On a horse, it took a lot less time to get home and before long, Kenna was up the steps of the Keep and in the door with Connor right behind her. She took her time weaving her way through the guards and did not look pleased because she wasn't. She wanted to see Laird Ferguson, not another dim-witted, overzealous, undesirable sop.
When she finally reached Kevin, she turned to face the strangers and then leaned closer to her laird. "Which one?"
Laird Sinclair was a thin man and his voice squawked as though he needed to clear his throat. "I am Laird Sinclair."
Kenna's eyebrows shot up. "You?" She had to mind her manners, so she curtsied, but it was obvious her heart was not in it. Again, she leaned closer to Kevin. "My knees will soon give out if I have to keep this up. I say the lads should curtsy and the lasses can stand stiff as a tree before them."
Laird Sinclair was aghast at such a thought. "Lads should curtsey?"
She ignored him and gave her full attention to Kevin. "Lads should do the wash. When a lass kneels by the loch to do the wash, her skirt always gets wet. Then she has to wash that as well. Lads should do the wash or at least wear the long skirts and let the lasses wear the short. They should..."
Kevin was not going to be able to bear this much longer without laughing, so he interrupted her. "Perhaps you should rest. It has been a long day already and you are tired."
Kenna nodded. She weakly curtsied to Kevin, half curtsied to the Sinclair and then walked up the stairs. She meekly opened the first door and softly closed it behind her.
Every eye followed her and when Laird Sinclair turned back to Kevin, he was appalled. "She is bonnie yes, but the lass is daft. I had not heard that." He was still muttering when he walked out the door with his guard right behind him.
Kevin could hardly wait until the man left, before both he and Connor doubled over with laughter.
*
The King of England's court was always filled with people and many messengers came to bring him word of this or that. He wore a knee length green tunic, white hose and a green cloak. Most of the men were dressed similarly while the women wore gowns with tight bodices, full skirts and long, billowing sleeves. He doubted this message was going to be any more entertaining than the others. It was from Lady Anna Stoneham.
"Stoneham," the king muttered. He was not a large man. In fact, next to a Highlander, he was quite puny. "Why do I know that name? What is the message?"