Free Sutherland's Secret by Sharon Cullen Page A

eating utensils and spilled food.
    “Best hurry and get it cleaned up afore Cook starts yelling,” one of the girls said to her as she passed by.
    Eleanor’s smile slipped. She had to clean up as well? She looked at the mess in a new light. How rude of these men to leave such messes for the women to clean up. Had they no manners? Did they not understand how hard it was to serve them, only to have to turn around and clean up after them before even getting a meal?
    She huffed out a breath and began gathering bowls. Watching the other women, she cleaned as they did. They were far more efficient at it then she would have been.
    Well, at least you learned something today. You learned to serve men food, and you learned to clean up after them.
It seemed a fine if somewhat depressing start to her new life.
    When she was finished, she was so tired she almost fell asleep in her own soup. She managed to take a few bites before dragging herself up the steps and falling onto her nice, soft bed and closing her eyes.
    The next day she returned. Her feet still hurt, and her arms felt heavy and cumbersome, but she was determined to keep at this. She found she was faster than the day before, but the men were no less slovenly in their eating habits, something that made her frown. Were her English counterparts just as horrid? Had she ever stopped to think about those who served her food? Had she even considered what happened to the plates and utensils after she rose from the table and left the dining room?
    She was cleaning up when an armed warrior flung open the front door, causing Eleanor to pause with a bowl in one hand and her tray in another.
    “English soldiers are coming,” he said breathlessly.
    The other serving girls began chattering all at once, but Eleanor’s heart had stopped. The bowl clattered to the table, spilling the dregs of that day’s soup.
    The warrior raced on, muttering to himself. Eleanor was frozen to the spot, her mind blank in the panic that had taken over her body.
    English soldiers were coming, and Sutherland wasn’t here.
    She looked around the room. The other girls continued to clean up, still talking about the soldiers, but Eleanor couldn’t move. They’d found her.
    She put her tray down and ran toward the stairs, thinking only of getting away. She couldn’t let them see her here. It would bring the Duke of Cumberland’s wrath down on these people, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
    She ran straight into Hannah.
    “Whoa, there.” Hannah grabbed Eleanor’s arms to steady them both. She looked Eleanor up and down, noting the servant’s attire. “What are ye up to?” Hannah asked, her brows raised.
    Eleanor shook her head and pushed away, picking up her skirts to run up the stairs. She stumbled into her room and raced to the window that overlooked the bailey. She had to get out. Get away from the castle. She couldn’t be seen here by the English soldiers.
    Oh, please, please, don’t let it be him.
    The bailey was quickly filling up with Sutherland’s warriors. Angus was directing them as if they were preparing for a siege. How much time did she have? Could she sneak out? But where would she go? Could she hide in the forest while the English were here? Her heart pounded and her palms were sweating. Her breathing was ragged, punctuated by small whimpers.
    A shout arose from the portcullis and a line of red-coated English soldiers rode through. Eleanor gasped. She was too late. They were here and she was here, and nothing,
nothing
good could come of this. She’d doomed them all and possibly cost them their lives. She watched the soldiers ride in. It seemed like a lot, too many, but in reality it was only about a dozen.
    And in the front, sitting tall, was Colonel Henry Blackwood.
    She turned and ran to the door, slamming it shut and placing the bar across it. She looked around wildly for a place to hide. All good sense left her. She was nothing but a trapped animal, terrified, needing