Davina eyed her with a low whistle. “The Laird willnae ken what hit him.”
“Davina!” Kristen cried, heat rising to her face. “It is decent and proper, nothing more.”
“Aye,” Davina said, her eyes bright. “Decent, proper, and sharp as a blade if need be.”
Kristen folded her arms. “Ye came for a reason, I hope.”
“I did.” Davina sat on the edge of the bed, her skirt pooling around her. “Now that the Laird is back, we will soon have chiefs visiting. Neighboring lairds, traders looking to strike deals, a priest or two who want their share of venison. We will need to prepare more beds and more bread. I have already sent word to the village for extra loaves.”
Kristen seized on the topic like a rope. “Good. I will speak with the kitchens about the game and the root cellar. We have half a wheel of cheese that needs finishing. I will also ask the maids to sweep the guest rooms.”
Davina nodded. “That is the lady of the castle speaking.”
“It isallthat is speaking,” Kristen said. “Visitors daenae bother me either way. I only wish to be presentable.”
Davina hummed, sounding unconvinced. “Aye. And the lady of the castle has nay interest in impressing her husband.”
Kristen nearly choked on her breath. “Absolutely nae.”
Davina grinned. “Of course.”
Kristen turned back to the mirror, smoothed her hair, fixed a pin, removed it, then fixed it again. “The dress is fine because it fits. The color is fine because it is sober. The Laird willnae notice.”
“Ye think so?” Davina arched an eyebrow. “Men notice less than they should and more than ye wish.”
“I didnae dress for him,” Kristen insisted.
Davina cocked her head. “Then for whom?”
“For meself,” Kristen said, lifting her chin.
Davina’s smile softened. “Good answer. Keep it.”
Kristen let out a breath that failed to steady her. “Is there news of the bairns?”
“Already waiting for ye at the table, along with the others,” Davina assured her.
A laugh escaped Kristen’s lips. “Good. That is one problem I daenae have to deal with tonight.”
Davina’s gaze flicked to the window, where evening pressed low. “The courtyard looks different with the Laird around. I daenae ken if ye’ve noticed. Everyone seems to be on their best behavior.”
Kristen busied her hands with the shawl. “Aye, I noticed. I suppose once ye’re a laird, it doesnae matter how many years ye spend away.”
Davina looked back at the line of gowns. She trailed a finger over the blue sleeve, then the green one. “When the councilmen arrive, they will first look at him, then at ye. That is how it goes. If they find ye steady, they will keep their voices soft. If they find ye brave, they will keep their tempers in check.”
Kristen’s heart thudded once. “I have been handling the councilmen for years now. I ken how to deal with them.”
“Nay, ye daenae. Ye only ken the version when the Laird isnae around,” Davina sing-songed, unrepentant. “But daenae worry.The clansfolk will always remember who kept them warm when their Laird was away.”
Kristen looked down at the floor. “I only did me duty.”
Davina stepped closer and took her hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Aye. And ye did it well.”
Kristen gently pulled free, then smoothed her bodice as if the motion alone could calm her. “It is only dinner,” she said quietly. “He will sit, he will eat, then he will leave.”
“Perhaps,” Davina allowed. “Or perhaps he will look.”
Kristen rolled her eyes, though the butterflies in her stomach would not cease fluttering. “He can look at the stew; it needs his attention more than I do.”
