03 Highland Treasure by Amanda Scott

Author:Amanda Scott [Scott, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-07-22T16:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

“IT’S SNOWING SOMETHING STRONG,” Ailis told Mary as she drew back the bed curtains, “but I brought ye a Christmas bicker o’ new sowens tae warm ye, madam.”

The new form of address being a powerful reminder of her marriage, Mary wondered why she felt no different from the way she had the day before. Not only was it Christmas Day, but she was now and forevermore a married lady.

Accepting the wooden porridge dish that Ailis handed to her, she sniffed at its contents, a distinctive mixture of oatmeal husks and sittings boiled to the consistency of molasses that most Highlanders received early Christmas morning while still in their beds. When Mary had finished hers, she got up, shivering in the chilly air to perform her morning ablutions.

As she washed her face, she saw Ailis steal several sidelong looks at her.

“I expect you stayed with Master Duncan for a long time last night,” the maid said at last, very casually, as she bent to stir up the fire.

It was a good thing, Mary thought, that Ailis was not looking at her just then, for she could feel her cheeks burning. She nearly denied having done any such thing before she realized that she would be wiser to keep silent. The last thing she wanted was for the servants to begin talking about her relationship with her husband. Duncan’s man, Hardwick, would not say a word about his master’s business, however, and she did not think Ailis would dare press her now to say more.

She said with quiet dignity, “I will wear the dark blue wool, Ailis, please.”

Her cheeks reddening, the maid said hastily, “Aye, madam, and will ye be wanting a cap tae wear, as well?”

About to refuse, Mary changed her mind. “I believe I will, if you can find me a suitable one. I am a married lady now, am I not?”

“Aye, madam, and the mistress has any number of lovely ones. Nay doot she’ll be that glad tae lend ye one, so ye can wear it tae the kirk.”

Half an hour later, her hair tidily arranged beneath a fetching lace cap, Mary descended to the dining parlor, where she found Balcardane, his wife, and his son, augmenting the Christmas sowens with a substantial breakfast. Serena evidently had either chosen to sleep late or was dressing even more carefully than usual for kirk.

Lady Balcardane said enthusiastically, “Good morning, my dear. How very becoming that gown is on you. I declare, it never became me so well.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“What the devil have you got on your head?” Duncan demanded.

“I am wearing a lace cap, sir, as you must be able to see for yourself.” Turning to Balcardane, she added, “Good morning, my lord. Happy Christmas.”

Balcardane returned her greeting, but he was watching his son. Although both men had risen to their feet at her entrance, only Balcardane resumed his seat.

Duncan remained standing, regarding her critically. “I don’t like that thing,” he said. “I’d rather look at your hair.”

Lady Balcardane protested, “But it is the fashion, Duncan.

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