Janet had grown into a truly wild beauty, as was kindly put by the old knights of the hall. The women, as is often the case, were more critical. Arrogant, willful, foolish, stubborn, and disobedient were more oft used by the clucking female tongues. Her mother had died a few short years after her brother Alec was born. Another baby boy, he didn't survive either. It had aged her father very quickly. While Alec was still being groomed for Lairdhood, at 17, Janet had run wild and run things her way for years.
She breezed into the kitchen from the yard like a chilly spring breeze; her dark, unbound curls bobbing, her court of ladies in her wake like a flock of birds. Through her kitchen and down into the hall, she flounced onto the hearth rug with her dog, Bridie, a descendent of Brute, slapping out a welcome with her tail. She began sorting through the wild berries they had picked as the other young ladies took up their embroidery. She picked out the sticks and bugs and leaves. Bridie nuzzled her head into her mistresses lap. Soon the chitter of talk amongst the ladies had begun. It began with the same old stuff and Janet held her tongue. Her thoughts as the young and not so young men where talk of and their suitability discussed and weighed. As the tone of the conversation changed to more secretive and dark whispers, Janet turned her attention to what was being said. "No one has been there is years, the Laird willna allow it," said Cait "Yet the gardens are always attended so fair.
" Oh some ha been thare," Lessie lowered her voice," ol farmer Fletcher's daughter used ta creep off thare. Spent an awful amount of time int he wood near by. Now she's gone of ta live wit her auntie by the loch. Been thar nigh on nine months, reckon she'll be back again soon." She looked about with a pointed expression.
"I heard she's all but pinned away aunts or no." Broken in timid little Jinny, pulling her fair hair off her face, "They say....well they say Carterhaugh is haunted by a lovetalker. That he's been there, or court to the queen of the Fae for weel o'er 20 years." She rushed out the words as though she was hurrying their escape before they were found.
"The Laird would not approve such talk in this hall," Nurse nearly bellowed, " This is a Christian house and the Fae are nought but demons in fair clothes. " She sniffed. "Likewise they hear when we speak of them, and they come wit trouble. "
Janet returned to the berries, all excitement now gone again from the prattle. She stared into the flames as a seed took root, more from the stomping of it that the laying of it. A willful and curious flame began in her ungoverned mind.
***
Tom had finished checking the new seed, he was so encouraged by the results. They were all potable and showed nice growth. Everything was so very encouraging, and he had wonderful news to pass to Her Majesty for once. Tom wiped his brow with the back of his wrist, just above his work gloves. He could smell the dark rich soil. Tom was tall, with a muscular yet slender build. His straight black hair and eyes a sure sign of his half Japanese heritage. IF only he could be sure the seeds could survive in the polluted soil with acid rain. Stage two, Fewer seeds and tubers have passed that test. The computer made the annoying ringing sound that let him know he was summoned again. With a sigh he took off his gloves and and tucked them in his back pocket. and walked to the desk. tapping the mouse the screen sprung to life and his perfectly tanned, perfectly manicured, perfectly Park Ave boss popped into view with her enduring scowl in place. Like the stereotype of her class and time she looked like she had just discovered a nasty bug and you were it.
"Well?" She never wasted time on small talk not with anyone who she wasn't in control of.
"Nice to see you, Tallulah. Looks like the Martha's Vineyard was nice this year. At least the tanning beds there must have worked." Tom, sardonically said. Tallulah didn't twitch so much as a muscle. With a sigh Tom continued, "The latest batch has done well in lower light conditions, however I haven't gotten them through the rotten soil yet. The seeds are pure genetically and If they are strong enough to thrive in the modern conditions we may see a great decrease in hunger. Africa is less contaminated and a bit..."
"Africa is too poor to pay for anything we could see a profit from," She snapped, cutting him off. Tallulah's daddy dearest was the CEO of the largest company still remaining in what was left of the USA.
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