When a Laird Loves a Lady (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 1) (27 page)

He hesitated, warring with himself.
It was as if his thoughts were cleaved in two. Part of him liked her idea of
how they should be and part of him feared it.

She waved a hand in his face. “Pay
my question no mind!”

“Marion—”

“Please dismiss it from your
thoughts,” she replied evenly.

“If that is what ye wish,” he said,
feeling as if he had taken the cowardly way out.

She sighed, then spoke again. “If
Froste and my father come here, could they defeat you?”

“Nay,” he said with force to
assuage her fears. He had confidence in his men.

“But they’d have more fighting
men.” Her voice shook with her worry.

“My clan is fierce, Marion, and
Dunvegan would be difficult to breach. And I have allies I could call upon.”

“Oh yes!” Relief washed over her
face. “King Edward.”

His mouth dropped open at her
words. “Nay. He’s using me to draw your father and Froste’s attention, but I’m
sure
yer king
will call on me if and when they turn their sights on the
throne.”

She scowled. “I suppose he’s no
longer
my king
.”

Iain smiled even as creases
appeared on her forehead. “Why would King Edward expect you to help him if he
will not help you?” she asked.

“Because he has David.”

“But I thought part of the reason
you married me was to get King Edward to discuss David’s release. I was a
condition.”

He didn’t like how she referred to
herself, though it was true. “I think of it like this,” Iain said. “Getting King
Edward to talk of David’s release has several parts to it, like gates that must
be opened. I married and opened the first gate, which brings me closer to the
next gate. Now Edward must tell me what more he requires, moving me closer to
talks with him.”

She quirked her mouth in obvious
thought. “What do you think will open the next gate?”

“Well, if yer father and Froste
attempt to take the throne, I’ll refuse to go to King Edward’s aid until he
draws up terms for David’s release, but if they do nae attempt the throne and
all settles, I imagine Edward will want money. Either way, I expect to be
summoned back to England or invaded by yer father and Froste in the near
future.”

Her hand fluttered to her neck.
“What do we do until then?”

He drew his wife against him once
more, wanting to feel her and wanting her to feel safe. “We account for all
possibilities, and then we ready for each so we are always victorious.”

Marion thought about what Iain had told her all the
way to the kitchen. If her father and Froste came here to wage war against Iain
and his clan, she would simply have to dissuade them from fighting. She could
not allow Iain or any of his people to be killed because of her. Beyond that,
she was haunted by the memory of the seer’s words. If the seer had seen a need
for Iain to fly the Fairy Flag, that had to mean her father and Froste would be
coming. And if Iain flew the flag, the seer had said it would mean he had
accepted his love for her.

Marion gritted her teeth to keep
from crying out. The seer had said the third waving could save the clan or
destroy it, and while Marion wanted Iain’s love, she did not want it if it
destroyed his clan.

As they neared the kitchen, Marion
turned to Bridgette, who’d been walking quietly beside her, and whispered so
Archibald would not overhear her. “I cannot let Iain ever wave the flag because
of my father and Froste.”

“Ye dunnae want Iain to love ye so
much that he’d fly the flag for ye?” Bridgette asked in a hushed voice.

“I don’t want him to go to war for
me,” Marion said, twisting her hands. “If it ever seems that he might, you must
vow to me that you will help me stop it.”

“So ye believe the prophecy?”

“I don’t know for certain,” Marion
whispered. “But I’m not willing to risk it.”

Bridgette nodded. “I feel the same.
I’ll do as ye ask. I dunnae want to go against the seer, if she may be
correct.”

“What are ye two ladies whispering
about?” Graham, Iain’s younger brother, asked as he came out of the kitchen and
nearly collided with them. Graham was the smallest of the MacLeod brothers—not
that he was small. The other men were simply like enormous oak trees while
Graham was a slender pine. Marion had only spoken to him for a few minutes
since arriving at Dunvegan. Of the four brothers, he seemed the quietest.

“I’m stunned to see a man in the
kitchen,” Bridgette teased.

Graham’s neck flushed red. His
friendly dark-brown gaze flicked over Marion briefly and then turned to
Bridgette, where it lingered. Marion inhaled slowly as she watched him staring
at Bridgette. He liked her! She’d bet her last coin on it, if she had a coin.

“Graham!” Bridgette, grinning
mischievously, snapped her fingers in his face. “Are ye woolgathering?”

Marion felt instantly sorry for
him. It was clear that Bridgette did not see him as a possible husband.

“Sorry.” Graham cleared his throat.
“I was in the kitchen asking Cook to make baked pears for the last course
tonight.”

“But that’s my favorite!” Bridgette
exclaimed.

“Is it?” Graham said, as if he was
surprised, but Marion didn’t believe the surprise was genuine. He’d known baked
pears were Bridgette’s favorite. He shrugged. “I had a strong hunger for it.
It’s my favorite, as well.”

“I kinnae believe that in spite of
all the meals we’ve all eaten over the years, Graham MacLeod, I never kenned
that about ye.”

His dark eyes grew even darker,
almost black. “There is much ye dunnae ken about me, Bridgette MacLean.”

Marion blinked. Graham was trifling
with Bridgette! Marion held her breath and prayed Bridgette would sense his
adoration and be gentle with him.

Bridgette laughed. “Such as?”

“Why do ye nae take a walk with me
in the garden and I’ll tell ye?”

Bridgette frowned, as if she could
not think of a single excuse to give him. “I dunnae think—”

“If Bridgette walks with ye, so do
I,” growled Archibald.

“I dunnae need a minder!” Bridgette
snapped.

Graham immediately stepped to
Bridgette’s side. “Ye heard the lady.”

“I heard,” Archibald snapped. “But
I’ve orders from the MacLean to nae leave her alone.”

“She’ll nae be alone,” Graham said
with a smirk.

“She needs a man by her side who
can defend her,” Archibald barked.

Oh good Lord! Marion saw a fight
brewing. She moved closer to the men, who were now standing so close they
almost touched. “You are both strong, bold men capable of defending Bridgette.
However, I need someone to come with me to move some things in the kitchen,”
Marion lied and stared pointedly at Archibald. She knew Bridgette likely didn’t
truly want to stroll with Graham, given she desired his older brother, but
Marion pitied him. Being the youngest and the smallest could not be easy among
this lot.

Archibald sighed but nodded. “I’ll
be happy to aid ye any way ye wish, my lady. I’m sure ye picked me because—”

“Yes, yes, come with me,” Marion
interrupted and hurried off, leaving Bridgette and Graham standing alone in
front of the kitchen doors.

The chaos of the kitchen was
shocking. She stood in the entrance with Archibald beside her and gaped at the
scene. A score of cooks ran around shouting at one another, and women who
surely had to be the bakers—if the dough covering their arms was any
indication—traded nasty and very loud barbs. Meanwhile, the poulterers—ten of
them that Marion could see—all seemed to be waving their knives and cursing
instead of actually preparing the birds for supper.

She glanced quickly at the shelves
and saw that many were almost bare and not properly stocked, either. Fiona may
have been mistress of the castle, but she clearly did not care about it, or at
least not the kitchen, which was odd since she would benefit from a well-run
kitchen.

Marion cleared her throat. When no
one even glanced her way, she turned to Archibald. “Can you whistle?”

He narrowed his eyes at her,
confused. “Aye.”

She’d tried for years to master
whistling, but the only way she could manage it was by inhaling air, and that
never produced the loud, shrill whistle she longed to make.

“Would you mind?” she asked him.

His brow stayed wrinkled for a
moment, and then it slowly smoothed and he grinned. “I’d love to.” He put his
fingers up to his mouth and let out the loudest, shrillest whistle Marion had
ever heard. She was awed, jealous, and immensely pleased.

The occupants of the kitchen came
to a complete standstill, and silence permeated the room.

Marion cleared her throat, suddenly
very nervous. “Good day. I wanted to present myself to each of you.”

“We ken who ye are, my lady,” said
a woman with salt-and-pepper hair and kind eyes. “Many of us were gathered by
the sea when the laird returned and presented ye.” The woman glanced around
her. “And those of us who were nae there have certainly been told of ye.” The
woman wiped her hands on her dark apron, leaving a trail of flour across its
front. She stepped forward and offered an awkward curtsy. “I’m Kyla, Neil’s
wife.”

“Neil!” Marion smiled, inadvertently
touching her ear as she thought of the man who Froste had mutilated twice now.
“I did not know he was married. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The woman grinned broadly.
“Likewise. Neil told me how ye risked yer life to help him, and then how ye
dressed his ear. I was hoping for the opportunity to thank ye, and tell ye
simply to ask if I can ever do anything for ye.”

Marion was aware that the entire
kitchen staff was listening to their conversation. This would be the perfect
time to tell them of her intention of being involved in the running of the
kitchen, but she needed to make certain she didn’t sound obtrusive. She wanted
them to see her as a peer, not a Sassenach that suddenly appeared and told them
what to do.

“Actually, Kyla, I would very much
like to learn about how things are done in the kitchen here, and in other areas
of the castle, as well. You see,” Marion said sincerely, “I was mistress of my
father’s castle in England, but I fear that is very different from overseeing a
grand Scottish castle. Would you help me learn?” Marion purposely met the
curious gazes of the women surrounding her, and she was very surprised and
pleased to see Elspeth standing among them. Marion settled her attention on
Elspeth. “Would you all help me?”

“Of course, my lady,” Kyla
immediately replied, and others, Elspeth included, quickly echoed their agreement.
“What would ye like to ken?”

Marion smiled. “Well, the first
thing I’d like to know is if you would all please call me Marion.”

“As ye wish it, my lady—er,
Marion.”

“Excellent!” Marion looped her arm
through Kyla’s. The woman’s eyes widened, but she did not pull away. “Are you
head of the kitchen?”

“I was,” Kyla murmured, bitterness
tingeing her voice. “But when Lady Catriona passed away, her sister Fiona took
her duties upon herself and declared that we were nae to do anything without
asking her first.” Kyla glanced pointedly at Elspeth. “But Fiona never comes to
the kitchen and kinnae be bothered with the needs of the kitchen.”

“Truly, she does nae want to be
bothered with much that does nae pertain to her own needs,” Elspeth added,
glancing shyly at Marion.

“I see,” Marion replied softly. It
sounded as though Fiona simply liked to lord over people. Marion took a deep
breath. “Well, I’m mistress now, and I firmly believe it’s good to have
different people running different things. You all know this kitchen and the
castle’s needs better than anyone. I’d like to appoint someone to head the
kitchen, who will then deliberate with me.” Murmurs of agreement filled the
room. She had been careful to use the word
deliberate
because she wanted
the women to understand that they had a voice and a say in what was to happen.

“Would everyone be in agreement
with my appointing Kyla as head of the kitchen?” Hearty agreement swiftly came.
“Wonderful!” Marion glanced sideways at Kyla. “Would you please counsel me as
to who you think should head the bakers, and the poulterers, and the other
areas of the kitchen?”

For the next hour, Marion followed
Kyla around the kitchen as the woman personally presented Marion to each person
whom she felt should run a part of the kitchen. At the end of the hour, Marion
was parched from all the talking and she noticed Archibald had found a chair in
a corner and looked as if he was about to fall asleep. She excused herself from
Kyla and went over to Archibald and assured him that he did not need to stay
with her. He offered a weak protest but then left at her behest. Once it was
just Marion with the kitchen ladies, who seemed willing and ready to accept
her, she felt a sense of real hope.

The women gathered around a large
rectangular table in the middle of the kitchen and partook in a light morning
meal. As they ate, Marion entreated them to tell her what they thought needed
improvement in the kitchen. The cooks themselves readily admitted the food was
not as good as it could be, but they were adamant that it was because things
were so disorganized and the food stores were not properly stocked. Marion told
them that she would oversee the stocking of the kitchen herself and that
together they would strive to please Iain. While he never complained of the
lackluster meals, he never complimented the food, either. Marion could tell it
had hurt the women’s pride, and having known just how it felt to want to be
noticed for your efforts, Marion was determined to see that Iain and the other
men were so impressed by the meals that they’d rave about them.

As she departed, she promised to
speak to Iain about gathering the proper spices and supplies the kitchen needed.
True to her word, Marion spoke with Iain that night as they lay in his bed.

“Iain, have you noticed the food at
Dunvegan tends to be bland?”

He frowned. “Aye. It used to be
much better.”

Marion wanted to lay the blame at
Fiona’s feet where it belonged, but she restrained herself. “The kitchen is not
being properly stocked. The cooks tell me they don’t have the herbs they need,
nor enough barley and rye to make the bread and mead. And they don’t have any
honey from the beekeepers to sweeten the food.”

“Well, then they should simply
procure some,” he said and pulled her toward him to kiss her on the lips. As
his hand slid lower to cup her breast, she gently pushed him away. She wanted
him very much, but she wanted to discuss this first.

“They are afraid to do so because
Fiona told them that she was head of the kitchen and she’d gather all the
supplies or appoint someone to do it, but she has not done so.”

Iain grunted. “Did ye tell them
ye’re mistress of the castle now and to follow yer command?”

“In my own way. I think it’s best
to show them they have nothing to fear by gathering what the kitchen needs
myself this first time, but I’ll need help.”

“Ye need me to help ye?” he
murmured as he nuzzled her neck.

She blinked at him in surprise.
“Heavens, no! I’d not ask you to waste your time on such matters, but I will
need someone to carry the heavier things. I wanted to make sure it would be
acceptable if I asked Archibald to help me.”

Iain stopped kissing her neck and
met her eyes. “Nay. I’ll help ye.”

“You’re sure?” she asked
skeptically, aware the offer was only made out of jealousy.