“I would hope so,” Alasdair replied, taking a long sip of wine. “She’s yer new lady.”
Nathan leaned in. “Do ye think the council and the rest will approve of her when ye announce it tomorrow?”
Alasdair leaned forward, elbows on the table. “We’ll find out soon enough. Until then, everything she asks for must be granted.”
They ate in easy silence after that, the clink of knives and the warmth of the fire easing the weight of the day.
When his plate was clean and his cup was drained, Alasdair stood up. “Gentlemen, I believe I’ll retire for the night.”
Finn raised his cup in salute. “Ye deserve it. And tomorrow, I’ll meet yer wife properly. She must be quite different from the lass I remember.”
Alasdair hesitated, then smirked. “Well, she’s nay longer the daughter ye recall.”
“The daughter I recall wouldnae have done that,” Finn responded, gesturing toward his thigh.
“Ye are correct. She is grown now,” Alasdair said.
Finn nodded solemnly. “Aye. But still, we must honor her the way we once honored Captain Blackwood.”
Alasdair inclined his head. “Agreed.”
He turned and walked away. He was halfway down the passage to his room when Daisy appeared again, breathless from rushing up the stairs.
“Me Laird?”
He paused, already loosening his collar. “What is it, Daisy?”
She shifted from one foot to the other, her hands twisting in her apron. “There’s been… a slight change to yer sleeping arrangements.”
Alasdair folded his arms across his chest. “What sort of change?”
Daisy swallowed, her eyes darting toward the hall behind him.
“A very… particular kind, me Laird.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Well?” he said, his voice low. “Are ye going to spit it out or nae?”
Lily moved along the row of soldiers one last time before she allowed herself to think of bed. She was exhausted from both the journey and attending to the wounded soldiers the whole day, but she needed to make sure that everything was all right. At least given the circumstances.
The hall was dimly lit now, and the glow of the oil lamps threw long shadows on the walls. The smell of herbs lingered in the air, and the bitter tang of medicine filled her nostrils.
She paused beside Davie, a tall soldier with a bandaged chest.
“How are ye feeling now?” she asked, glancing at the maid beside him.
“He’s doing fine, me Lady,” the maid answered quickly. “Most of them are. Only Stewart over there…” She pointed across the row. “He’s still flushed and red as an apple. I thought it might be from the wound, but…”
Lily’s eyes followed the maid’s hand. Stewart, a young soldier with bright brown hair, lay on the cot, trembling ever so slightly. Her hands studied the way his fingers tightened around the thin bed covers.
“There’s a poultice in the cabinets that’ll help. Have someone put it on a clean cloth and press it gently to the swelling,” she instructed. “It should ease it.”
The maid nodded, grateful for the direction.
Lily straightened and looked down the hall. Most of the men on either row were now sleeping, and the ones who weren’t didn’t look like they were going to complain about anything. Still, she couldn’t take any chances.
She turned back to the maid. “If any of them need something during the night, will there be someone here to help?”
“Aye, me Lady. We’ll have maids working in shifts. The men willnae be left alone.”
