“Ye are requested to supper, Miss, but if ye would like to have yer meal here—”
“No, no,” Mary rushed and winced at how she had cut the woman off with unnecessary force. “I’ll be at supper. Will you give me a moment to get myself together?”
“Of course, Miss,” the servant said as she stepped away. “I’ll be just outside.”
When the door closed, Mary went to her sack and took another dress, a dark green one that was not as soiled as the one she had on. She then took out her comb, had the tangles out in moments and curtaining around her shoulders. She would have pinned all her hair up with combs, but she had left them all behind.
Following the maid, Mary made it to the great hall. From halfway down the corridor, Mary could hear noise and merrymaking inside. The woman held the door open for her, and swallowing over a dry throat, Mary stepped inside. The moment she did, the uproar of the hall quickly dipped to a hush, but she spotted Leith at the high table, next to Laird Robasdan, and some more people, and locking her eyes on him, made her way there.
The hush began to change back into happy chatter. She went to the high table just as Leith came for her and took her hand. She ducked her head as she could feel the stares of the people digging into her back and front. Her cheeks were getting pink as Leith helped to a seat. She was not expecting him to dip his head and whisper, “Ye look lovely, lass. Dinnae mind them.”
Uncomfortable with being the center of the clan’s attention, Mary tried to take Leith’s words to heart, “Thank you,” she replied, her voice as shaky as the trembling in her legs.
The table was not as long as she would have expected. It was short and rough to encourage conversation but long enough to meet the standards of what a lord’s table should be. She met the smiling eyes of Lady Robasdan, at one end of the table with her husband, who lifted her goblet to her and Mary felt comforted by her look. Laird Robasdan was speaking to a woman over his shoulder who looked at her and nodded quickly. Mary tensed a little but decided to not overthink it.
There were three men and two women sitting along the length of the table, and she met their gazes briefly. One of the women and two of the men had a vague resemblance to Laird Robasdan.
“Miss Thompson,” Leith said, “Meet Logan and Adair Allanach, Laird Robasdan’s cousins, and Conall Smithson, the Laird’s steward.”
The two younger men had thick dark hair and blue-green eyes, one lighter than the other. The steward was bald but his gaze was sharper than an eagle with its sights on prey. She shivered under his look but managed to smile at him. His stare mellowed as he gave her a tiny nod.
“Lady Davina McCreery and Lady Catriona Tulloch,” Leith finished. “Lady Robasdan’s closest friends.”
“So, yer the Sassenach,” Lady McCreery huffed, with her nose tilting up in disdain.
“Sassenach?” Mary said in confusion.
“It means outsider, dear,” Lady Tulloch said kindly while shooting a scathing look to the other woman. Somehow, Mary doubted that was all it meant. “Ye ken, I’ve been planning to go to England soon. What are the newest fashion trends at home?”
“I cannot tell you, Lady Tulloch,” Mary said kindly, “I was kept away from things like that. Though we had wealth, my parents lived very simple lives. The last thing I can remember being made of silk was a gown and a ribbon I had when I was seven. I’ve been wearing plain cotton from then and I am three-and-twenty.”
A surprised look crossed the Lady’s face. “My, my, dear, ye’ve shocked me. I was here kenning that all ye English ladies made it a point to be fashionable in all seasons.”
“Some do,” Mary replied, “and the Lords too, but I am not one of them.”
“Well, good for you dear,” Lady Tulloch said then turned to speak with her companion.
Mary let out a small breath and then looked over to the people in the hall. She turned to Leith who was sitting beside her, “Where are these people from then?”
“Besides us,” Leith began, “are some nobles, but in the hall are the Laird’s servants, all from the groundsman to the headman.”
“He eats with his servants?” Mary dropped her voice to a nearly strangled whisper. The very notion felt absurd to her. Back home, it was unspeakable for a lord to dine with his servants. “Truly?”
“Truly,” Leith nodded. “Do ye like wine?” Leith asked as he settled beside her.
“I don’t drink it much,” Mary admitted. “My family had it rarely even though we had stacks of it in our cellar. When I do drink it, I like it sweet.”
Leith’s gesture to someone was a bit curious and soon her goblet was being filled. She tasted the wine and was shocked that is was rich and sweet.
“How did you get this?”
“The clan had codes and gestures for everything,” Leith grinned over his goblet. “I picked up on a few.”
Mary sipped her wine as the large doors to the side opened and people bearing many trays came in. Platters of meats, dark beef, fowl baked golden, venison and even steamed fish covered with carrots and vegetables were carried in to be served.
She didn’t know what to do at first, but following what the Ladies did, she reached for the platters and took slivers of beef, roasted fowl and baked beets brushed with honey. She took a roll of bread too and ate. Her family might have curtailed a lot of things, but food was not one of them. She had beef before but it was not this spiced and savory. Making the mistake of using the tip of her
