna felt her face redden and replied defensively, “Well, no—they are not here. I did not want to take them away from their duties.”
“But you have no remorse about pulling me away from my bread. The loaves I was kneading are now ruined and those in the ovens are probably burnt. Now do you see, milady? That’s why so many of us have left. You support the soldiers, but they are not the only ones who work hard and ensure the safety of Lochlen. But you don’t care about us, now, do you?”
The back of Makenna’s hand flew to her mouth as she surveyed the crowd. Several heads were nodding up and down in agreement. She had just made another huge mistake. “Oh Lord, and for those who have stayed, I have just made your work all that much harder.”
His black eyes relaxed as he saw understanding seep its way into his mistress’s expression. “And now, milady, for the first time, I think you just might be seeing the way things are and not the way you want them to be.”
Makenna openly studied the man. Not many would question the laird’s new lady in an open forum, and even fewer would be so harsh. This medium-height, thin-framed man had expanded her perception, giving a larger sense of reason and reality. In a way, he had done for her what she had tried to do for Deirdre. Be honest, despite station or circumstance.
“What is your name?” Makenna’s voice became soft and melodious. Accompanying it was a smile that the men in the yard would talk about for days.
“Dugan, milady,” he answered with quiet emphasis.
“And I take it you are the baker.”
He coughed, suddenly feeling the weight of everyone’s stares. “There was one other, but he left.”
The man looked tired, and now she knew why. He was doing the work of two men. With so few in the yard, Dugan’s situation would no doubt be indicative of those surrounding him. Before she could help Dugan or any of the remaining staff, she would first have to understand just how bad things were and receive advice on what to do about it.
“Where is Gannon?” she asked loud enough for all to hear.
“I am here, Lady Makenna,” came a strong, steady answer as a balding, thickset man with hawklike eyes stepped forward.
When Makenna was a child, the steward had seemed unapproachable and harshly demanding. Now he was the one man who could save her from the deep pit she had spent many years digging for herself. Gannon had been Lochlen’s steward since before she was born. He knew everything that went on at the castle and in the surrounding estates. Skilled at accounting and legal matters as well as personnel management, the old steward was her one hope of fulfilling Colin’s request.
Gannon had watched as Makenna fumbled with the baker and realized her mistake. It seemed she was finally ready to be lady of this grand castle. Of all the Dunstan daughters, she had been the one who had the heart, stamina, and backbone required to lead her people. Ula and Rona were self-centered and vain, Edna was too quiet and introspective, and Deirdre had been led through persuasion, focusing only on personal comforts and not what was best for the clan.
Unfortunately, like her sister, Makenna had foolishly married the arrogant Highlander. Their new laird spoke about rebuilding the Dunstan army and ensuring the clan’s safety, but there was very little evidence he would ever be able to do so. Without the clan’s support, Gannon had no doubt Colin McTiernay would be forced to leave Lochlen. Hopefully, Makenna would realize her folly and stay.
Before he could ask what she wanted from him, her voice rang out, her tone apologetic. “Ah…thank you very much for coming. I apologize for never before showing my appreciation, but I do, as does my husband. I promise to learn and assist you as I should have since my sister passed away. Please go back to your duties. Soon I hope to meet with each of you in a more convenient manner. Good day.”
Makenna watched for a moment as the crowd dwindled back to the various places from which they originated. Seeing the backs of Doreen and Gannon, she called out asking them to wait. “I truly meant what I said, but as you are both keenly aware, I don’t know how.”
“Milady, I am but a lady’s maid, why would you want my help?”
“Because you want what is best for this clan and its castle. I need someone both kind and honest to teach me how to work and converse with women. Will you help me with this?”
Doreen gave her a quizzical look. Her Ladyship wants help on how to be a woman. Lady Makenna had changed, even as recently as the previous evening. Whatever the reason, it was something worth supporting and nurturing. Lady Deirdre had been kind, but she had her faults and though no one said so, Lochlen had suffered for them. She had been unwilling to listen to her people’s needs. Maybe, just maybe, Lady Makenna was the mistress they had longed for.
Doreen shrugged one shoulder and replied, “Aye, I will do my best.”
Makenna turned toward Gannon and met his eyes. She saw hesitation and doubt in their rich brown depths. “Will you assist me? Teach me what I must know to help you and Colin?”
“Aye, where I can, milady.” His reply was short, but it gave Makenna hope.
“Where do you wish to begin?” Gannon asked.
Makenna indicated for Doreen and Gannon to follow her to the great hall. “First I must understand how much our staff has been depleted. I saw perhaps three dozen people. Is this not terribly low?”
Gannon nodded. “Including the armorers, sword smiths, and stable hands, the laird usually employs between seventy and eighty-odd hands to support the castle. Currently, we are staffed at somewhere between forty and fifty, depending on the number of people who left this morning.”
The number was even lower than she thought. Just over half of the people needed. Makenna looked toward a nodding Doreen. “Aye, milady, Gannon tells it correctly.”
Makenna folded her hands together. “Did all those people leave because of me? Because I am now Lady of Lochlen?”
Doreen grimaced. If her lady wanted honesty, then she would receive it. “Many left because of your husband; others chose to go because you willingly accepted him.”
Makenna rose from her seat and then stood motionless. Her insides clenched with fury. How myopic her people were, how limited their insight was to their situation. She might have much to learn from them, but the Dunstans had a great deal to learn from her as well. “Thank you for your honesty, Doreen. Where do you suggest we begin?”