The Devil in Plaid(41)

Abby stepped forward then. “Do not hesitate to put me to work today.”

Fiona canted her head to the side as she considered Abby’s exuberance. “Ye’re particularly obliging.”

The young maid shrugged, a nervous smile playing at her lips. “Ye know me, I’m always obliging.”

Fiona and Esme exchanged glances before Esme cast her gaze heavenward. “She changes like the wind, this one. I never know what to make of her. Where would ye like to begin, my lady?”

“Help me dress, please. Then, after we break our fast, we will start in the great hall. The woven rushes need some sprucing. The sconces are coated with wax. And the bare stone walls are an eyesore.”

“Och, I’m tired already,” Esme said with a wink. “Ye ken I jest. I can’t wait to roll up my sleeves and get to work!”

“Come on,” Fiona called, hastening back to Jamie’s room to dress. Làidir was like a blank canvas and she the artist bursting to create. There was much to be done, but Fiona knew that by the day’s end, the MacLeod fortress would be magnificent.



Fiona sat at the high dais, awaiting Jamie. A messenger from his cousin had arrived just as supper was starting. Knowing that the laird and his captains could be delayed for some time, she bade everyone enjoy the meal. She, alone, abstained, waiting to share the venison stew and crusty bread with her husband.

While she sat, she happily scanned the hall. Fresh rosemary had been sprinkled on the rushes. The candle drippings had been scraped off the walls and sconces. She had found stacks of tapestries of varying sizes and themes rolled together in a room off the kitchens. They were taken out and beaten. Now, they adorned the walls, adding color and interest in every direction. Already, the room felt warmer and voices did not echo so loudly off the high ceiling.

Earlier in the day, she had sent some of the youngest children out to the meadowland beyond the fields to pick flowers. An hour later, they had returned with armfuls of yellow gorse, bell heather, and white mountain avens. Now, each of the trencher tables boasted a large vase bursting with brilliant color while several bunches hung along the walls to dry. Their scents mingled with the herbed rushes and trenchers of fine stew.

Steam rose up from the wide, wooden platters scattered among the tables. The scent of bannock, fresh from the ovens, made her stomach growl. She had worked out the week’s menu with Mary, a wiry woman with gray hair at her temples, who at first did not appear excited to have Fiona poking around in her kitchen. But by the end of their discussion, Fiona was certain Mary had warmed to her.

As far as Fiona was concerned, the day could not have gone better.

Coming up behind her, Jamie pressed a sudden kiss to her cheek. “My laird,” she gasped, smiling, her heart racing at the sight of his sculpted physique and penetrating eyes.

“I’m sorry I was delayed,” he said before taking his seat next to her.

Matthew and Alasdair joined them moments later.

She watched expectantly while Jamie scanned the room. When he turned and looked at her, a proud smile warmed his face. “Thank ye for all ye’ve done today.”

She smiled at his compliment. “Ye need not thank me, Jamie. Yer servants have done the lion’s share of work.”

“Aye, but under yer gentle direction. I do thank ye, Fiona, and not just for bringing out the tapestries and the flowers and…” He paused, inhaling deeply. “And the wonderful smell.”

Soft laughter fled her lips. “We sprinkled rosemary onto the rushes.”

He squeezed her hand. “Ye’ve brought me back to the happy days of my youth when both my parents still lived.”

“There is more that I wish to show ye,” she said. “On the morrow, will ye take a tour of the kitchens with me?”

He took her hand and brought it to his lips. But then she noticed the looks he exchanged with Alasdair and Matthew.

“What is it?” she asked.

All lightness fled Jamie’s face. His brow furrowed. “Kenneth’s men have landed on the shores of Loch Ewe. Yer father’s army is also ready to march.” He held her hand in his. “We must ride out and meet them. We’ll bring horses and wagons and the necessary supplies Kenneth could not bring over on the ships that carried his men.”

“How long will ye be gone?” Fiona asked.

“Three days. Alasdair will ride with me. I leave Matthew here to assist ye.”

A knot formed in her stomach. “When must ye go?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Within the hour.”

“Tonight?” she exclaimed, heartsore at not having another night to spend with him. But then she squeezed his hand. “Forgive my outburst. It was selfish.”

He leaned close and brushed his fingers down her cheek. “I will return to ye as soon as I am able. I take no pleasure in leaving yer side.”

She sat straighter, trying to keep her thoughts on duty and honor. “What ye do is for the good of our people.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I will miss ye.”

She now regretted that they had not consummated their union. What if something happened to him? Her chest tightened, making it difficult to draw breath.

“Do not fash yerself,” he crooned in her ear. Then he leaned close and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “I will return to ye, and I’ll bring home an army.”