Betsy shrugged. “I knew you would not be thinking about such things, but I thought it prudent to pack something lest you were invited to a ball or something.”
Lilliana snorted. “Hardly likely.” She looked around the room pointedly. “You surely do not think they care about such things here.”
“You never know, My Lady.” Betsy straightened up. “There you go. All done.” She held up the looking glass to Lilliana’s face. “Do you like it?”
Lilliana turned from side to side. She was wearing a deep red gown. The soft creamy swell of her breasts peeked out tantalizingly, and her neck seemed lengthened by the display of skin and her pinned-up hair. She wore simple pearl earrings and a pearl choker.
“It looks well. Hand me my shawl, please,” she said.
“Are you sure you want to wear one? You look quite well without it.”
“Perhaps a little too well. They do not dress up for dinner here.”
Betsy wisely refrained from asking why Lilliana was making such an effort. Lilliana did not think she had an answer to that question.
I had been stuck in bed for almost a week. Of course, I want to make an effort now. In case anyone was worried.
She nodded to herself, satisfied with that explanation. “Come, let us go before the timing of my entrance becomes too uncomfortable.”
She walked into the dining hall slowly. It was her first night in public since she fell ill, and she did not know what to expect. As she walked between the tables, she locked eyes with some people she had met before. Some nodded to her while others looked away.
She frowned, wondering what that was about. Finally reaching the high table, she spotted Kayden as he got to his feet and gave her a bow in greeting. She nodded to him and then took her seat, wanting to get off her feet before they stopped supporting her weight. She nodded to Moira, who sat to her right.
She took a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face, and turned to face Kayden.
“Good evening to ye. Ye look well,” he said before she could utter a word.
She smiled. “That is kind of you to say.” She turned to look around the hall. “Not many seem happy to see me, though.”
Kayden did not look away from her. “I assure ye, they were as worried about ye as I was.”
She gave him a cynical look. “So, not very much then?”
Kayden chuckled, shaking his head. “I do hope ye said that in jest. I cannae have ye thinking I daenae care about yer welfare.”
Lilliana snorted and then turned to her other side to greet the housekeeper. “Moira. Good evening.”
Moira smiled. “Evening, Me Lady. How are ye feeling?”
Lilliana nodded. “As well as I can, I suppose. I was wondering if by chance you would know”—she cast an annoyed glance at her husband—“whether I am expected to host any teas or dinners, perhaps receive guests? It is customary for a newlywed couple in England to do so after the honeymoon. I am not sure if the same applies here.”
Moira frowned. “I daenae ken. I havenae seen that happen. Of course, ye would be expected to host if ye had visitors. Or organize events, where they are needed.”
“What of issuing orders and verifying accounts? Am I expected to do that?”
Moira’s frown deepened. “I daenae think so. Typically, the lady of the castle approves the menu before Cameron purchases food for the week. Otherwise, there are events to host and invites to send once the Laird gives his approval. Alliances. Treaties. All of that.”
Lilliana’s mouth twisted wryly. “I suppose that is why I am unable to go help the villagers.”
Moira huffed. “Aye, well…” She raised her voice slightly so that Kayden could hear as well. “That is something that is usually decided by yeandthe Laird.”
Lilliana heard footsteps approaching and turned to see Old Fergus headed her way. She beamed, glad to see him, and got to her feet to welcome him.
“Fergus! Have you come to join us?”
His face was grim. “Nay. There is nay time for that. Me Laird, Me Lady, I am sad to report that we have had a death in the village.”
Lilliana frowned. “From the illness?”
