The sad fact was she’d wasted far too much time pining after a man who’d done naught but spurn her since her arrival. She refused to squander any more. Instead, she would follow his unwitting advice and occupy her time with tasks around the keep. Surely, there were chores that required her aid.
Oh, Aaron had no notion of the allowance he’d permitted her. If anything, he might come to regret his thoughtless words.
She entered the great hall, spotting Gertie and Kate seated at a rear trestle table across from Connor and Niall. As she swept through the hall, she nodded and smiled at curious clan members whose wary gazes watched her every move. In truth, she’d more than likely startled them the morn before with her bold outburst.
Gertie glanced up from her bowl and a wide grin cut grooves in her aging cheeks. “Good morn to you, lass.”
With a shy smile, Kate shoved a covered dish toward Mairi. “I saved you a bowl of porridge, my lady.”
She resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the maid’s gracious offering. “Thank you, Kate. That was kind of you.”
Settling on the bench alongside Connor, Mairi lifted the lid and darted a surprised glance at Gertie.
“I took the liberty of adding a bit of my honey. Hope you do not mind.”
Mind? She nearly sprang across the table and kissed the older woman on the cheek. “You most assuredly have my thanks, Gertie.”
The older woman’s kind heart shone through her scowls, barked words, and rough exterior.
She cut a quick glimpse at Connor from the corner of her eye. “Did you manage to find your bed last eve?”
With his mouth set in a pursed line, he flicked her an annoyed glance. “Aye, with no help from you,” he muttered. “I bedded down on the floor of my own damned chamber since Aaron claimed my bed as his own.”
Chuckling at his admission, she grabbed her spoon and dug into her porridge. Once again, the blasted young man had attempted to sneak into her chamber. Though, he’d promptly discovered she’d barred the door. After a few choice, muffled curses, he’d stomped away, leaving her to laugh at his thwarted plans.
“I’m glad to catch the four of you together.” She spoke in between bites of porridge. “I’d hoped to speak with all of you concerning a few matters.”
Each one of them wore varying shades of suspicion. ’Twas as if they held their breaths in dread while awaiting her pronouncement.
Downing another spoonful, she sipped ale from her tankard. She aimed a bright smile at Connor. “After speaking with your brother and a restless eve, I’ve arrived at a decision.”
“Uh…” Connor asked with a wary tilt of his head. “Such as?”
“As none of you know me well, I would like to explain. For years, I’ve helped around my brother’s keep. Even after he married, Arabella and I shared responsibilities. I’m used to having tasks to occupy my time.”
In truth, after Calum married his wife, Mairi wondered of her place in her brother’s keep. ’Twas a mercy Arabella had never expected her to stand aside and ignore the duties she’d overseen for years. Though, little by little, she surrendered more of her obligations to her brother’s wife, as the softhearted, sensible woman was, in fact, the rightful mistress of the MacGregor Keep. ’Twas the proper course of action for Mairi to take.
But, what would the future yield for her once there was naught left to hand over? Of course, after she married Patrick in the spring, she would become mistress of her own keep. Alas, the notion hardly dampened her dread a sliver.
Shoving aside the unappealing thought, she pasted on a grin. “So, while I have no choice but to remain, I’d hoped to help improve your keep in some ways if I can.”
Connor narrowed his eyes. “I’m not quite certain that’s what Aaron meant, Mairi. I’m sure he merely spoke in haste.”
“Oh, I’m sure he did, but ’tis his problem.” She lifted her chin. “He stated he did not care and I could do as I wished. Therefore, I intend to.”
Gertie and Kate exchanged concerned glances while a stern-faced Niall lowered his red brows in displeasure.
Ignoring the large man, she continued, “I’m more than capable to oversee a few tasks your brother has neglected in his absence from the hall.”
“Do not be so hasty to judge Aaron, my lady,” Niall warned in a gruff murmur.
“Wait a moment, Niall,” Connor said. “I’d like to hear what she has to say. If anything, mayhap, her actions might draw Aaron out.”
Mairi frowned at his words. ’Twas not her intent to goad a reaction from Aaron. “I did not mean—”
“What did you have in mind?” Connor leaned closer.
Niall whacked the young man’s arm. “Your brother shall not like this one bit.”
“Mayhap, he should act as laird in that case.” He waved away Niall’s warning and focused on Mairi. “Please continue. I’m interested to hear your thoughts, my lady.”
A weighted sense of foreboding took up residence in her belly. For a moment, she considered abandoning her plans altogether. But why should she? ’Twas not as if Aaron wanted her there anymore than she wished to remain. If this was the only way she could while away the time until she returned to her family, then so be it.
She nodded at her half-eaten bowl of porridge. “Take the fare, for a start. ’Tis blasted awful.” With a quick glance at Gertie, she amended, “Not with your sweetened concoction but, alone…the food in the hall’s ghastly.”
Leaning forward, Niall propped his elbows on the table. His direct stare bore into her. “As we do not know you, you do not know us either, my lady. Many things remain the way they are for a reason,” he spoke in a hushed, chiding tone. “True, we’re not a wealthy clan like you MacGregor lot by any means. Nor shall we ever be, but with dwindled coffers and resources, we’ve made do with what we have. ’Tis no fault of Aaron’s or anyone else’s in this hall. ’Tis unkind of you to assume we’ve no desire to better ourselves.”
“I would never assume such,” she rushed to soothe the man’s upset. “’Twas not my intent to cause offense, Niall. I understand the difficulties your clan has faced. Believe me when I say, the MacGregors have undergone their fair share over the years. I merely wished to help improve the keep in small ways with the resources you might not realize you already have at hand. At times, a small change or two can make a significant difference.” As evidence, she pushed her bowl across the table toward him. “Try a bite.”
Jerking his head, he leaned away. His eyes briefly widened in surprise before he shook his head. “Nay, thank you.”
“Surely, one bite shall not harm you. You’re a large lad. Come on, you shall survive one, wee bite.”
“Lad?”
Mairi almost laughed at his appalled expression. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and peered at Kate, who ducked her head, hiding a smile behind her hand.
The man had no notion Mairi had learned the tactic of relentless badgering from her irksome cousin, Liam. She would force the spoon down Niall’s throat, if necessary. Inching the dish closer, she urged, with a wink, “Go on. Try it. Just one bite.”
“Saints alive, woman.” Irritated, he grabbed a spoonful and shoved the porridge in his mouth.
Mairi lifted an arm and propped her chin on her hand, watching the moment the sweet flavor reached Niall’s tongue. His dark scowl eased, and he reached for another spoonful.
Grudgingly, he admitted in a low rumble. “’Tis good.”
Pleased to prove her point, she flourished a hand. “There you have it.”
Eyeing the exchange, Connor reclined in his chair. “So, you wish to add honey to the porridge?”
“Well, that and more. Mayhap, a few other changes.”
“What other changes?” Kate asked as curiosity lit her young, pretty features.
Mairi shrugged. “I thought a light spread of rushes might help. Mayhap, even a handful of embroidered cushions, a tapestry or two.”
“The ground’s covered with snow. Where are we to get fresh rushes?” Co
nnor frowned.
“You have a store of herbs, do you not, Gertie?”
The old healer nodded. “I’m certain I could spare a few.”
“That would be most kind of you.” Mairi touched the older woman’s arm. “I’d hope to have your aid with another matter, too.”
The woman quirked a gray brow.
Mairi swallowed her apprehension. “I thought you and Connor might speak to Glinda with me.”
“Me?” Connor blurted.
“Why the devil should I speak to the horrid woman?” Gertie huffed out.
“Because of your knowledge of herbs and spices. Who better to explain how to season fare?” Mairi speared Connor with a look. “And you must speak to her in your brother’s stead.”
“Aye, I know herbs and spices because I’m a healer, not a cook, lass.” She snorted. “Besides, Glinda will not listen.”
“Have you thought of replacing her with another cook?” If the woman was so troublesome, why not?
The four gaped at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses.
“Not if you don’t wish Glinda to poison us,” Kate muttered.
Holy Mother, what was amiss with Glinda?
Since Mairi was a wee child, she’d never shied away from meeting a challenge head on. Why should now be any different?
Determined, she rose to her feet. “Let’s pay her a visit, shall we?”
The four sprang upright in unison, earning the attention of the entire hall. Connor grabbed the sleeve of Mairi’s woolen shirt to halt her.
“Where are you going?” he asked in a furious whisper.
“I wish to meet Glinda,” she explained.
A guffaw slipped from Niall and she peered at the man in surprise. ’Twas the first time he’d muttered a sound of amusement in her short acquaintance with the man. From his harsh demeanor, ’twas doubtful he did so often.
“There are other matters that require my attention.” With a smirk, he stepped away from the trestle table.
Connor spun toward him. “You’re truly leaving?”
“So it would seem,” Niall called out as he stalked from the hall. “Godspeed.”
Annoyed, Connor shifted his glare to Mairi. “You wish to do this, in truth?”
“Aye, or I would not have said so.” Was he scared of the woman? “Where’s your boldness this day? You had no trouble facing a dangerous bluff in a snowstorm.” She snorted. “The clan cook cannot be that terrible.”
“I’d rather face the bluff,” he muttered. “Come on, then. Let’s get this over with.”
*
WHATEVER MAIRI EXPECTED when she entered the kitchens was not the sight that met her. Her steps faltered as she took in the full scene before her. ’Twas utterly spotless and clean, the very definition of order. The savory aroma of baking bread filled the large, dual chambers.
On one end, a handful of maids worked side by side, prepping vegetables, breads and other fare for the evening meal, along a length of scarred tabletop. A massive pot bubbled over the flames in the hearth near the rear entrance. Utensils and cooking instruments neatly lined the walls while labels marked barrels of grain sealed and stored from the elements and vermin. ’Twas the kitchens of woman who knew all about cooking. Of that, Mairi had no doubt.
As soon as she spied a tidy row of phials and jars of countless herbs and spices displayed on shelves, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Despite Niall’s suggestion otherwise, the clan hardly lacked for resources in this particular instance as the man claimed. In fact, the varying assortment of seasonings might even rival that of the MacGregor’s cook, Agnes.
“Where’s Glinda, Moira?” Connor asked a middle-aged woman kneading a sizeable lump of brown dough.
Swiping the back of her hand over her brow, Moira called over her shoulder, “Glinda, Connor wishes to speak with you.”
Moments later, a stout, gray-haired, ruddy-cheeked woman toddled out of the larder, carrying a large, covered container. Familiar deep grooves cut her features into a guise of perpetual annoyance.
’Twas the very same look Mairi had grown accustomed to since her arrival. Unable to hide her astonishment, she gawked at the old woman. She peered between Glinda and Gertie thrice before she found her tongue.
Craning her neck to glance at Gertie, she blurted, “You have a twin sister?”
Gertie tossed her a wry stare, but ’twas Glinda who barked out, “’Tis plain enough to see. And who the devil are you?”
Connor moved in front of Mairi. “Good day to you, Glinda.” He waved a hand behind him. “This is Lady MacGregor. She shall be in residence with us until the pass opens.”
“MacGregor,” Glinda muttered. “Saints, tell me that boy has not stolen any more women? Your brother shall be the death of us.”
Even though Aaron had treated her poorly since her arrival, Mairi ground her teeth at his disparagement. ’Twas not as if he were given much a choice in the matter the prior year when Longford murdered Aaron’s father and forced him into a situation out of his control. Without a doubt, Connor would’ve joined his father had his brother not carried out Longford’s foul demands.
With a scowl, Connor straightened his shoulders. “You know better than to speak such drivel, Glinda. Aaron has done naught but sacrificed for this clan. He would never harm us. You’d do well to remember that.”
“As you say.” Rolling her eyes, she cut a harsh glare at Gertie. “Why are you here?”
“I’ve come on behalf of my mistress.” Gertie crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “There’s a matter we wish to discuss.”
Mairi blurted, “Nay, I’m not—”
“Oh?” Glinda mirrored her sister’s stance. “And what would that be?”
“We’ve come to speak of the fare served in the hall.”
Glinda lifted her chin and narrowed her beady eyes to tiny slits. “What of it?”
Sweet Mother, would the two sisters come to blows over naught but a handful of words?
Compelled to defuse the mounting tension, Mairi stepped around Connor and affixed a smile to her lips. She attempted to charm the cantankerous woman. “While we appreciate the efforts you’ve taken to serve the hall each day, we merely wished to ask if you might consider better seasoning for the fare you prepare. Surely, a dash of herbs and spices might enhance the flavor?”
Glinda swept an assessing eye over her from head to toe. “Mayhap, but ’tis not your place to tell me how to cook in my kitchens, is it?” Her head bobbed from side to side as she spoke. “I’ve worked in these kitchens since I was a young lass, and I’ve never once received a speck of gratitude for the countless years of work I’ve done. Instead, I’ve gotten naught but grief and headaches from an arse of a laird before the damned English stormed through my kitchens”—she flapped an arm at the row of women preparing food—“trussed us up in the buttery, and murdered the old fool.” She pointed a gnarled finger at Connor. “And now your brother refuses to acknowledge his clan. For more than a year, we’ve had neither guidance, nor steadying words from him. In fact, we’ve had naught but silence. If you ever catch sight of the man in the first place. How much more must we endure? How much more shall we be beaten down? The clan worsens in his absence and you worry with how the damned food’s seasoned?”
The vehemence in the woman’s speech stunned Mairi. In some inexplicable way, she sympathized with the cook’s well-founded anger.
Why did Aaron not speak with the MacRaes? Had he merely turned his back on his clan? His actions or lack thereof suggested that was precisely what he’d done. ’Twas hard to reconcile that the man she’d known the year before would act in such a disgraceful manner. The Aaron she’d once met would have done anything within his power to ease the burden on his clan.
She cast a glimpse at Connor to gauge his reaction. With slumped shoulders, he stared ahead at the fire across the chamber in mute silence, his obvious unease with the cook’s words evident.
At a loss with how to address Glinda’s rightful frustrat
ions, Mairi peered at Gertie, meeting her dejected gaze. On this matter, it appeared Gertie would not argue with her sister, which disheartened Mairi even more. Searching her mind for words adequate to soothe the cook’s complaints, she faced Glinda, opening her mouth to speak, but Gertie breeched the strained hush.
“I’ve always appreciated your hard work, Glinda. Not for one day have I ever thought ’twas an easy task.” Dropping her arms at her sides, Gertie paced closer. “’Tis truth, I miss the foods you used to cook when we were younger.”
The deep grooves in Glinda’s wrinkled face eased a fraction. “You do?”
Sensing a shift in the charged air, Mairi seized her chance. She asked Gertie, “Your sister’s a fair cook?”
“Better than fair,” Gertie asserted with a nod. “Glinda’s the best cook I know.”
Mild surprise shifted over the cook’s features. “In truth?”
Gertie snorted. “Of course, you stubborn woman. What I would not give for a few of your sweet oatcakes. I’ve not tasted them in years.”
To Mairi’s surprise, Glinda’s cheeks lifted with an honest to God smile.
“Well, mayhap, if you did not argue with me at every turn,” the cook scolded. Swiping her hands over her apron, she glanced around the kitchens. “I suppose it would be no trouble to make a batch or two.”
Gertie said, “I would like that.”
With a level of caution, Mairi moved closer to the two sisters. “Truly, I meant no offense, Glinda. I’m sorry you and your clan have endured so much. ’Twas foolish of me to stride into your kitchens, making assumptions and demands of you. I merely wished to help in some way while I’m here.” She shrugged. “After tasting Gertie’s flavored honey in my porridge, I thought enhancing the fare in some ways might bring a small measure of contentment to your clan.”
Glinda darted a glance at her sister. “You let her try it?”
With a sheepish grin, Gertie nodded.
“’Tis my concoction, you know,” Glinda informed Mairi. The old cook paced closer and gazed up at her. “Now that I understand your intentions, I must agree with you, lass. ’Twas remiss of me not to take better care of my clan. I’ll admit I’ve allowed naught but sheer stubbornness to guide my actions of late.”
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