Lachlan expelled a breath he hadn’t realizedhe’d been holding in. His mother was a hard nut to crack. The ladyof Castle Cumhacht for twenty years afore his father died, she wasaccustomed to having her way in the keep. He knew ‘twould bedifficult for her to accept her replacement. Praise the saints‘twas off to a good start.
“Aye, you did brother,” his sister Catrionacrooned. She wore a blue dress similar to Veronica’s green gown,her long, dark hair braided with matching blue ribbon. “Dinna youken she and her brother are half French? Leastways, you dinna tellus.” She sighed dreamily. “I’ve long wished to visit Francia.”
“Nay, I dinna,” Lachlan replied. He frowned.He dinna wish for his wife to give away details of her life withouttelling him of them first. They had to keep their storiesstraight.
“Our mother,” Veronica said of herself andVictor, “was French. Our father was, uh, the laird of ClanBanks.”
He inclined his head, pleased his wife hadthought to keep with that part of their concocted explanation as toher origins. Mayhap her mum truly had been French. He’d find outlater.
“I was explaining to Moira and Catriona whyVictor and I have odd accents,” his wife said, still smiling.
‘Twas good thinking on Veronica’s partactually. He grunted at her, letting her know he was pleased.“Dinna stand on my account, wife,” Lachlan told her. “’Tis I whoshould stand when you walk into a room.”
She took her seat. He took the one betwixthis wife and mother at table’s head. Finn sat on Veronica’s otherside whilst Ramsay plopped down next to Victor. To Victor’s otherside sat Catriona, the laird’s sister.
Lachlan endeavored not to roll his eyes.‘Twas an obvious attraction betwixt his sister and Veronica’sbrother. They were constantly talking with each other at meals.More than once he’d caught Catriona roaming the halls near toVictor’s bedchamber, hoping to catch even a glimpse of him. Intruth, Lachlan dinna ken how to handle the situation. He wished forhis sister’s happiness and Victor was a loyal mon, yet the truetale of how Victor came to be here would like as naught cause hissister to swoon. And that was assuming she believed it.
“Your wife,” his mum cut in, “desires todecorate your bedchamber. I can hardly blame her. Your walls are sobarren ‘twould seem to an outsider that a Spartan dwellswithin.”
Not this again. Now he had two femalespestering him aboot his bedchamber.
“Aye, Lachlan,” Catriona said, “’tis a goodthing you took Veronica to wife. Leastways, you’ll have a finebedchamber the soonest.”
Make that three females. He grunted again,this time in acquiescence. Whilst Veronica had hardly seemed thedecorating type, he wished to provide her with whatever brought herhappiness. “Just dinna make it too frilly,” he grumbled.
One of Veronica’s eyebrows inched up. “Do Iseem like a woman who prefers frilly? I just don’t like the echoesinside the bedroom. Some adornments will rectify that flaw.”
He met her eyebrow for eyebrow. “’Tis happyI am to see you settling in, wife.”
“Thank you, uh, husband.”
‘Twas the first time she had referred to himthusly. He decided he loved it.
“Now aboot your wardrobe,” Moira said toVeronica. “The seamstresses will come to the keep in the morn totake measurements for your new bliauts and chemises. The cobbler iscoming to the supper meal this eve to measure your feet forshoes.”
“Thank you,” Veronica demurred, smilingagain. “I feel badly taking over Catriona’s wardrobe.”
“Nonsense!” Catriona declared. “’Tis a boonwe are a match in gowns and shoes.”
Maisie, the head of the maidservants, set atrencher afore Lachlan. A short and round woman of advanced years,her figure was testament to her good cooking. “Isla is bringingyours,” she instructed Finn and Ramsay, “so keep your boots on.Ailsa is fetching the mead.”
“I’d like more mead too,” Moira toldher.
“Of course, milady,” Maisie said, nodding.“Ailsa will bring enough for everyone at table.”
The conversation turned to how preciselyVeronica had eluded Lachlan when first he’d captured Victor.Lachlan tried not to stir in his seat, but he dinna ken what hiswife would say. He was thankful when Ailsa set a goblet of meadafore him. “Leave the jug after you fill everyone’s cups,” hemurmured to the maidservant. Mayhap he’d need much more than onegoblet of the stuff. “You have my thanks,” he gruffly added at hernod.
“My father treated me rather like a son,”Veronica said without missing a beat. “He taught me how to hide andhow to fight.”
Lachlan continued to squirm, yet oddly, hismother and sister seemed impressed by his wife’s confession. “Ilong told my Angus he should have taught those skills to Catrionaand I,” Moira returned, surprising him. He dinna ken that hadhappened. “We women should be able to defend ourselves whilst themen are out and aboot making battle.”
“I’d be happy to teach you,” Veronicaoffered, nearly causing Lachlan to choke on his mead. “Truthfully,I fight better than most men.”
Silence fell o’er the table as all eyesturned to Lachlan. Oddly, he didn’t have a care who o’erheard him.He was proud his wife was so strong. “’Tis true,” he saidmatter-of-factly. “My wife is a powerful force to be reckonedwith.”
Catriona grinned. “I wish to learn!” sheenthused. “Please teach me, sister!”
Moira chuckled. “I fear I’m too old tolearn, yet ‘twould lessen my worrying did Catriona ken how toprotect herself.”
