Border Storm by Amanda Scott

harassing his men she would not be harassing him.
    Drinking his ale in a few hasty gulps, he set down the pewter mug and got up, striding to the service stair near the kitchen in order to avoid passing Lady Marjory. Taking the spiral stone steps two at a time with a sense of being chased, he reached the next level and the safety of his own bedchamber. Shouting for his man, Thaddeus, he pushed open the door and entered, slamming it shut behind him with a sense of having escaped. Then he grimaced ruefully when he saw that Thaddeus was already in the room.
    The plump, elderly man raised his eyebrows.
    “I don’t want to hear any of your gab,” Hugh said.
    “Nay, then, ye wouldn’t,” Thaddeus said. “So if ye’ll oblige me by sitting on yon stool, I’ll just pull off your boots and no say a word about naught. I’d a notion ye’d be along straightaway, so I’ve a clean shirt, doublet, and hosen ready for ye. Still, afore I shut me gob, will ye be wanting anything else besides them?”
    “Clean netherstocks,” Hugh said, sitting on the stool and extending his right leg. “The chains in these have rubbed my legs raw.”
    “Aye, well, they would,” Thaddeus said, kneeling to release the spurs from Hugh’s thigh-high leather riding boots. “But when it’s wearing chains in your hose or getting your leg cut off, I warrant ye’ll stand the chafing.”
    “I’m glad that you decided to hold your tongue,” Hugh said sardonically. Then he grunted in pain when Thaddeus braced himself and gave the first boot a hefty jerk. “Easy! What made you so certain that I’d be along so quick?”
    “Her ladyship being here,” Thaddeus said, looking surprised. He set the boot aside and reached for the other one. “I knew ye’d no want to be sitting down to sup wi’ her in all your dirt. ’Tis why I took the liberty o’ choosing a doublet and clean shirt and all for ye. She seems a pleasant sort, does Lady Marjory.” As he yanked off the second boot, he said, “Art sorry your uncle’s dead?”
    Hugh shrugged and stood up to doff his clothing. “I’ve scarcely laid eyes on him since I came of age,” he said, “and I never felt close to him. He did his duty by me, certainly, and I expect that I’ve benefited from his influence with the Queen. I’m grateful that he was an honest man, but that’s about all I can say of him.”
    “Seems a mite odd that Lady Marjory did not come with him in the old days when he stayed here,” Thaddeus said, setting the boots aside for cleaning. “Our Mistress Janet should ha’ had a lady here to show her how to go on.”
    “Aye, she should have, but Lady Marjory had daughters of her own to raise. I think, too, that she enjoyed life in London more than she would have here.”
    “Odd that she did not stay in London, then,” Thaddeus said, taking Hugh’s jack and breeches from him and handing him a clean shirt.
    “Aye,” Hugh agreed. He slipped the shirt on and reached for his hose. As he pulled them on, he said no more, not wanting to discuss his aunt further. Thaddeus had served him since boyhood and tended to take liberties in private. Although he had sense enough to show proper respect whenever anyone else was about, Hugh was not eager to make him a gift of his feelings about Lady Marjory.
    Thaddeus had turned to the washstand, but as he poured water from the ewer into a basin, the little man shot a look at Hugh from under his bristling eyebrows.
    “What?” Hugh said.
    “I were just thinking, is all. Now Mistress Janet be away in Scotland, ye might be glad of a lady in the house again.”
    “She fusses,” Hugh said.
    “Aye, well, she’s kind, is all, and while ’tis true enough that Mistress Janet were not one to fuss, I trow ye’ll no dare to shout at Lady Marjory the way ye did at Mistress Janet.”
    “I did not shout at her.”
    “Aye, well, have it your way, but ’tis been sorely quiet since she left.”
    Hugh could not deny that. He remembered days not long