‘Father Tremayne has kindly offered to bless the food before we eat.’
The steward called for silence and the priest said a brief prayer blessing the fine fare, the wine and the newlyweds. As an honoured guest, Father Tremayne then joined them at the laird’s table, taking a place on the bench to Kenzie’s left.
She greeted the man of God with a smile before Lachlan distracted her by piling their shared trencher with sumptuous morsels from each dish and encouraged her to have the first pick.
Servants splashed wine into their pewter goblets and though Kenzie enjoyed the fruity flavour, she only sipped from her cup now and then. Not so Father Tremayne, who drank the heady brew like water and kept the servants running to and fro to satisfy his thirst.
When the feast was well underway, Murdoch settled onto the bench beside the priest and the two conversed as if they’d known each other for years. Lachlan continued plying her with food, but every now and then his attention fixed on something Caelan said. During these brief snatches of time, Kenzie had the chance to look around the Great Hall and observe those within.
She searched for Ailsa and found her sitting two rows from the front. Her friend smiled at something the redheaded man beside her said. He grinned at Ailsa’s response. Seeing the young maid at ease in her new surroundings banished some of the worry stiffening Kenzie’s shoulders.
Aside from the ancient-looking weapons gracing the wall above the hearth behind her, there was naught decorating the hall, nothing that showed Clan Elliot’s wealth. Or lack of.
Putting a piece of tender meat into her mouth, she chewed and studied her husband’s people. The dresses adorning the womenfolk were of good quality wool. The men’s plaids and shirts were also fine, and not a single child looked ill-dressed or appeared to be cold.
Those who’d delivered the food and wine had found their seats once their task was done. But they didn’t all share a table set away from everyone else as servants did at Irvine. They were scattered throughout the hall, merrily enjoying the victuals and the company of those they chose to sit with.
From the smiles on every face, the hum of voices and rounds of laughter, the people of Clan Elliot appeared content. There was no segregation between servants and others. Was this the reason for the sense of uninhibited harmony suffusing the air? Such a feeling of serenity had been sadly lacking within the walls of Irvine Keep … within her life.
‘You seem distracted, wife.’
She stiffened at the quiet words spoken close to her ear. Her gaze sought out her maid. ‘Who is the redheaded man sitting with Ailsa?’
Lachlan shifted in his seat. ‘His name is Lundy. He is one of my best swordsmen.’
Kenzie suddenly recognised him as the man she’d mistakenly thought had been holding Ailsa prisoner the previous night.
‘If he looks familiar,’ Lachlan said, ‘it’s most likely because you met him moments before you swooned at the sight of my blood.’
Kenzie straightened. Despite the humour in his tone, being reminded that she’d cut him was unsettling; that she’d swooned, annoying.
‘You may rest easy where your friend is concerned. Lundy is a good man and will not harm her in any way.’
Kenzie didn’t know why, but she believed him. His reassuring words gave her the confidence to find out more about her husband through his people.
‘And the man on Ailsa’s other side?’
‘His name is Duff. Iona, Clan Elliot’s healer, tells me his name means “dark”.’
Kenzie studied Duff’s dark hair and serious expression. He appeared unapproachable. ‘His name suits him.’
‘Duff is not an Elliot by birth. Not that anyone knows for certain. But he has proven his loyalty numerous times since he stumbled out of the woods and attacked me.’
‘He attacked you, yet he resides beneath your roof?’ She turned and stared at Lachlan Elliot in disbelief.
His smiling eyes
The steward called for silence and the priest said a brief prayer blessing the fine fare, the wine and the newlyweds. As an honoured guest, Father Tremayne then joined them at the laird’s table, taking a place on the bench to Kenzie’s left.
She greeted the man of God with a smile before Lachlan distracted her by piling their shared trencher with sumptuous morsels from each dish and encouraged her to have the first pick.
Servants splashed wine into their pewter goblets and though Kenzie enjoyed the fruity flavour, she only sipped from her cup now and then. Not so Father Tremayne, who drank the heady brew like water and kept the servants running to and fro to satisfy his thirst.
When the feast was well underway, Murdoch settled onto the bench beside the priest and the two conversed as if they’d known each other for years. Lachlan continued plying her with food, but every now and then his attention fixed on something Caelan said. During these brief snatches of time, Kenzie had the chance to look around the Great Hall and observe those within.
She searched for Ailsa and found her sitting two rows from the front. Her friend smiled at something the redheaded man beside her said. He grinned at Ailsa’s response. Seeing the young maid at ease in her new surroundings banished some of the worry stiffening Kenzie’s shoulders.
Aside from the ancient-looking weapons gracing the wall above the hearth behind her, there was naught decorating the hall, nothing that showed Clan Elliot’s wealth. Or lack of.
Putting a piece of tender meat into her mouth, she chewed and studied her husband’s people. The dresses adorning the womenfolk were of good quality wool. The men’s plaids and shirts were also fine, and not a single child looked ill-dressed or appeared to be cold.
Those who’d delivered the food and wine had found their seats once their task was done. But they didn’t all share a table set away from everyone else as servants did at Irvine. They were scattered throughout the hall, merrily enjoying the victuals and the company of those they chose to sit with.
From the smiles on every face, the hum of voices and rounds of laughter, the people of Clan Elliot appeared content. There was no segregation between servants and others. Was this the reason for the sense of uninhibited harmony suffusing the air? Such a feeling of serenity had been sadly lacking within the walls of Irvine Keep … within her life.
‘You seem distracted, wife.’
She stiffened at the quiet words spoken close to her ear. Her gaze sought out her maid. ‘Who is the redheaded man sitting with Ailsa?’
Lachlan shifted in his seat. ‘His name is Lundy. He is one of my best swordsmen.’
Kenzie suddenly recognised him as the man she’d mistakenly thought had been holding Ailsa prisoner the previous night.
‘If he looks familiar,’ Lachlan said, ‘it’s most likely because you met him moments before you swooned at the sight of my blood.’
Kenzie straightened. Despite the humour in his tone, being reminded that she’d cut him was unsettling; that she’d swooned, annoying.
‘You may rest easy where your friend is concerned. Lundy is a good man and will not harm her in any way.’
Kenzie didn’t know why, but she believed him. His reassuring words gave her the confidence to find out more about her husband through his people.
‘And the man on Ailsa’s other side?’
‘His name is Duff. Iona, Clan Elliot’s healer, tells me his name means “dark”.’
Kenzie studied Duff’s dark hair and serious expression. He appeared unapproachable. ‘His name suits him.’
‘Duff is not an Elliot by birth. Not that anyone knows for certain. But he has proven his loyalty numerous times since he stumbled out of the woods and attacked me.’
‘He attacked you, yet he resides beneath your roof?’ She turned and stared at Lachlan Elliot in disbelief.
His smiling eyes
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