"Try the stovies," he said, using his utensil to point them out on her plate. He knew that it was a clumsy attempt to redirect the conversation, but it seemed to serve its purpose. "The meat is a roast. It's me favorite."
She acted as soon as she was given instruction, apparently grateful for the change of subject. This time, she went a little slower, as if trying to memorize each ingredient to figure out what made this dish Hugh's favorite. She chewed thoughtfully, humming with delight as she did.
"Perhaps it will become my favorite as well," she said with a grin once she'd swallowed. "I can't say that I've ever had anything so flavorful."
Her clear joy felt like a personal victory. Though he may not have been the one to make the dishes, he'd been successful in curating them. It felt better, more gratifying than any other battle he had won.
"When I was a wee lad, I would beg me maither to make stovies," he said, the memory offering itself before he was able to keep it close. "The cooks of me castle are skilled, but nay one makes them quite like me maither."
"So, you didn't always live in the castle?" she said, immediately filling in the blanks. "You didn't have cooks growing up?"
"Nay," he said, tightening his grip on the silver in his hand as he took a measured breath. "I grew up in the village. I ken the way they live there, and I intend to provide for them now that I've taken Lairdship."
She didn't respond; instead, she smiled softly, a private thing she was keeping to herself. He felt himself straighten under her gaze, his eyes narrowing as he held himself still. He said, "What is it?"
"Nothing," she murmured, the gentleness still residing in her features. "I suppose I just didn't fully understand your responsibility until now."
Perhaps one day I will tell her that I may be the first Laird to truly understand me effect on the village.
The meal had been unexpected. Though Anna supposed she might have allowed herself to be wound up by her uncertainty. Hugh had been a gentleman since she'd met him. Sure, he was different from the Englishmen she'd grown up around, but she liked him more because of it.
If she truly thought about it, she was more than a bit afraid of his kindness being false. She'd endured so much teasing when she was in England that it was difficult for her to believe any manwould be interested in her. Besides, Hugh was one of the most handsome men she'd ever met. To Anna, it felt more plausible that something had gone wrong, rather than being invited to a meal.
Across from her, Hugh broke a loaf of bread in his large hands, offering her half. As she accepted, she couldn't help the way her gaze lingered on his fingers. His nails were meticulously cleaned, yet their strength was apparent. This man was strong, but he was also refined in a way she didn't quite understand.
"The bread's still warm," he said, gesturing to the bit she was holding. "Ye should try it."
"Oh, yes. Thank you," Anna said quickly as she took a bite, hoping that her thoughts hadn't been too transparent. She was attempting to enjoy the meal.
Though she tried, she couldn't get her focus to stay on the taste. Instead, she was watching Hugh. There was a crumb on his bottom lip that he immediately swiped away with his tongue. A tremor ran through her body, heat coiling between her legs.
It's because his lips are so nice. The curve ever so slightly, they're only a bit chapped from the wind. I'm sure they'd be warm against mine.
"What do ye think?" He was looking at her expectantly now.
She blinked a few times, trying to remember what he was referring to. Then, she recalled the bread. "It was… good." She took another bite, this time focusing on the taste. "Delicious."
Hugh's eyebrow quirked, and she caught herself tracking the movement. When she got hold of herself, her entire body became hot with embarrassment. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched as though he knew exactly what was happening, and Anna felt as though she might ignite.
"Ye seem distracted," he said after a moment, slowly raising his half of the loaf to his lips once more. "Is everythin' all right?"
"Just… tired," she squeaked, looking down at her plate. There was still so much she hadn't tried, and it was all because she'd been staring at the Laird.
No one had ever made her feel quite like this. Any time she was in his presence, she found it difficult to focus on anything else. Now that they were married and he was smirking at her in that infuriating way, it was even more arduous a task.
"The journey was quite tough on ye," he agreed, though there was a distinct air of teasing in his voice. "Which is why ye should focus on eatin'. I ken ye have an appetite."
"Hugh!" Anna exclaimed, partially offended, partially humiliated. She attempted to make herself smaller. "That's… You shouldn't…" She struggled to articulate herself.
"Ach, I meant it as a good thing, Anna," he said, urging her plate closer. "I daenae like scrawny lasses. Yer form is exquisite, Lady McDonald. I willnae let ye believe otherwise."
The direct compliment made her squirm in her seat. It ran counter to what she believed about herself, but he was so sincere. Instead of responding to the nicety, she focused on her meal, trying each dish and doing her best to memorize which were her favorites.
"Ye werenae in the parlor when I went to find ye," Hugh said after a few moments, breaking the companionable silence they'd fallen into. "Did ye get yer castle tour?"
"I did," she confirmed, thankful for the new subject. "I've seen nearly everything except for the gardens and the kitchens. The tour was interrupted before we were able to go outside."
"Well, ye'll have plenty of time to see them," he promised, speaking as the leader of this clan. "I'll ensure ye get to it tomorrow."
