together so I can run them through the loop. My Meghan's the weaver, but I can work a hook and wool almost as fast."
"Meghan is your wife?"
"Aye. And the mother of my bairns." The pride in his voice caused a twinge of longing to burn behind her breast.
"Brodie, Nate, Gordy, and the wee snap we call Jack," Remi supplied.
"You have four sons?" Viviana suddenly felt inept.
"Filthy hedge-pigs, every one o' them," Laird Kraig added from outside.
Remi chuckled. "S'truth. Jack is the only one who comes to the Great Hall with white palms, and 'tis only because my Meghan can still catch him."
Viviana forced a smile, not wanting Remi to see how his words pained her. She once wanted babes, but neither Radolfo nor Luciano did. It was for the best neither of them procreated. "Your children sound wonderful."
Remi snorted. "'Tisnae a word I would associate with the laddies, but I suspect my Meghan might agree."
"Are there many others in your clan?" Viviana asked, curious about the place she would soon call home.
"Clan Kraig is small compared to most. Sixty or more reside at Ravenhurst and mayhap another hundred live in cot-houses within the bailey wall. Then there are twenty or so landlords and tenant farmers who live outside the stronghold with their families."
Viviana thought those numbers high. Not nearly so many resided at the Medici Palace. Aside from Lorenzo's immediate family and the servants, the remainder of those who frequented the palace were guests—artists and poets who didn't often stay long. She doubted the people living at Ravenhurst spent their days painting frescoes or sanding marble. "What do they all do?"
"Most days the kinsfolk prepare for winter; cutting wood, drying meat, harvesting and such. When we are not doing that, we prepare for battle. Laird Kraig trains our warriors, while his brother, Keegan, tends to the landlords and maintains affairs with our King James. Of course there many others; the fletcher, the smith, the cordwainer, the hunters..."
"And the women? Have they duties as well?"
"Oh, aye. As I said, my Meghan is the weaver. Cora-Rose is a healer and manages the staff at the keep. Sela, the clothier," Remi leaned into her ear, "is the lassie Monroe is sweet on, but dinnae tell him I told ye. Then there are the cooks, the laundress, the apothecy." Remi continued adding names to occupations while he separated the wool into a pile of loose threads that filled Viviana's lap.
It seemed everyone had a responsibility at Ravenhurst.
While Sister De Rosa had provided Viviana with a suitable education at Spedale degli Innocenti , Viviana could no longer read, nor was she good with accounts. Radolfo and Luciano always managed the finances and the servants.
Viviana twisted the threads into knots, worrying over her place at Ravenhurst. She and Fioretta died vestments in the laundry, but that was hardly a skill. Sister De Rosa had taken Viviana to San Marco monastery once a week when she was young to help the garzoni prepare the walls with plaster, but she was certain there were few frescoes, if any, to be painted at Ravenhurst. None of these skills would gain her favor among Laird Kraig's kin. "I doubt you need a sculptor among your people. Are there certain duties expected of me?"
"Your duty is to provide the clan with an heir," Remi offered, the hint of sadness weighing his voice down.
Viviana's hand stilled on the wool. The kinsfolk expected the wife of their chieftain to provide him an heir even though she would die fulfilling that obligation. It was as if she were a sacrifice.
"M'lady is barren," Laird Kraig stated bluntly outside the carriage.
"S'truth?" Remi's surprise was evident in the stiffness of his body, but his tone was akin to relief.
Heat crawled up Viviana's neck and spread over her face. She wanted to spout back words just as hurtful, but feared she would only humiliate herself with the effort.
"S'truth," Laird Kraig answered for her, the same as Radolfo always did at
"Meghan is your wife?"
"Aye. And the mother of my bairns." The pride in his voice caused a twinge of longing to burn behind her breast.
"Brodie, Nate, Gordy, and the wee snap we call Jack," Remi supplied.
"You have four sons?" Viviana suddenly felt inept.
"Filthy hedge-pigs, every one o' them," Laird Kraig added from outside.
Remi chuckled. "S'truth. Jack is the only one who comes to the Great Hall with white palms, and 'tis only because my Meghan can still catch him."
Viviana forced a smile, not wanting Remi to see how his words pained her. She once wanted babes, but neither Radolfo nor Luciano did. It was for the best neither of them procreated. "Your children sound wonderful."
Remi snorted. "'Tisnae a word I would associate with the laddies, but I suspect my Meghan might agree."
"Are there many others in your clan?" Viviana asked, curious about the place she would soon call home.
"Clan Kraig is small compared to most. Sixty or more reside at Ravenhurst and mayhap another hundred live in cot-houses within the bailey wall. Then there are twenty or so landlords and tenant farmers who live outside the stronghold with their families."
Viviana thought those numbers high. Not nearly so many resided at the Medici Palace. Aside from Lorenzo's immediate family and the servants, the remainder of those who frequented the palace were guests—artists and poets who didn't often stay long. She doubted the people living at Ravenhurst spent their days painting frescoes or sanding marble. "What do they all do?"
"Most days the kinsfolk prepare for winter; cutting wood, drying meat, harvesting and such. When we are not doing that, we prepare for battle. Laird Kraig trains our warriors, while his brother, Keegan, tends to the landlords and maintains affairs with our King James. Of course there many others; the fletcher, the smith, the cordwainer, the hunters..."
"And the women? Have they duties as well?"
"Oh, aye. As I said, my Meghan is the weaver. Cora-Rose is a healer and manages the staff at the keep. Sela, the clothier," Remi leaned into her ear, "is the lassie Monroe is sweet on, but dinnae tell him I told ye. Then there are the cooks, the laundress, the apothecy." Remi continued adding names to occupations while he separated the wool into a pile of loose threads that filled Viviana's lap.
It seemed everyone had a responsibility at Ravenhurst.
While Sister De Rosa had provided Viviana with a suitable education at Spedale degli Innocenti , Viviana could no longer read, nor was she good with accounts. Radolfo and Luciano always managed the finances and the servants.
Viviana twisted the threads into knots, worrying over her place at Ravenhurst. She and Fioretta died vestments in the laundry, but that was hardly a skill. Sister De Rosa had taken Viviana to San Marco monastery once a week when she was young to help the garzoni prepare the walls with plaster, but she was certain there were few frescoes, if any, to be painted at Ravenhurst. None of these skills would gain her favor among Laird Kraig's kin. "I doubt you need a sculptor among your people. Are there certain duties expected of me?"
"Your duty is to provide the clan with an heir," Remi offered, the hint of sadness weighing his voice down.
Viviana's hand stilled on the wool. The kinsfolk expected the wife of their chieftain to provide him an heir even though she would die fulfilling that obligation. It was as if she were a sacrifice.
"M'lady is barren," Laird Kraig stated bluntly outside the carriage.
"S'truth?" Remi's surprise was evident in the stiffness of his body, but his tone was akin to relief.
Heat crawled up Viviana's neck and spread over her face. She wanted to spout back words just as hurtful, but feared she would only humiliate herself with the effort.
"S'truth," Laird Kraig answered for her, the same as Radolfo always did at
Similar Books
