“Ye fit well here,” Mairi said, wiping flour from her cheek. “The keep has nae had a lady in many years. It shows.”
“The curtains…” Ariella let slip, caught herself, then sheepishly looked up in time to watch Mairi’s face completely change. One second she was timid, the very next, she was bursting at the seams with laughter and wiping her eyes.
“The curtains! Utility over aesthetic to be sure!”
A knock on the threshold of the kitchen startled both of them, and they faced the young boy standing there.
“Miss Mairi, the potatoes have just arrived.”
“Thank ye, laddie. And the count?”
“Eight barrels, as ye’ve requested.”
Ariella paused, glancing around the kitchen.Eight barrels of potatoes?The stores were full of dried meats, barrels of ale, baskets of apples that looked fresh from the last harvest.
“I am surprised we have room in the store room for eight barrels of potatoes! Ye’ll have to show me!” Ariella said lightly, returning to her stirring, but curiosity pulling on every syllable.
“Oh, aye. The store room is vast, indeed, but we’ll mostly prep this order.”
“Oh! Are ye preparing for a feast?” Ariella asked lightly. “It seems ye have more food than needed for the usual winter meals.”
Mairi brightened. “Aye. A feast. Tomorrow.”
Ariella’s stirring stopped abruptly.
“A feast tomorrow?”
“Aye,” Mairi said. “Tomorrow.”
Her heart fluttered. “Oh. Did the laird tell ye what we are to be celebrating?”
Mairi blinked. “Oh aye, and then he told me precisely what he wanted to be prepared. Ye ken the laird. I had to get the order out same day, and pray the vegetables could be sourced on short order.”
It would make sense if he were to throw a feast for his clan to celebrate our wedding, I guess.
Ariella murmured just as much, and Mairi’s brows lifted high. Then she coughed delicately into her fist. “Ah… well… nay. It is for the O’Douglas visit.”
The spoon slipped from Ariella’s hand and clattered against the pot.
“Me lady,” Mairi said, startled, “are ye unwell?”
Ariella barely heard her. Her stomach dropped into her boots. Hot anger surged up to replace the cold shock.
“Oh,” she said faintly. Then again, louder, “Oh.”
He did not tell me. He gave his word. Our rules were clear. He promised truth.
“Tomorrow,” she repeated. “Laird O’Douglas arrives…tomorrow.”
“Aye, I remember now. I had forgotten,” she lied to the cook. No need to show strife in the marriage between the laird and lady to the staff. She knew better than that.
Still. A pulse of hot anger shot through her. Not fear.Anger.Fiercer than anything the curtains had stirred.
He broke her one rule. The one he agreed to. Truth. No more keeping her in the dark like a child.
Ariella wiped her hands on a cloth, tore off the apron, and strode toward the stairs.
“Forgive me,” Ariella said stiffly. “I must away to speak with the laird at once about the visit.”
