Page 62 of The Lion

“I have briefly.” The corner of his mouth lifted acknowledging he knew what she was up to.

They walked a bit longer in silence until reaching the gates. Isobel touched his forearm. “Thank ye for setting my mind at ease. I feel much better.”

Isobel called for Albie to follow and she headed to the kitchen entrance. She hoped to retrieve the meaty bone so that the dog would eat.

“If ye would add some honey, oats, and perhaps a bit of chopped apple, it would make for a marvelous pudding…” Beatrice, who stood atop a chair stirring a huge pot, looked over and brightened at seeing Isobel.

She neared and sniffed at what smelled to be spiced porridge. “What are ye doing?”

“Making food for the men. This is much better than that insufferable pottage they are making out there.”

Always bothering their cook at home, Beatrice was indeed a good cook in her own right. Isobel neared. “It certainly smells delicious.”

Greer looked on from the table with a pleased smile. “It isn’t often that I am ordered to sit and rest while someone takes over the kitchen duties.”

Moments later, Beatrice climbed down from the chair and hugged Isobel. “Any news?”

“No,” Isobel replied. “I spoke to Caelan, and he gave me reassurance that Darach would be returned unharmed once Laird Uisdein sees the size of the army outside his keep.”

“And well he should. Although it would probably be a good idea to attack once he does. Teach him a lesson.”

“Beatrice!” Isobel’s eyes rounded. “That would be horrible.”

“I do not agree,” her sister said with a firm nod. “Men like him need a good reminder of what could happen if they continue down certain paths.”

Not sure what to say, Isobel looked to Greer who was no help as she’d fallen asleep. When she turned to the doorway, Caelan stood there with a soft smile.

“I find I agree with ye Miss Beatrice. A good lesson would be my choice if I were Duncan.”

Interesting combination, Isobel thought, her sister and Caelan Ross. Both intelligent and perhaps Beatrice’s playful nature would be a good balance to Caelan’s reclusive one.

“Beatrice, Caelan informed me that he and Duncan are the same age.”

Her sister looked to the man for a moment. “Ye seem younger.”

“Why is that?”

“It could be that ye dress more like an Englishman than a Scot.”

Isobel coughed at Beatrice’s words. Admittedly, she’d thought the same thing, but would never say it out loud.

To her surprise, Caelan burst out laughing. “It could be because I lived in the south for so long that I dress like they do. I assure ye I own a plaid and plenty of woolen tunics.”

Her sister gave him a once-over, then climbed back onto the chair. “The porridge will be done soon.” She looked to a lad who sat on a stool waiting for instructions. “Go fetch a pair of men to help carry this out.”

“I will scoop out some for us,” Isobel said noting Caelan remained. He was studying her sister with curiosity. “Would ye like some pudding, Caelan?”

“Aye, I would.”

By the time last meal came, Isobel was almost too exhausted to eat. Along with Lady Mariel, Ella, and Beatrice, she’d gone to help feed the men. They’d then helped the laundresses with the folding of sheets and preparing bundles of bedding in case any of the men returned injured. She’d instructed the great hall to be thoroughly swept after the few people that came to speak to Caelan had left.

He along with the council had spent the afternoon speaking to the warriors and inspecting the horses. She’d caught Beatrice watching him as he helped lads carry firewood into the house. During times like these, there was no time for idleness.

Isobel trudged up the stairs and into her and Darach’s bedchamber. Annis walked in with her. “There is hot water in the pitcher and clean cloths on the stand.” She went to a trunk and pulled out a nightdress. “I will help ye get ready for bed.”

After undressing, Isobel washed away the dirt of the day. She then sat so that Annis could brush her hair out. “Will ye stay a moment and pray with me?” Isobel asked.

“Of course.”