Chapter 10 #2
Lifting a spoonful of porridge to her mouth, Violet made a production of how delicious it was, complete with a toss of her head, sighs of delight, and even closed her eyes to buttress her point.
But when she peeked through her lashes, she found the girl was not impressed at all. She could feel Grannie Ava vibrating beside her, doing her best to withhold her laughter.
It felt good to make the older woman laugh, but it did not stop her from feeling a bit stupid.
Clearing her throat, she gathered her composure. “I think the porridge is good,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I daenae want porridge,” Keira repeated, stubborn as a mule.
“What do ye want, then?” Violet asked.
Keira tilted her head, her brow furrowing in concentration as she considered the question. Violet knew the minute she arrived at the answer because a smile spread across her lips.
“Haggis,” she declared triumphantly, eliciting a laugh from Grannie Ava.
“Ye cannae have haggis now, wee one,” Grannie Ava said gently.
“Why, Grannie?” Keira asked, the mutinous expression returning to her face.
“Ye will have it when there is a celebration. Perhaps during yer faither’s wedding. For now, be a good lass and eat yer food.”
Keira simply folded her arms in disappointment.
“What is haggis?” Violet asked suddenly, causing them to turn to her in surprise.
“Ye have never eaten it?” Grannie Ava asked in surprise.
“No, I have not. This is the first time I have heard of it,” Violet admitted, feeling awkward beneath their shocked gazes.
“Well, it makes sense. Ye are English and have been in England most of yer life. I daenae expect ye to ken about our local meals. Haggis is one of the very best of them. Ye have to try it,” Grannie Ava said with an encouraging smile.
“It is very delicious,” Keira intoned, taking the moment to extol the goodness of what appeared to be her favorite meal.
“Daenae mind wee Keira,” Grannie Ava said with a smile.
“Her hatred for porridge started some time ago after she took ill from one of her many escapades to the beach without proper clothes.
She had taken to bed with a fever that was very difficult to break.
We were mighty afraid that we would lose her, but the good Lord answered our prayers and restored her.
“She started to recover, but in those early days, she vomited far too much, so we were very careful. We fed her broth for a while before switching to very mashed porridge—which was a little plain, to be honest. She hated it and wished every day for actual food, but we couldnae risk it. She was deemed well eventually, a few days later, and haggis was given to her, since it was a nutritious meal.”
What is haggis? She thought.
Violet made a mental note to ask later.
“Well, Keira loved it. She ate so much of it that we feared she would get sick. She was fine, except for her obsession with haggis.”
Haggis, it seemed, was Keira’s comfort food.
“Why does she have to wait till the celebration? Meat is in storage, is it not?”
“Nae mutton,” Grannie Ava explained quietly. “Sheep will be slaughtered at yer wedding to make sure there is enough meat for our guests. Haggis would be made with the offal later.”
“Violet,” Keira called, taking a break from forcing a mouthful of porridge down her throat. “When is yer wedding?”
The question threw Violet off guard, even though she knew that the girl was just asking in the hope of getting to eat her favorite meal soon.
“Soon,” she told her with a smile, doing her best to hide how disconcerted she was by the question.
If the haggis was as good as they had said it was, then it deserved a place on her list.
Eat haggis.
Since eating haggis seemed to be tied to an event…
Get married.
The second addition caused her heart to thump faster with a curious mix of anticipation, uncertainty, and trepidation.
She decided that getting married to Ruaridh was a boon.
Apart from the fact that it would allow her to give rein to the desire that flared hot between them, there was also the fact that he was a laird of a large clan who seemed to adore her.
Marriage to him will protect her from the antics of her father and any other less savory suitor he might come up with.
But while she loved the Highlands and Clan McLeod, she was aware of the many challenges that would arise for her as an Englishwoman who hoped to help lead Highlanders. It would take a lot of her will and quite a little bit of time to gain their trust and respect.
She knew that when she eventually became Ruaridh’s wife, his men would be duty-bound to respect her, but she wanted to gain that respect on her own merit, and she was not deluded enough to believe it would be easy.
While she knew that Ruaridh was a responsible man who would care for her and protect her, his desire for her was a bonus.
Under normal circumstances, it would be enough.
Except that she had always entertained the idea of marrying for love, even when her engagement to Lord Westall had made it seem impossible.
She had held on to a tendril of hope that she would be saved.
Ruaridh had saved her, and every day she spent in his presence, she suspected that she might be slowly falling in love with him. Would she be content to accept only his care while he possessed the entirety of her heart?
Well, that was a question that did not require an answer immediately, in her opinion, seeing that completing her list was going to buy her some time.
Except now that she thought about it, with his flirting, kisses, and the horse riding and swimming lessons, he had gone through almost half of the items on her list, and soon she would no longer have an excuse to avoid her impending nuptials.
Just as she could feel the familiar edge of panic rising, the object of her thoughts strode into the room, Logan trailing him. He was walking purposely towards them, his long legs eating up the space between them in a few strides.
“Good morn, ladies,” he greeted with a slight bow when he reached them. His eyes found hers, and once again, she was lost in the tenderness of his voice and proximity.
It seemed her entanglement with this man was fast on its way to becoming irrevocable.