Chapter 7 #2
“I cared for a cousin of the Rose laird’s grandda who lived there. She passed away just before we were forced to return to Rose.”
“By the bridge burning.”
“Aye.”
“So ye ken how to keep a house—in town.”
“Aye, and something of running a keep like Rose. Since I had been betrothed to a MacBean heir, I learned much from Mary. Ross will be new and different, but together we will make it into the clan ye envision.”
Erik squeezed her hand, then stood. “Ye make me proud, Fiona. Now, I’m for an oar. Rest. We’ll be home before the day is done.
Fiona’s first glimpse of the Ross village did not impress her. Not in a good way. She was glad Erik had told her as much as he did on the sail over, so she had been warned not to expect too much.
The low-slung cottages looked to be in poor condition.
Given what Erik had said about his predecessor’s management of the clan, she wasn’t surprised, but it was disheartening.
Most needed new thatching, and she wondered how warm they would be in winter.
At least the bluff they sat on rose well above the firth, so they were out of range of winter-storm-driven waves.
After living in town, and at Rose, a much bigger, better-kept keep, the prospect of what needed to be done at Ross was daunting.
“I’ll take ye to my cot,” Erik told her, as he helped her up the steep path from the cove to the bluff top. “There, ye can get settled and rest while I talk to my tanist.”
“What about my things?”
“My men will bring them up on horseback. The next cove fronts a much gentler hill.”
“I should arrange for a meal for all of us,” Fiona objected, gesturing back toward the men who’d come with him to collect her and were now taking care of their birlinn.
“’Twill be ready soon, I think,” he said, sniffing the air as they topped the bluff. “Come with me.”
Fiona smelled scents of meat and herbs in the air, along with the briny scent of the sea. So someone at Ross could cook. That reassured her even as her stomach growled. “Soon would be good, aye? I’m hungry. Ye must be famished.”
“I’ve survived on less, but no’ tonight.”
He opened the door to a nondescript cottage and gestured her forward. Inside, she was pleasantly surprised. The bedding appeared fresh, and a small table near the hearth had been scrubbed. Even Erik seemed surprised. “I see Tira has been in here,” he muttered.
“Tira?”
“Ye will meet her, likely sooner rather than later. She was one of the stolen Munro lasses. The only one remaining here. Married to Teague. They seem well-matched. They sought Donas’ favor, and now seek the same from me.
And ye, nay doubt, as soon as she gets the chance.
” He glanced around. “Or perhaps she’s already begun. ”
Fiona knew the type. She’d have to be on her guard. Tira might be the first or only lass to befriend her here, but she might not be a trustworthy friend.
Soon after Erik left her to get settled, several of his men showed up with Fiona’s belongings.
Clothes gifted to her at Rose since she’d left much behind in Inverness and had no chance to go back to retrieve any of it.
Furnishings, too. And fabrics, serviceable ribbons for bindings, and sewing supplies.
A trousseau of sorts, if not fit for the lady of a prosperous clan, enough for the lady of this one.
She had no need for fine silks and delicate ribbons.
She’d be working. Durable garments would serve her well.
Her storage chest was full of them. The men also brought chairs, a larger table, candles and candlesticks, and metal tools of the sort a woman would use in the home, but some a man would need as well.
Mary had little idea what Ross had or might need, and so had been generous. Fiona hoped Erik would be pleased.
But they now had too much furniture. She asked the man who directed the others, “Is there an empty croft where some of this could be stored until ’tis needed?”
“Aye, lady. I can move anything ye dinna want in here.”
With his and another man’s help, before long, she had her new home set to rights. She asked if they needed anything she was sending to storage for their own home. They both declined, so she thanked them effusively and let them leave.
Where was Erik? She would go look for him, but she didn’t know the village or where he might be. Determined to wait, hunger finally forced her to follow her nose to the tempting smells she’d noticed at the top of the cliff path. She met Erik on the way.
“I was coming for ye,” he said. “I’m sorry I took so long. There’s food and plenty of it.” He took her arm and walked with her. “Did the men bring everything up?”
“Aye. There was too much. I had them put some of the larger pieces of furnishings in an empty croft. They might suit yer future hall if ’tisna too large.”
“Good thinking. ’Twillna be the size of the Rose keep’s hall, certainly. We dinna need such, no’ yet. Ah, here we are.”
Fiona had wondered where everyone ate their meals. Around the fire, it seemed, at least in good weather. She put a smile on her face and nodded as people stood to greet her and Erik.
“My wife,” Erik said, “Lady Fiona Ross.” He took her hand, raised it to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
Fiona colored at his open display of affection.
His eyes told her he meant it, though he could easily have done it just to prove to the skeptics among his people that they were truly and happily wed.
Though she had no idea where the impulse came from, she dipped a shallow curtsey in response.
It wasn’t as though she’d ever done that before.
In her life. But it seemed to be the right way to acknowledge the laird and her husband.
Erik’s smile grew warmer, as if she’d proved something to him.
Then he turned and faced the group around the campfire.
“Ye will follow her orders as if they come from me. My first order for ye is that ye will all help her become accustomed to our village and our ways. Ye will all be able to speak to yer new lady—tomorrow and in the days to follow. For now, enjoy yer meal and allow us to do the same. ’Twas a long trip from Rose. ”
Those who’d stood resumed their seats on benches placed around the fire and large cooking pot. Erik introduced her to the clan’s cook, who stood ladling stew into bowls for them. “’Tis very hot, my lady. Have a care and let it cool a wee,” he advised.
She estimated he was at least of an age to be Erik’s father. Perhaps he was part of the council of elders. Did Ross have one? She hadn’t thought to ask. He looked the part, though he also seemed more affable than the old men who served the Rose laird.
Fiona nodded. “Thank ye. I will do so. Though I’m famished enough to make waiting a challenge.”
“Ye’ll no’ enjoy a scalded mouth,” Erik interjected. “Come, sit and learn a few faces and names, if ye will.”
Fiona thanked the cook again and moved to the bench Erik indicated, one left empty for them as others shifted around upon their arrival.
“That miscreant there,” Erik said, nodding in the direction of another tall, dark-haired man about his same age who stood to eat outside the circle of benches, “is my tanist, my second in command, Tormod. Ye can trust and depend on him.”
“He’ll be a good resource for me, then. I do wish to meet with everyone to talk about what they need, what the village needs, and who has skills to help make improvements, so I can learn how my skills will fit in.”
Erik dipped a spoon into his stew and tested the temperature with a small sip.
“No’ yet,” he advised. “That is a sound idea to start. Learn as much as ye can, but promise naught until ye talk with me. We’ve much to do, and ’twill go better if we have a plan we build together as a way forward rather than working at cross-purposes. ”
“I agree wholeheartedly. Who else then, should I ken first?”
Quietly, Erik went around the circle, naming the members of his council, others in the clan, then adding several who were not at the evening fire.
“Two lads are fostered away. Since we just arrived, Tormod will ken where the others are. The lasses are likely tending their younger siblings. The bairns are already put to bed,” he said, guessing what had put a concerned frown on her face.
“We do have a few. And perhaps more on the way one day soon.” The smile he gave her turned dark and dangerous.
“No’ yet,” she told him. “’Tis much too soon.”
“Then we’ll have to keep trying.”
His comment both warmed and terrified her.
He had much to teach her about relations between a husband and wife, and she was eager to continue those lessons.
But motherhood was not something she felt ready for.
Not yet. Still, one led to the other with some inevitability, as she knew.
Their time would come. Their family. But for now, Erik and all of Ross were her family.