Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Eva woke that morning with a lightness in her chest she could not quite explain. Sun streamed through the narrow window, and she dressed with a hum on her lips, feeling for once unburdened. She found Amelie just beyond the servants’ stairs and clasped her hands eagerly.
“Amelie, I was thinkin’,” Eva said brightly, “I’d like to ken how the kitchens truly run.”
Amelie blinked, then broke into a grin. “The kitchens, Miss?” she laughed. “Ye’ll be ruined for fine manners if Cook Pauline gets her hands on ye.”
Eva waved the concern away. “If I’m to be Lady here, I cannae be afraid of flour and heat.”
“Well then,” Amelie said, linking arms with her, “best come prepared to laugh and get messy.”
The kitchens were alive with warmth and sound, pots clanging and voices calling over one another. Eva’s eyes widened at the long tables dusted in flour and the great hearth roaring along the wall. Pauline, broad-shouldered and red-cheeked, turned at their approach.
“And what’s this?” she boomed, eyes twinkling. “The future Lady wanderin’ into me domain?”
Eva dipped her head politely, smiling. “I hope ye’ll forgive me intrudin’, Pauline.”
Pauline laughed so hard her spoon rattled against a bowl. “Intrudin’? Nay, lass, any betrothed of the Laird is welcome here.”
Amelie chimed in, “She wants to learn to make the tarts her brother Jason loves.”
At the mention of Jason, Pauline’s expression softened. “Ah, the wee lad with the sweet tooth,” she said. “Aye, we can do that.”
Eva stepped closer, eager. “I’d be grateful if ye’d show me.”
Pauline shoved a clean apron into her hands. “Then tie that on and listen close, for pastry shows nay mercy.”
Flour puffed into the air as Pauline demonstrated, and Eva coughed, laughing.
“Saints preserve me,” Eva said, brushing her nose, “I look like a miller already.”
“One of us now,” a scullery maid named Elspeth teased.
Amelie laughed. “Wait till she tries rollin’ the dough.”
Eva pressed the rolling pin down with too much enthusiasm, sending dough slithering off the table. “Oh!” she gasped.
Pauline barked with laughter. “Easy, lass, ye’re makin’ tarts, nae battlin’ the English.”
Eva grinned sheepishly. “I ken I’ve more strength than grace. Our cottage was never blessed to have such fine flour, only made bread and nae much else.”
“Ye will learn in nay time at all,” Pauline said.
As they filled the tarts with berries and honey, the kitchen buzzed with chatter.
“Jason’ll devour three of these at least,” Eva said fondly.
Pauline nodded. “Aye, and then ask for a fourth.”
Eva smiled. “Let him. He’s grown stronger each day, and it gladdens me heart.”
One of the maids nudged Eva playfully. “Ye’ve a good way with folk, Miss.” Eva paused, surprised. “Do I?”
“Aye,” Amelie said softly, “ye speak to us like we matter.”
Eva felt warmth bloom in her chest. “Because ye do. We are the same.”
When the tarts were slid into the oven, Pauline wiped her hands. “There now, ye’ve done well.”
Eva peeked inside, eyes shining. “I cannae wait to see Jason’s face.”
Pauline chuckled. “Careful, or ye’ll be expected to bake every week.”
Eva laughed freely. “I think I’d like that.”
As the scent of baking filled the room, Eva realized her cheeks ached from smiling.
She had learned something new, laughed without restraint, and felt, like she truly belonged.
The kitchens no longer seemed loud or chaotic but full of life and warmth.
And as she carried that feeling with her, she thought that perhaps being Lady McLaren meant moments just like this.
Eva hummed softly as she walked down the castle corridors, the echo of her footsteps mingling with the tune she barely noticed leaving her lips as she carried the basket of tarts.
Her thoughts were a whirl of Connor’s kiss from the night before, warm and lingering, making her heart flutter with excitement and nerves.
The wedding drew near, and though she felt anticipation, a touch of anxiety prickled at her stomach.
She paused inside her mother’s room, only to find it empty.
She set the basket of tarts down on the table and waited a few moments.
After her mother did not return, Eva wandered into the corridor.
“Excuse me, lass,” Eva called to a passing maid. “Have ye seen me maither? I had hoped to find her here.”
The maid stopped and smiled. “Aye, Miss Eva. I saw her in the courtyard a moment ago, sittin’ at the long table watchin’ Jason play with the other bairns.”
“Thank ye kindly,” Eva said, hurrying down the corridor. She made her way toward the courtyard, her heart lightening with the thought of seeing her mother.
When she arrived, she found Annabeth seated at the table, sunlight catching her hair and warming her face.
Jason was laughing, tumbling on the grass with the other children, his joy spilling into the bright afternoon.
Eva’s chest swelled with happiness at the sight.
She moved closer, eager to join them, her nerves momentarily forgotten.
“Maither!” Eva exclaimed, kneeling beside the bench. “I am delighted to see ye out in the sun at last.”
Annabeth turned, her eyes sparkling, and smiled. “I feel fully recovered, lass, and it does me well to be in the fresh air. The healer’s care was thorough, and I am grateful for it.”
Eva dropped to her knees beside the bench and hugged her tightly. “See, Maither, getting’ ye and Jason the best care possible was the right thing to do. I was so worried about ye both.”
Annabeth gently pressed her hand to Eva’s cheek. “Perhaps ye are right, daughter, though only if ye truly wish to be here, in the castle.”
“I do, Maither,” Eva said firmly, her voice soft yet resolute. “I want to be here. I want to be Connor’s wife.”
Annabeth’s eyes softened, and she reached over to squeeze Eva’s hand. “I ken it well, Eva. I see a sparkle in yer eye. Ye care for him deeply, daenae ye?”
“I do, Maither,” Eva admitted, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “More than I ever imagined I could care for anyone.”
Jason ran past them, laughing and calling out to the other children.
“Sister! Look at this big beetle I found!” he cried, crouching to show Eva the creature.
Eva laughed and stroked his hair. “Well done, Jason! Ye’ve got a sharp eye, just like yer Laird when he scouts the lands.”
Annabeth chuckled, shaking her head. “Aye, that boy is lively as ever. It does me heart good to see him runnin’ about freely again.”
“Maither, it makes me so happy to see Jason playin’ like this. And ye, lookin’ well and strong again.”
Annabeth leaned back in her chair, smiling fondly at both her children. “It warms me heart, Eva, that ye take such care for us. That ye will care for this family even once ye are Lady McLaren.”
Eva blushed and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I will, Maither. I promise to care for ye both, and to make our home a place of happiness.”
Jason ran up again, dropping a stick near Eva’s feet. “Sister, sister! Can we play a game of tag now?”
Eva laughed, lifting him into her arms. “Aye, Jason, but just for a wee moment. Ye must rest between games, or ye’ll tire yerself before supper.”
Annabeth reached over, brushing Eva’s hair with her fingers. “I see, daughter, that ye are growin’ more confident each day. It pleases me greatly that ye are so ready for this marriage, and for the life ye will build with him.”
Eva rested her head against her mother’s shoulder for a moment. “I am ready, Maither, though me heart beats fast with excitement and nerves. I hope I will be the wife Connor deserves.”
Annabeth chuckled softly. “Eva, ye already have the heart for it, and ye will learn the rest in time. Let yer love guide ye, and it will be enough.”
Jason tugged at Eva’s sleeve again. “Sister! Catch me if ye can!”
Eva smiled, letting go of her mother to chase her brother. Laughter filled the courtyard as Annabeth watched them, her eyes misting with happiness.
Eva paused, breathing heavily as she bent to scoop Jason into her arms.
The children’s laughter echoed across the castle courtyard as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
She felt a growing certainty that she could rise to the responsibilities ahead, and her heart filled with anticipation for the life to come with Connor.
Even as the wedding loomed, the happiness of this moment grounded her, reminding her of why she fought to be here, in the castle, with the family she loved.
After tiring from running with her brother, Eva pressed a gentle kiss to her mother’s cheek before rising.
“I’ll see ye later, Maither,” she murmured, trying to steady her racing heart.
She walked toward the great hall. When she saw Margaret approaching, her breath caught, and she felt a nervous flutter in her stomach.
Margaret’s eyes softened as she drew near. “Ah, Miss Eva,” she said warmly. “Come, sit with me and have some tea. We have much to discuss about the weddin’ preparations.”
Eva curtsied lightly, nerves prickling her skin. “Thank ye. I would be honored.” She took the offered chair, settling beside Margaret, careful not to fidget.
Margaret poured the tea, steam curling from the delicate cup. “Now, let us speak plainly,” she said, her tone firm but kind. “Connor told me that yer weddin’ clothes have arrived.”
Eva’s cheeks warmed. “Aye, they have. I like them very much. Brawna did an excellent job.”
Margaret smiled. “I am pleased to hear it. A bride should feel proud in her dress, and ye will look well, I am certain.”
Eva took a sip of her tea, trying to calm the flutter in her chest.
“We should discuss the foods to be served at the weddin’ as well,” Margaret continued, setting down her cup. “Connor has ideas, but I wish to hear yers. Ye are to be Laird McLaren’s bride, after all.”
Eva hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Aye? I thought a roasted ham, root vegetables, fresh bread, cheeses… and perhaps some sweet treats for the children, like little tarts and spiced buns.”
Margaret’s eyes twinkled. “A fine choice, lass. Simple yet hearty, like a true Scottish feast. The people will be satisfied, and it suits the occasion.”
Eva felt a little surge of pride. “Connor will be pleased, I hope,” she said softly.
Margaret chuckled. “He will be, but now we must speak of the clans attending. We shall have the MacGregor and the Stewart families… and a few of the smaller neighboring clans. The village is buzzin’ with the news that the Laird is marryin’ one of their own, instead of some spoiled daughter of another laird. ”
Eva blinked, a warmth rising in her chest. “The village… it feels like family to me. They have always been so kind and welcomin’.”
Margaret nodded approvingly. “That is good to hear, lass. A bride who respects her people will be loved in turn. Ye are learnin’ well, and I am proud of ye already.”
Eva exhaled, a little of her nervousness ebbing away. “Thank ye. I only hope I do well enough to honor Connor and the McLaren name.”
Margaret reached across the table, placing a steady hand over Eva’s.
“The Laird chose ye for reasons beyond mere appearances. He sees yer heart, and it is strong and true.”
Eva felt her cheeks warm again, and she tried to hide the small smile tugging at her lips.
“I hope he kens how grateful I am… for all he has done, and for… everythin’.”
Margaret chuckled softly. “Aye, he does. But ye must also ken, child, a laird’s wife carries duties. Ye will be expected to host, to attend to the people, have heirs, and to keep the household runnin’ smoothly. Yet I have nay doubt ye will manage, for ye have the right spirit.”
Eva nodded solemnly, feeling the weight of responsibility but also a quiet excitement. “I will do me best. I truly will.”
Margaret smiled, lifting her teacup. “Then we shall toast to that, lass. To yer weddin’, and to the happiness ye shall bring to the clan.”
Eva lifted her cup as well, the warm tea filling her palms and grounding her.
“To the weddin’… and to servin’ the people of the clan well,” she said, her voice steadying.
Margaret leaned back, eyes twinkling. “Now, let us speak more of the guest list. The MacGregors will arrive at dawn the day of the weddin’, and the Stewarts are sendin’ their chieftain. We must ensure all have proper lodgin’ and that the feasts are plentiful.”
Eva listened intently, jotting down mental notes. “I will make sure everythin’ is ready. I want them to feel welcome… as if they are visitin’ their own home.”
Margaret nodded in approval. “Aye, that is the heart of a true Lady McLaren. Ye think of others before yerself, and that will be remembered long after the weddin’ day. Now, tell me more about the decorations. Ye were sayin’ something of garlands and flowers?”
Eva brightened, leaning forward with excitement. “Aye! I thought of wildflowers from the village, daisies and lavender, and ribbons in the clan colors. They will be woven along the railings and tables, and perhaps tied in me hair.”
Margaret clapped her hands softly, delighted. “That is perfect, child. Simple, yet beautiful. Ye have a good eye, and the people will see that the bride herself cares for the details.”
Eva felt her chest lift with pride, a warmth spreading through her as she imagined the wedding day arriving, surrounded by family, friends, and Connor. She realized, in that moment, that she truly belonged, not just to the castle, but to the life she was building there.