A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,90

said. “But, don’t worry, it’s all perfectly partitioned.”

Mrs. Grace waved a hand at him. “That’ good enough for me,” she said. “You may assign Lady Elizabeth your daughter’s room, and I thank you kindly.”

“Oh, no!” said Elizabeth, but Mrs. Grace held up a hand in that way she had when matters were already settled. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “You take the room, dear.”

“But—”

“No buts,” said Mrs. Grace. “I’ll be perfectly fine. And anyway, I can hardly tolerate my own snoring. If we share, you’ll be baggy eyed and fit for no one’s company, much less prepared to meet your darling groom.”

“I would be happier to share,” argued Elizabeth.

“No,” said Mrs. Grace. “I won’t allow it. How much?” she inquired of the innkeeper.

“Half a crown for the both o’ ye. Supper’ll be extra.”

“Very well,” said Mrs. Grace, and with that, she removed the proper remuneration from her reticule and asked, “Shall I pay you directly?”

“Oh, no,” said the man. “Gi’ all remittance to Mrs. Pitagowan, else she’ll put my arse in the snow with Hadley.” His blush returned, as he pointed toward the woman who’d already yelled at him once. “Bess,” he said. “She’s o’er there.”

Mrs. Grace pointed as well, and he nodded, then her faithful companion grasped Elizabeth by the arm and squeezed gently, and said, “Sleep well, dear.” And suddenly she was away, leaving Elizabeth to deal with the innkeeper.

“So ye’re going tae meet yer groom?” he said, once again tugging at his beard.

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Inverness?”

“Yes, sir.” The man was entirely too forward; still Elizabeth held her tongue, looking wistfully over her shoulder at Mrs. Grace, who was now conversing quite amenably with “Bess” “o’er there.” It never failed to impress her that Mrs. Grace could so easily get along with anyone—unlike Elizabeth, who hadn’t a good conversational bone in her body. But it really mustn’t be entirely unexpected, when she’d been left to fend for herself for most of her life.

And anyway it was never on her own behalf that she became nettled; nothing ever got her dander up more than the disaffection of others.

Elizabeth waited whilst the man searched the myriad of keys on his belt, and then he smiled congenially and led the way into a scullery, where he hollered to a young boy to light the fire in Carrie’s room, and to change the bed sheets. Afterward, he led Elizabeth into another smaller room, then stopped before an old, iron-banded door.

“So, then, who’s the lucky groom?” he asked as he slid a big black key into the lock. “Is it Douglass?”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“Mackintosh?”

“No sir. I’ll be pledging my…”

“Ach, now, dinna tell me, it must be MacKinnon!” He shook his head sadly, and said, “Poor bastard.” He jiggled the knob, then opened the door to let her in.

The room itself was quite cozy, with a small brick fireplace and an adjoining door at the far side of the room. “Is that perhaps another guest room?” she asked, hopefully.

“Nay,” he said, shaking his head. “Tis my daughter’s closet.”

“May I use it to store my valise?” She lifted the heavy bag in her hand, only belatedly realizing that he had never once bothered to offer to carry it—not that this itself should bother her overmuch. Elizabeth had long been of the mind that a woman could carry her own bag. It was rather his unhelpful demeanor.

“Nay,” he said again. “Tis locked. We’ve had some guests snooping of late, and my daughter’s no’ too keen on it. Also,” he said with a lift of his brow. “No baths. Ain’t no one about to draw you any water. And if you want tae sup, ye’ll be more’n welcome in the hall. Mrs. Pitagowan makes a fine stew, and I believe she’s got some frumenty as well.”

“Frumenty?”

“Pudding,” he said, “wheat boiled in milk, with cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger, made special for the holiday, all very expensive!”

“Thank you,” said Elizabeth, and then he was gone.

Still, she wasn’t alone. She waited patiently for the young man who’d rushed in after them to finish lighting the hearth fire, and then change the bedsheets. After he left as well, Elizabeth closed the door. As weary as she was, she set down her valise in the middle of the room and went to test the bed, considering how hungry she might be—perhaps not enough to brave the randy lot in the tavern. And anyway, she doubted she would see Mrs. Grace again this evening. Her companion was not the sort to dally before