Page 38 of Ghost of the Ton

“I-I’ve not eaten… I beg pardon, what was it called?”

“Parritch.”

“I’ve not tried parritch before, but I would like some, thank you.”

The maid tilted her head to one side, then ladled some of the mixture into Mia’s bowl. It spilled over, and Mia let out a cry as some fell into her lap.

“Beg pardon, Yer Ladyship,” the maid said as Iona stifled a giggle.

“Ailsa!” Eilidh cried. “Fetch a cloth at once. No…return to the kitchen and remain there. Send Elspeth with a cloth, seeing as ye cannae be trusted.”

The maid blushed and mumbled, “Yes, Lady MacLennan,” then slipped out of the room.

“I’m so sorry, lass,” Eilidh said, leaning toward Mia. “Yer poor dress! Go to yer chamber after breakfast and change into a fresh gown, and I’ll send Elspeth up. I dinnae know what’s come over Ailsa. She’s…” She paused as Iona let out a snort. “Was this yer doing, lass?”

Iona’s cheeks flushed pink and she shook her head.

“Please, don’t trouble yourself or Elspeth,” Mia said.

“It’s no trouble. Now, eat—there’s naught like a good bowl of parritch to set ye up for the day.”

Mia took a spoonful. The texture was a little sticky, but she could not deny the flavor. Both creamy and nutty, it was neither sweet nor savory, but warm and welcoming. She swallowed it, letting the warmth radiate through her body.

“It’s good, aye?”

Mia paused, the spoon halfway to her lips as her husband spoke, and she glanced up to see him staring at her, his gaze as intense as usual but holding a flicker of emotion, almost as if he sought her approval.

Mia nodded. “It’s delicious.” She smiled, but he did not return the smile. He merely nodded then resumed eating.

“It’ll stick to yer ribs,” Eilidh said.

“It’ll what?”

Eilidh let out a soft laugh. “It’s what we say hereabouts. There’s naught like parritch to keep ye warm and satisfied throughout the day. We eat nothing else for breakfast. But if ye’d like anything else, I can ask Mrs. McBride to set something else aside for ye each morning.”

“Mrs. McBride has enough work to do, Ma,” Iona said. “Ye’re always telling me I should help her in the kitchen.” She glanced at Mia. “Why should Mrs. McBride have to do more work just because she’s here?”

“Iona,” Hamish growled, “do ye want me to take the strap to ye? Ye gods, what did I do to deserve being saddled with such a brat for a sister?”

Iona opened her mouth to reply, and Hamish slammed his fist on the table, which vibrated with a clatter of cutlery. She flinched and stared at him with defiance. But Mia caught a flicker of fear in her eyes. The girl resumed eating. Her hand shook, and she looked on the verge of tears. But when she met Mia’s gaze, she pulled a face.

Breakfast continued in silence, punctuated by Eilidh’s pleasantries, but a thick atmosphere filled the air. The sooner Mia found somewhere else to live, the better. Doubtless her presence was the cause of everyone’s discomfort.

Breakfast concluded and Mia rose to clear the bowls.

“My dear, what are ye doing?” Eilidh said. “Ye’re our guest, not a servant.”

“I-I must learn to take care of myself,” Mia said.

“Sweet girl, this is yer home.”

“But not forever,” Mia said. “I’ve no wish to appear ungrateful, but I should like to make arrangements to live elsewhere as soon as possible.”

“I’m sure we’d all prefer it if ye remained here with us, lass,” Eilidh said. “There’s no need to leave…is there, son?”

Mia glanced at Hamish. “We made a deal, did we not, sir?”

“What’s this?” Eilidh said. “Are ye evicting yer wife?”