commanding to me.”
“Och, His Lordship is very commanding, but I reckon he inherited a bit of his mother’s kindhearted nature. I say, if a crofter is unable to pay his rents, Angus will work with him to improve his lot, where Alasdair would have demanded payment and given a very short time for the man to make amends.”
“Is that so?”
“Aye. Ye ought to be comfortable here, if not happy.” Freya waved the drying cloth. “Come now, ye must hasten to dress. There will no’ be time to dry your tresses, but I’ll make plaits and roll them into caul nets and ye’ll be the bonniest woman in the great hall, mark me.”
Anya sniggered as she stood and took the cloth, quickly hiding her nudity. “I rather doubt it.”
It didn’t take long to don the new clothes, and the maid proved quite efficient tending her hair. By the time Freya rubbed a salve into her palm and wrapped it in a fresh dressing, Anya had almost run out of excuses to avoid the feast—except for one. She peered down at her hem, kicking out a foot. “My sister would wear this gown far better than I. I’m afraid ’tis too long for me.”
“Not to worry, I’ll fetch a needle and thread straightaway. It won’t take me but a moment.” The maid hastened to her sewing basket. “Her Ladyship will see to it ye visit the tailor to be measured for new clothes on the morrow.”
Anya nodded, realizing the MacDonalds would be providing her clothing for years to come. “My thanks,” she whispered, her shoulders sagging.
“Come, lass, ye’ve not but to make the best if it. I ken it will take time, but if ye let us, we will prove we are not an evil clan.” Freya kneeled and started hemming. “And ye look radiant. The plaits coiled about your ears are lovely, even if I do say so myself. Might I add that the Dowager Lady Islay chose well. The green in your gown makes your eyes sparkle like jewels.”
Anya patted the netting covering the braids. She hadn’t ever worn caul nets before, but they did hold her hair secure, and the style made no difference if her tresses were wet or dry.
“There ye are, ’tisn’t my best work but it will set ye to rights for the evening,” said Freya, standing back and examining her work.
Taking a few steps, Anya tested the length. “That’s better. At least if I trip, it shouldn’t be because of my hem.”
The maid laughed as another knock sounded at the door. “’Tis time to head for the hall, miss,” came the gruff voice of the guard. “Her Ladyship requires your presence.”
“Go on,” urged Freya. “Ye must be famished.”
Taking in a deep breath, Anya wrung her hands as the maid opened the door. Aye, she was off to the Saint Valentine’s Day feast, but this meal was in the wrong castle, among a clan she’d considered enemies only two days past.
The old guard led the way down the wheeled stairway, the sounds from a busy hall echoing off the stone walls and the rich scent of roasted meat making her mouth water. When she’d first arrived at the fortress, Anya was so nervous, she’d forgotten her hunger, but now her mouth watered in anticipation of a meal. She intended to eat her fill, keep her eyes lowered, and escape to her chamber as quickly as possible.
As they entered the great hall, the rumble from the crowd reduced to a low hum. Stopping for a moment, she glanced across the faces—all gaping at her. She could swear the low mummers were about the daughter of Lord Guy O’Cahan, who would be held at Dunyvaig until the king could make a trade for her and who knew how many others in exchange for Elizabeth.
“Follow me, miss,” said the guard, leading her into an aisle separating numerous tables, filled with dozens of MacDonalds, doubtless waiting for her to stumble.
Anya’s face burned as she kept her gaze focused on the guard’s feet, his boots clomping on the stone floor. About halfway along, he stopped and stepped aside. She swept her gaze across the people crowded shoulder to shoulder onto the benches and wondered if they might be able to make room, at least long enough for her to eat.
“Miss Anya.”
Startling, she recognized Islay’s voice before she saw him. And when she turned, the braw lord took her breath away. She’d thought him beautiful on the Isle of Nave, but now