Page 6 of A Highlander's Bride

“Ye did well at the competition. I was quite how taken with how ye and Gregory took most of the awards.”

Daniel moved to the seat next to Lady Munro. She turned to him with the bright smile of a mother trying to marry off one of her offspring. It was one he’d seen before and had always successfully avoided, until now. “’Tis sorry I am that Lady Beth is no’ here yet, but when I stopped by her bedchamber a little while ago, she said she would be down shortly.”

Daniel waved to one of the kitchen lasses who took a peek in the room. “Lass, please bring me some ale.” He turned to the laird. “Would ye or yer wife like a refill? Or something else to drink?”

“Nay, yer chatelaine was verra gracious. She is a lovely lass.”

The young maid dipped and left for the kitchen.

Just then Lady Munro sucked in a deep breath as she stared acrossthe room, her hand on her chest, her eyes wide.

He looked where she was gaping at a young lass shuffling toward them. She was quite plump and was dressed in the ugliest dress he’d ever seen. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the back of her head. She wore spectacles and when he looked down at her feet as she hobbled along, she was wearing what looked like lad’s shoes that were apparently too large for her.

She carried a ball of yarn and two knitting needles. She walked up to them and dipped. “Good morn, Laird.”

Lady Munro seemed to recover herself, but she glared at her daughter. “Laird, this is my daughter, Lady Beth Munro.” It sounded like she was choking trying to get the words out.

Laird Munro scowled at the lass, so Daniel assumed this was not her normal attire. He squelched the desire to laugh. ’Twas obvious this lass was not interested in him, or marriage to him.

“Good morn, Lady Beth. I am glad ye have joined us.”

She nodded and sat in the seat next to him to which he pointed. She stumbled in her shoes as she reached the seat. He held his hand out to help her.

The lass pushed her spectacles, which kept sliding down, up on her nose. She wiggled it, and he was not sure if she was trying to keep the spectacles on or if her nose itched. He was having a very hard time keeping from laughing at the lass’s antics. Meanwhile, it appeared her da was about to suffer apoplexy and her mam kept taking deep breaths.

“Would ye care to remove yer shawl, Lady Beth? Unless ye are cold?” His voice was choked with laughter, but since her parents seemed so distressed, he did his best to hold it in.

Lady Beth drew it closer. “Nay. I am verra cold.” She reached out and filled her plate with the offerings from the platter on the table. She began to eat, and after swallowing each piece of food she wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

Lady Munro groaned.

Once Lady Beth had gobbled her food down, she picked up her knitting needles and began to attempt to knit, but it was apparent she had no idea how to do it.

Conversation continued around her, with the lass not contributing at all. Her mam tried several times to get her into the conversation, but each time the lass merely grunted like an animal and continued to clack and click her needles as she created knots in her yarn.

He had never been so entertained in his life. This lass apparently had no problem expressing her likes and dislikes, even if it embarrassed her parents.

One of the guardsmen approached the table and spoke when Daniel looked at him. “Laird, the Chisholm family has arrived.”

Lady Munro gasped and stood. She reached for her daughter’s arm and pulled her up. “Excuse us, Laird, but my daughter and I need to have a conversation.”

The woman practically dragged her daughter from the great hall and up the stairs. The lass’s shoes fell off her feet, leaving one on the great hall floor and the other one at the bottom of the stairs.

About ten minutes after Lady Munro left hauling her daughter, a very large man, a very small woman and a young lass entered the great hall. Daniel stood. “Laird Chisholm, Lady Chisholm, welcome to Castle Leod.”

The man nodded. “’Tis good to meet ye, Laird.” His wife turned to her daughter and pulled her forward. “This is our daughter, Lady Alice Chisholm. I’m sure you’ll find her to be a good wife for ye.”

Well, then. Let us not beat around the bush.

He had one lass who was trying to do her best to not be selected as his wife and had dressed for the part, and another whose mam was most likely wanting a meeting with Louise to plan the wedding breakfast menu before he and her daughter had even exchanged a word.

Lady Alice offered a bleak smile, her eyes downcast. It appeared her enthusiasm didn’t meet her mam’s.

Trying to be a good host, he said, “Lady Alice, ’tis verra nice to meet ye.”

Her mam poked her in the back. “Say something, lass.”

She dipped and said, “Good morn, Laird.”