Morven giggled. “Someone is hungry.”
Una popped her head up from a cupboard. “Did ye lassies say ye are hungry?” She straightened, wiping flour from her hands on the apron tied haphazardly at her waist. “Sit, sit.” She shooed them over to the table where they had broken many fasts. “Good morn to ye both. ’Tis nice to see ye together for a meal.” She smiled with a wink and hurried off to gather food.
They sat as instructed and watched as everyone around them hustled about. Eilidh always felt a bit guilty with how busy the servants were, but the one time she had offered to help, the servants took it as a personal affront. She had not meant it to be insulting, she had truly wanted to help. But they would have none of it and quickly dismissed her offer.
“What chores are we working on today?” Eilidh asked, smiling when Una placed a steaming bowl of porridge in front of her. Morven scrunched her nose in distaste. Una quickly returned with a plate of bread, jam, and butter, and then poured cups of honeyed ale.
“Eat up and get yer day off to a great start, dearies.” And then she was back in the thick of the hectic kitchen, giving orders and delegating tasks.
Morven shook her head. “I dinnae ken how she does it. I would go mad with such responsibility.”
“Aye,” Eilidh nodded. “She is verra good at keeping the kitchens in order and ensuring we are always fed.” She added a spoonful of jam to her porridge and stirred, making a fruity, colorful swirl, then blew off the steam afore taking a bite. The warmth spread throughout her chest and she smiled. It was her favorite meal. “So, the chores?” She prodded.
Morven was slathering a piece of warmed bread with butter. “No’really chores. We are going foraging.” She licked the butter that dripped from her fingers. “I want to look for flowers that I can dry. I have a needlepoint design I am working on with Ma and I would like to weave dried flowers into the pattern.”
Eilidh nodded like she understood, but she did not. “Sounds lovely.” Needlepoint, or any sewing, for that matter, had never held her interest. “Are there nay actual chores for us to do?”
“Ye ken as weel as I that no one lets us do aught. I decided we might as weel get out in the sun and see what we can find.”
Her sister had a point. Much like the kitchen maids and servants, the household maids shooed them away whenever they attempted to help. Their chores mainly consisted of keeping their rooms tidy, but even then, they each had their own maids who went after them to do the deep cleaning of their chambers.
Eilidh shrugged. She would never turn down a chance to get out of the castle and explore. She wondered where Morven wanted to go flower hunting. Mayhap in the direction of where she met up with Torquil? If so, she would gladly tag along.
Absentmindedly, she touched her fingers to her lips. The memory of his kiss once again bringing a smile to her face.
Morven gave her an odd look. “Why are ye smiling like a fool?” She asked. “Is it the porridge. If so, I shall ask Una for a bowl.”
Eilidh rolled her eyes. “’Tis naught. But, aye, the porridge is divine.”
“That is comical.” Morven shook her finger at Eilidh. “Ye are hiding something. I just ken it. I will find out what, though.”
Eilidh ignored her and finished her porridge. “Shall we get to wandering the woods then?” she asked when she was done.
They thanked Una and made their way through the courtyard and out to the west side of the castle. Eilidh hid her disappointment in going the opposite direction that she kenned would take her to Torquil.
“Do ye have any particular flower ye are looking for?”
Morven shook her head. “Nay. I just want something that speaks to me. I will ken it, when I see it.”
Eilidh rolled her eyes. This could be a very long foraging expedition if those were the parameters they were searching by.
They walked deeper into the woods. Morven looked over her shoulder.
Eilidh followed her gaze. There was no one following them.
“I ken ye are keeping a secret,” Morven teased, her voice lilting.
Eilidh stiffened, but forced her body to relax, and hoped that her sister had not noticed. “I dinnae ken what ye are speaking aboot.”
“Och, aye, ye do.” Morven pushed her arm. “What is it?”
Eilidh forced a laugh. “I believe ye are creating scenarios in yer mind to entertain yerself, little sister. Mayhap, ye should become a storyteller. A bard to travel the countryside and tell tales.”
Morven lifted a brow. “Doonae change the direction of our conversation. Ye have been sneaking off lately. Ofttimes.”
“I havenae. Unless ye are referring to me finding time alone so that I can practice. May I remind ye that is naught new.”
“Aye, but this is different. Something is different. E’en ye are different.” Her eyes widened. “Is it a boy?”
