Page 8 of To Wed a Laird (English Brides and Highland Vows #1)

CHAPTER SEVEN

It took a while, but Elspeth finally settled down to her lessons the next morning, mainly because Rose had promised to teach her how to dance that afternoon, and Elspeth was so excited that she could hardly sit still.

“But I need your word that you will concentrate on your schoolwork today,” Rose said, wagging a finger at her.

“I will,” Elspeth replied earnestly, nodding.

To Rose’s surprise, Elspeth was as good as her word, and knuckled down to her sums and her spelling without any trouble at all. Rose used the time to tidy up the room. She knew it was the maid’s job, but she could hardly sit and do nothing all morning.

She found some children’s books on a shelf that she put aside for bedtime reading, since Elspeth had told her that she was not too old for a story to lull her to sleep.

She was also trying to keep her mind off Cormac MacTavish, who intruded into her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried to keep him out of them.

Not only was he the most handsome and desirable man she had ever seen, but his damaged soul and vulnerability called out to the nurturing spirit inside her.

Rose wanted to go somewhere quiet and peaceful with him; encourage him to pour out his troubles to her, to let go of all the pent-up emotions he had been hiding behind the wall he had built around his heart.

Why did she want to do this, however? It was a question she was too afraid to answer.

Rose was not the only one with troubling thoughts.

Little did she know it, but Cormac MacTavish was also thinking about her, but in exactly the opposite way.

Yes, Rose was a beautiful woman with particularly captivating eyes and a lovely figure, the kind that would make many men lose their minds—but not him.

He would rather not be pitied, no matter how desirable he found her. No, he wanted to push her away because he was drawn to her, and he did not wish to fall under the spell of any other woman. The love of his life had left him, and there would never be another. Catherine had been his one and only.

He swallowed the rest of his ale, then contemplated the whisky bottle again. It was time he took it out of his study, he thought. It was becoming far too tempting…

Now it was almost time for supper, and he looked down at himself; he had been out riding with the guard, and he was splattered with mud. He definitely did not look his best.

Normally, he would merely have washed his hands and face and bathed before bed, but tonight he felt the need to smarten himself up. He told himself it was because he had disappointed Elspeth the night before, and he wanted to make an effort to look better for her.

However, he knew he was lying to himself. It was not just his daughter he wanted to impress; he wanted to make sure that if he bumped into Rose, he would not look like a grubby peasant.

As Cormac visualised Rose’s face in his mind’s eye, he was mesmerised again by the gaze of those dark, bewitching eyes, and cursed himself for his weakness.

He could always let her go, he told himself, yet Elspeth seemed to like her, and he could see a light in his daughter that had not been there since Catherine died.

No, he would let her stay, and harden his willpower.

That evening, Rose and Elspeth sat in the small dining room that was only for family use, and where Rose felt much more comfortable.

Even though she had spent the afternoon teaching Elspeth some English country dances, hoping that they would lift Elspeth’s spirits, the little girl still looked subdued until the food arrived.

As soon as Nell entered with a tray, which she set down on the table, Elspeth jumped to her feet and gave a delighted squeal, then clapped her hands.

Rose looked at the dish doubtfully, both curious and somewhat disgusted at the same time.

She thought that what was on the plate was meat, but there was something very strange about it.

It looked like a huge, fat, mottled sausage with meat juices dribbling down its skin, and it was the ugliest thing Rose had ever seen, yet it smelled delicious.

It had a peppery, meaty aroma that made Elspeth’s mouth water, yet she was still suspicious of it.

“Is it… breathing?” she asked cautiously.

Elspeth threw back her head and giggled heartily, and the movement of her body, which was resting on the edge of the table, made the sausage shape wobble. Rose instinctively jerked backwards, and Elspeth went into paroxysms of mirth, thumping her fists on the table.

Nell shook her head and tried to calm her down with a few stern words, but it was hopeless. Elspeth could not be soothed. This was the funniest thing she had heard in ages.

At that moment, the door creaked and opened, and Cormac entered the room. He had obviously not expected to see them, presuming they were having their meal in the Great Hall as they had the night before. He cast his eyes around the room, and Rose waited patiently to land on her finally.

Of course, she did. Those eyes were hypnotic, and always had the same mesmerising effect on her.

When Elspeth saw him, she froze, and Cormac took a deep breath and then turned to leave.

However, he had not reckoned with the speed of Rose’s reflexes. Without a second thought, she leapt to her feet and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, then held on for dear life so that he could not move without knocking her over.

“Stay,” she said, smiling widely at him. “Please eat with us, my Laird.”

Cormac hesitated for a moment, then nodded once and sat down. He watched as Rose bent over the lump on the plate and sniffed it.

“I am sure this is still alive,” she said, in a voice that was doubtful, even slightly afraid.

Cormac raised a brow as he looked at her. Rose was puzzled; she had never seen this kind of food before. There was obviously nothing like it in England.

“It is most definitely dead,” he said firmly. “This is a sheep’s stomach stuffed with oats, offal, and spices. We call it haggis, and it is our national dish.”

Rose went pale. It sounded absolutely revolting—how could these strange people eat things like this?

She shuddered, and Elspeth let out a peal of laughter—this was obviously hilarious to the girl.

Cormac raised his eyebrows again in surprise, like it was the first time in ages that he had heard his daughter laugh with such abandon.

He took a sharp knife and plunged it into the haggis, and immediately something meaty and earthy with a warm peppery aroma poured out, causing Rose’s mouth to water. It looked deeply unattractive, but she was determined to try it. She could not be seen as a coward in front of Cormac MacTavish.

Rose put a spoonful into her mouth, half-expecting the earthy mixture to be revolting, but her eyes widened in delighted surprise as she tasted it. “This is delicious,” she remarked. “Really tasty!”

The haggis was served with mashed potatoes and turnips—or neeps, as they were called—which were a perfect complement to the offal pudding.

Rose loved the combination, which practically melted in her mouth, and she almost forgot her manners as she quickly swallowed spoonful after spoonful, to the great amusement of Elspeth, who was giggling as she watched Rose eating.

Cormac was eating his own food calmly, but was surreptitiously watching Rose out of the corner of his eye, since he had always enjoyed the sight of a person enjoying their food.

It pleased him to see that Elspeth’s governess, an Englishwoman, was not turning her nose up at the unfamiliar taste of Scottish fare, as he had seen so many others do in the past.

His late wife’s mother and father had taken one look at the haggis, and after hearing what was in it, had refused to eat it without even taking a bite.

Cormac had felt ashamed then, as though his country’s food was not good enough, so he was gratified to see that Rose appreciated it so much, even though she was English.

Rose seemed to like the haggis so much that she had a second helping. Afterwards, she wiped her lips and sat back in her chair, patting her stomach. “I have been too greedy,” she said with a sigh.

Cormac smiled. “I am always happy to see people enjoying their food as much as you do,” he said, taking a sip of ale. “We should all be glad we have it, when so many people do not.”

“Indeed,” Rose agreed.

Cormac’s mind drifted to his wife’s first days in Scotland. She had been curious and bright about life in the Highlands, like Rose…

He jerked himself back to the present as Elspeth put a hand on his.

He looked at her inquiringly, at the face that was so like her mother’s except for the blue eyes she had inherited from him.

He had no idea how he had ever managed to sire such a beautiful child, and his only regret was that there had not been many more.

“Da,” Elspeth said suddenly. “I would like to learn to speak French.”

Cormac frowned, puzzled. “What gave you that idea?”

“Rose and I were talking about it,” Elspeth replied, glancing at her.

“We saw some of the men bringing in crates of wine, and she told me they came from France. Mammy could speak French, too.” Elspeth looked at Rose in open admiration.

“I can only speak English and a bit of Gaelic, and you always told me that Scots and French people were very good friends.”

“So that is why you want to learn?” Cormac was surprised, but this was good news.

He looked at her closely, and saw that her eyes were bright and eager, and he realised that it was the first time in ages that he had seen such an animated expression on her face. At that moment, she looked just like Catherine, and his heart swelled with love for her.

“Do you not like the idea?” Elspeth asked, looking as if she were prepared for disappointment.

He looked at Rose. “How well do you speak the language?” he asked.

“Très bien, Monsieur,” she answered. “Ma mère m’a appris la langue.”

Cormac looked blank, and felt a little stupid. “Pardon?” he asked.

“My mother taught me the language,” Rose said. “My grandmother was French.”

Cormac looked at Elspeth with narrowed eyes, then he smiled. “Then yes, you may learn French,” he told her. “But only after your main lessons. You can start tomorrow.”

He glanced at Rose, who was smiling with quiet joy, almost as though he had given her a gift. He smiled back at her, then he looked away quickly, unwilling to be trapped by her deep, dark eyes again, but for the first time in a long while, he felt warm inside.

Cormac suddenly looked sad again, and Rose wondered what was in his mind. His sudden mood swing was so like his daughter’s, they were more alike than they thought. It was not her place to ask, however.

Even though they were having a cosy supper together, she had to remember her place as his employee. She was not his friend or a member of the family, but someone who was paid to do a job, as he had so graciously reminded her.

Rose was annoyed that she had to keep reminding herself of this very obvious fact, but she knew why—because she found this big, strong, damaged man so very attractive.