Better the devil ye know,she thought.
A few of Fergus’ men sat at the table as she waited for the food to come out, and they talked idly among themselves, but Jeane could feel their eyes on her. They were not lewd gazes but… curious ones, all the same.
No one spoke to her, except Mary earlier. It was as if they were all shocked to have a lady in the house. Was Fergus a cold type of man? Jeane thought so, given his men’s reaction. She supposed it was good news that he did not have a different woman in bed every week like Lord Fraser.
Aiden came to breakfast just as the food was being put on the long table.
There wasso muchof it that it made her head spin.
Porridge, smoked salmon, eggs—both boiled and poached, she noted. Then even more food was brought to the table—fruit, bread, and cheeses.
Jeane looked at the spread with her eyes wide. It was not that she lived in poverty, nothing of the sort, but her father never had this kind of feast for breakfast. That was for sure.
It was usually just a bit of fruit, some bread maybe, even some barley soup from the night before. But the McKay castle was smaller by at least half than the McCloud castle, and Fergus had more men in his clan than her father did.
Jeane watched as Mary piled a plate high for Fergus, and she made her own, not waiting for the lass, not wanting to give Mary more work to do.
She grabbed some fruit and cheese, a small hunk of bread, and then sat back.
Fergus frowned at her.
“Ye eat like a little mouse, too,” he grunted and piled smoked salmon and eggs onto her plate.
Jeane pushed at his hands. “Nay, I cannae eat all of that,” she complained, but Fergus glared at her.
“Ye’ve barely eaten since ye arrived. Food keeps yer strength up, and ye’ll need it. Ye work for me, aye?”
Jeane wanted to roll her eyes. “How could I forget? Ye keep remindin’ me.”
Fergus frowned deeper, but Jeane turned to her plate. Fergus was right—she had not eaten much in the past few days, and she was starving. She ate slowly, trying to savor it. She did not want to get used to eating this much every day—she would miss it when it was inevitably taken away.
But Fergus piled her plate a second time after she finished.
“I cannae possibly?—”
“Ye can,” Fergus answered, demanding, not giving her much of a choice. “And ye will.”
She let out a long breath. She was not quite full, not exactly, but she was used to the feeling of not quite being satisfied. Her father had made some poor decisions of late, and food had been a bit scarce.
“Ye daenae have to stuff me full to get me to do me job.”
“It’ll make the job easier to do, lass. Just eat.”
Jeane tried but only managed to finish about half of the second helping.
He offered her a sweet pastry that Mary had brought to the table, but Jeane shook her head and groaned.
“I couldnae eat another bite.”
Fergus nodded, as if satisfied. “Lottie is waiting for ye in her chambers. She will take her breakfast, and ye will examine her.”
“Aye,” Jeane answered easily. Although she was often annoyed that Fergus only wanted her at the McCloud castle for her healing prowess, she did love her job and wanted to see how Lottie was faring.
Fergus did not say goodbye as he walked out of the great hall, but Jeane was not offended. She knew a laird had many responsibilities throughout the day.
Mary, along with the other staff, came to clean the breakfast table, and Jeane clutched at her as Mary picked up her plate.
“Would ye show me to Lottie’s quarters?” Jeane asked, and Mary relaxed.
