The Guardian by Diana Knightley

Five - Kaitlyn

Ihad finished the bulk of my chores, so I took Isla and a wide wool blanket down tae the grass north of the castle and spread it out with a view of the water’s edge and the work that the men were doing.

The sun was high. It had been cold so it was nice to be warmed on my face. The scent of flowers and grass and breezes mingled with the smell of loch and castle. I wondered what that would be called in a candle fragrance — Fresh and Old? Medieval Glen?

Isla and I picked flowers. I called Hayley on the two-way radio: “Hey babe, you should come out and see this, summer is here, for sure, hot hot summer.”

“I am doing crucial work today. As Lizbeth put it, the line between life and death is me in this boring storeroom. I think she’s just kidding, because this does not seem important — why, got a better offer?”

I was making a daisy chain for Isla’s hair but my gaze was across the grass on the men, who one by one were stripping off their shirts: Magnus, Quentin, James, Zach, Fraoch, building something — shirtless.

Sean and Liam even, helping to build.

I said, “It’s like an epic ‘hot guys in kilts’ calendar down here. Bring Emma and Beaty if you see them.”

A few moments later Hayley and Emma appeared. Hayley joked as she raced down the grassy incline to where I was sitting, all her bosom and skirts bouncing. “I heard it was an emergency — hot damn, those are some...”

Fraoch hefted a piece of lumber to his shoulders and carried it to the small wheelhouse. She said, “Woo wee.”

Emma stood with a hand on a hip, the other hand shielding her eyes. “Hot damn.”

I said, “Ain’t that the truth.”

Beaty rushed over, her camera around her neck, Mookie trailing behind. “Madame Hayley did ye want me tae take a photo of the scene for ye?”

Hayley laughed. “Not for me, no, silly girl, not for me. I want you, heck, you need to take photos for all of womankind. Look at what is happening! We have men, half a dozen, all out there in states of disrobed, all kinds of masculine, testosterone, boiling...”

Fraoch looked up and waved. She waved back. “Was I talking about something?”

The women sat beside me on the blanket, in the warm sun, little Isla toddling around, with Mookie following her dotingly, while we watched the men work. Lizbeth wandered up.

I whispered, “Uh oh,” to Hayley.

“What are ye doin’ out here in the...?”Lizbeth stopped and watched for a moment. “Och, I am finding it quite warm out here taeday.”

We moved over to make room for her on the blanket. “Is this what we are tae do?”

I said, “Not all day, but we ought to take a moment to appreciate what God has given us in the bodies of these fine men.”

She laughed. “I will try nae tae look at m’brothers, tae nae think on the other men of the group, but my husband, Liam. He does look verra fine, I believe.”

I said, “Then that’s a good enough reason to rest from our work and spend some time here in the sun.”

* * *

The men worked on their project all day.

We had many things to do as well, but...

The one thing I felt very irritated about was that the men’s work, as brutally, physically hard as it was, took them outside a lot.

They got to spend time out in the sun and weather.

My days were spent walking from one end of the dusty, dark castle to the other.

We had two-way radios, but they didn’t cut down on my walking. It seemed I always needed something at the far end of the castle, I would need something from the storeroom on the second floor, or someone would ask, “Did you tell Eamag...?” And because she didn’t have a radio I would head down to the kitchen. Or, “Did you check the pantry?” Or, “Look in the nursery...” Or, “He’s out in the courtyard, I think...”

Magnus’s work was backbreaking, mine was foot pounding. Every step on the cold hard stone of the castle — dark interiors, dusty rooms, mildewing walls. He was kind in that he let me complain and even gave me some nice foot rubs sometimes, too.

Because the thing about foot rubs? They often headed straight into pound town.

I chuckled to myself as I dressed for dinner.

* * *

It was very hard to dress in these uncomfortable clothes everyday. We complained a lot.

The one thing we did compromise on was modern shoes. We wore them hidden under our eighteenth century clothes. The men wore boots that were warm and well fitting. Most of us had shearling boots with proper rubber walking soles for inside the castle. We did our best to keep the styles plain but that meant no athletic shoes which were sorely, begrudgingly, irritatingly missed.

Us women had to force ourselves into the bodices, and we griped the whole time. They were tight, uncomfortable, and took forever to put on.

As Hayley said, “Would it kill them to invent a zipper?”

I was dressing in my favorite mantua, a floral silk, for dinner, when I overheard Magnus and Beaty in the hall. Magnus said, “Madame Beaty, I had another complaint on ye, for nae wearin’ a bodice and hitchin’ yer skirts up as if they were pants. Ye were shewin’ yer knees.”

She said, “I ken King Magnus, but tis more comfortable and I canna bear tae ken I could be comfortable but I am simply nae allowed tae be. I ought tae do as I like, daena ye think?”

Magnus sighed. “What can I do tae make ye comply with the rules?”

“I daena ken. Tis much better tae walk without the skirts around m’ankles.”

“But tis complicated for me tae answer for it. What can I do? I will do somethin’ for ye, if ye will keep yer skirts coverin’ yer legs.”

There was a pause where she considered, then her voice, “Fine, I get tae play the pipes after dinner, I hae some new songs and I want ye tae say I am verra good, and ye must look like ye enjoy it.”

* * *

He returned tae our room chuckling. “Och, I believe tis Madame Beaty who runs the castle.”

I said, “Yup, she wakes us up in the morn, and serenades us tae sleep at night. Was Mookie with her?”

Magnus said, “Aye, he was lookin’ up at me with his sad eyes the entire time I was speakin’ about her skirts. He is verra good at arguin’. I daena mind him so much though, tis her chickens — they are always underfoot.” He shook his head. “But I canna complain on them either, they lay verra good eggs.”

I laughed. “I agree.” I pulled at my stays trying to get the laces to loosen. “So she’ll be playing tonight?”

“Aye, twill be better than long recitations of her ballads, remember the last one, twas all about the pig?”

“It was very good though it went long.” I put my finger and thumb together. “She’s this close to persuading Ben to be a vegetarian and I wonder if Zach might get arrested for murder. I marvel at how patient you are.”

I shoved my feet in my boots.

“I hae asked for a great deal of sacrifice from everyone, the least I can do is listen tae them recite their odes tae farm beasts and applaud their songs.”

“I guess that is true.”

Done getting dressed, I took stock of Magnus. “Och,” I said, “You are red as a lobster.”

He said, “Every inch of me is on fire.”