Chapter 14
“There are so many stalls ye have to see, Violet,” Keira said gleefully. “Ye willnae have seen the likes in England. Mr. McMurray always has the best toys to look at, and there’s a puppeteer who puts on plays at noon. If we hurry, we will meet him.”
“I believe you, dear girl, and I look forward to it.” Violet gave her a smile. “Indeed, we are leaving now.”
She had been looking forward to exploring the village since Grannie Ava had suggested it, and now that the opportunity had presented itself, it was too good to miss.
Preparations for the feast were underway, and Ruaridh had asked Grannie Ava to see to the making of a few dresses for Violet, for which she was grateful. The old woman had all too happily suggested that she choose the fabrics herself.
Learning that she was going to the market, Violet had added a few other items to her list, including decorations and seasonal fruits, and the excitement of it all had kept her awake the previous night.
Keira had readily appointed herself as a guide, since Violet was new and wasn’t familiar with the village, though they had all seen it as a ruse for her to ditch her lessons for the day. Still, none of them had the heart to stop her.
They had met in the morning room to receive the final list from Grannie Ava and slowly made their way to the front doors, with Keira making commentary as they went.
But when the doors came into view, Violet spotted Ruaridh’s giant frame filling the frame.
Her heart rate quickened when his gaze found them.
“Da!” Keira squealed, running forward to meet him.
The usually stoic man smiled as she approached, picking her up easily. “How are ye, lass?” he asked, placing a small kiss on her forehead.
Violet felt her heart thud at the warm gesture and cleared her throat to rid herself of the lump forming there.
“Good day, Violet,” he greeted, as though finally seeing her.
“Good day, my Laird,” she returned. “What wonderful weather we’re having.”
“Aye,” he answered.
She was aware of Keira’s eyes darting between the two of them and the wide smile on her face.
“Where might ye two be off to?” he asked.
“We’re heading to the village to buy a few items,” she answered. “For my dress and also for the festivities.”
“Alone?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Ye’ve never been to the village, and ‘tis nae safe for two lasses such as ye to go alone.”
“We will hardly be alone, my Laird,” she told him with a frown.
“We have each other, and Keira has offered to be my guide. After all, she has spent her whole life here, so she knows her way around. Besides, we won’t be carrying much.
Some of the items will be delivered to the castle now and others afterward. ”
“Keira is hardly a guide, Violet,” Ruaridh chided, as if she were a child. “What if ye were set upon by ruffians? Would ye be able to protect yerselves?”
She scoffed. “If there were any ruffians in the village bold enough to try to harm your daughter and fiancée, it stands to question if your people fear you or not.”
His nostrils flared at her insult. “They daenae need to fear me. I only need their loyalty.”
She tsked, placing her hands on her hips. “That doesn’t stop vagabonds from doing what they please. Loyalty doesn’t keep criminals from doing as they please.”
“And fear would?” he asked with a glare.
“Indeed,” she answered.
“Me people are better behaved,” he declared, voice tinged with pride. “’Tis others I worry about. Even those from a relatively civilized society act like barbarians.”
She couldn’t help but deduce he was referring to Lord Westall, and she grinned at the jab.
Not one to lose an attitude, she retorted, “Well, your people should be able to rise to the defense of two helpless ladies, shouldn’t they?”
He glared hotly at her, but she gave him the sweetest smile she could muster, which only seemed to infuriate him more.
She derived joy from seeing expressions on his face other than the blank look he typically wore, most especially the anger that crossed his features whenever they sparred verbally.
“Ah!” Keira cried suddenly. “I just remembered Grannie Ava asked me to accompany her to the kitchens this morning to select the pies we’ll be having at the cèilidh.”
She scrambled down from her father’s arms.
“Ye will have to take Violet to the village today, Da,” she added with a pointed look.
“But I have—”
“Promise me ye will take her, Da,” she begged with a pout, taking his hands in her own. “’Tis the only time she has to buy fabrics for her new dresses. Ye want Violet to look bonny at the cèilidh, do ye nae?”
“Aye,” Ruaridh answered gruffly, clearly powerless to resist her.
Violet bit her lip to keep from smiling.
“Good,” Keira said. “And ye will show her all the nice shops?”
Ruaridh looked at his daughter, then at Violet, then back at his daughter, and nodded.
“Thank ye, Da!” she gushed, then hugged him before running off.
Violet watched the girl go and wondered briefly if Keira had been trying to play matchmaker. She couldn’t put it past the little troublemaker to do something of the sort. Perhaps Grannie Ava had connived with her to do so. She wouldn’t put it past the two of them.
She giggled softly at the thought.
Then she looked up to find Ruaridh watching her with a frown, and she wondered if perhaps he thought she was laughing at him. Clearing her throat, she bit back a smile and folded her arms.
“Shall we leave now?” she asked. “I wish to return before the evening meal.”
He grunted and turned to leave, not waiting for her.
Glaring at the back of his head, she began walking hurriedly to catch up with him and soon fell into step with him, even though it was difficult because his strides were much longer than hers.
“Is this your way of escorting me, my Laird?” she asked with a huff, stopping.
He stopped and turned to her. “May I ask what ye mean?” he asked calmly.
She sighed. “You’re literally miles ahead of me, and considering it’s my first time going to the village, shouldn’t you be giving me a tour?”
His frown betrayed his consideration of her suggestion.
“I shall try to walk slower for ye,” he allowed.
“And the tour?” she asked.
“There is naught but dirt around,” he answered. “When we get to the village, I will give ye a tour.”
She itched to laugh at his attempt at humor, but she didn’t think he would appreciate it very much. So she nodded and moved to his side.
“Shall we?” she asked with a smile, motioning to the road ahead of them.
He sighed as though he had been resigned to the executioner’s block and started walking.
True to his word, he kept his steps slower for her, and when they arrived at the village, he began the tour. He was nothing short of honorable.
While he spoke, she noted the hint of pride in his voice as he told her the history of some of the older buildings and the newer ones he had had built as the population grew.
The village was beautiful, with well-kept houses and shops in a pattern that was easy to discern. The square was busy with wagons moving to and fro, laden with eggs and milk and cheese and hay.
Violet itched to experience it all on her own. To roam the streets and stalls and the bustle of the busy streets. There was so much to see, but she didn’t wander off for his sake. He would no doubt hunt her down and give her a stern scolding.
It was clear he was well-liked by his people, as every few steps they took, someone came to greet him. If anyone wondered at her walking with him, they didn’t ask, only greeted her politely as well.
“And what are ye in the market for today, me Laird?” one asked.
“I am taking the lass to Mrs. Fraser,” he answered. “We want to get some bolts of fabric.”
“Oh?” another murmured. “Would ye like some jewelry as well, miss? I’ve just gotten some lovely pieces.”
“I will be sure to stop by later,” Violet assured the woman, who beamed at her.
“Mrs. McGhee imports jewelry from all over the world, and her husband is a skilled silver worker,” Ruaridh explained.
Violet nodded.
He led her to the haberdasher, where she purchased some fabrics in shades of blue, yellow, and a lovely green she couldn’t refuse.
He was surprisingly helpful in helping her decide what colors she should choose.
She then got threads and ribbons matching the fabrics.
Their next stop was to the florist, and then came the wine and fruits.
Each stop was more fun than the last, and each shop owner had stories to tell about how the Laird had helped them in one way or another.
“Are ye hungry?” Ruaridh asked suddenly, startling her.
She wasn’t necessarily hungry, but now that he had mentioned it, she had wanted to try haggis for the longest time.
“Not really,” she answered. “But I would like to try haggis if possible.”
He nodded. “We should go to the Weeping Willow tavern,” he suggested and led her there.
Violet didn’t know whether to be suspicious of a tavern known as the Weeping Willow, but she followed him nonetheless.
The tavern was surprising. That was the best way to describe the quaint building. It was a two-story establishment painted in a lovely blue, with yellow shutters. Inside was no less surprising, with tables occupied by a boisterous crowd.
At the center of the chaos stood a lovely middle-aged woman holding a large mug from which she drank heartily, to the delight of her patrons. When she finished, they cheered, then she placed the empty mug on the tray of a passing maid and turned around.
“Oh, goodness me!” she exclaimed, rushing over to them. “Me Laird, what brings ye to these fine parts today, and who might this lovely lass be?”
“This is Miss Violet Wilkinson,” Ruaridh answered. “We are to be wed soon.”
Violet was surprised he had answered honestly.
“Truly?” the woman asked, beaming. “That is wonderful news. ‘Tis about time, me Laird.”
Violet smiled. She could feel the tips of his ears redden.
“Might we have a table then, Mrs. Walter?” Ruaridh asked.