Page 21 of Torin and His Oath (Torin and the Princess #2)

LEXI

W e woke with the dawn, the rain finally gone.

The old man and his goat had slipped away, leaving us alone as we dressed.

I was still fumbling with my plaid when the door banged open and an old woman swept in.

Without asking she marched right up to me, plucked the plaid from my hands, and began wrapping it around me. Her eyes went wide.

“Where are yer skirts, m’lady?”

“Uh… I don’t have?—”

She whirled on Torin, scolding him in a stream of Scots too thick for me to catch.

I leaned toward him, whispering, “What’s happening?”

“Madame Elspeth’s furious ye arna properly dressed. She needs ye tae hae a skirt. She’s callin’ intae question m’abilities as yer husband.”

“Did you tell her that my skirts got washed away on the river?”

Madame Elspeth waved her arms, then stormed out, muttering, slamming the door.

“Where’s she going?”

“I think tae fetch ye a skirt. I daena think we are allowed tae leave until ye are wearin’ one.”

While Torin finished dressing and went to ready the horses, I sat and waited, bored out of my mind. About fifteen minutes later she bustled back in, a bundle of wool clutched in her arms. The skirt was the color of storm clouds — coarse, plain, and heavy enough to double as a blanket.

Madame Elspeth shook it out and held it up against my waist. “Twill do.”

I stepped into it and she tied the string tight at my middle, then tugged my shirt straight. “Better than yer legs bare tae the wind.”

“Yes, true.”

She cocked her head. “Where are ye from, Mistress?”

“The New World.”

“Och, tis verra far, even farther than France!”

I nodded.

She shook out my plaid and began wrapping it around me. “Our bonny queen is in France…”

She pinned the plaid at my shoulder. Then stepped back and looked me over.

I smoothed down the front of the skirts.

The wool was rough under my fingers, and smelled faintly of smoke and wet sheep.

The fabric was gathered in thick folds, making my body more bell-shaped than I cared for.

It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t even all one color — there was a patch of brown on the side, clumsily stitched.

But it was warm, and for the first time in days, I felt dressed.

Then Torin came in and grinned. “Och aye, ye look like a bonny Scottish lass.”

“Everything is dry and warm, I feel much better after the chill last night.”

After this, Madame Elspeth softened toward Torin, and even called him a ‘good lad’.

When he pressed a coin into her hand for the skirt and the bed, and charmed her by complimenting her stew as ‘the finest in the land.’ She laughed merrily and, in return, bundled up some extra bread and cheese in a cloth for us to take along.

Then she left, wagging a finger at Torin, telling him he was a ‘verra fortunate husband,’ because I was bonny.

I grinned. “Well, that was nice, she had a good spirit for someone who’s married to an auld man who farts in his sleep.”

Torin chuckled. “All bonny lasses are married tae an auld man who farts, eventually.”

“I guess that’s true.”

We went outside and stood in the dawning sun, sharing some bread and cheese, with a little goat’s milk to drink. Dude lapped happily from a shallow plate.

I said, “But we aren’t married, glad she didn’t know that.”

“Aye, she likely would hae had a verra different opinion on us. As it stands she has invited us back, whenever we pass through here again.”

“I am never coming back here. I hope.”

He nodded and brushed crumbs from his fingers, then pulled out the vessel, staring at it in silence before tucking it back into his sporran.

I sighed. “How far until we get to the next town?”

“The first place we will come tae is Glenesk — tis nae far, perhaps ten miles or so. We will stop there for the midday meal. After that, the next town worth the name is Kirriemuir. Tis most of the day’s ride, less steep than yesterday, but many more miles.”

“Great.” I finished the last of the warm milk. “Will there be a nice inn when we get there?”

“I believe so.”

“Then I guess we ought to get going.”