“Violet!” Keira exclaimed, happiness transforming her face into that of the sweet girl she knew. “Ye came to join us?”
“Yes, I have. Unless you do not want me to?” Violet asked, smiling at Grannie Ava in greeting before taking her seat.
“I want ye to,” Keira said eagerly, her face bright with excitement. “Cook makes very delicious meals.”
This was something Violet already knew: the cook at Castle McLeod was a wonder, and she had been a beneficiary. It was one of the things that had made adjusting to her new home easier. So, the girl’s refusal to eat had no bearing on Cook’s skills.
“If ye say so,” she replied, schooling her expression into a serious one. “Why don’t you want to finish your food? You certainly need it.”
Keira’s face fell, her spoon dragging across her plate. “I daenae like porridge.”
Lifting a spoonful of porridge to her mouth, Violet made a production of how delicious it was, complete with a toss of her head, sighs of delight, and even closed her eyes to buttress her point.
But when she peeked through her lashes, she found the girl was not impressed at all. She could feel Grannie Ava vibrating beside her, doing her best to withhold her laughter.
It felt good to make the older woman laugh, but it did not stop her from feeling a bit stupid.
Clearing her throat, she gathered her composure. “I think the porridge is good,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I daenae want porridge,” Keira repeated, stubborn as a mule.
“What do ye want, then?” Violet asked.
Keira tilted her head, her brow furrowing in concentration as she considered the question. Violet knew the minute she arrived at the answer because a smile spread across her lips.
“Haggis,” she declared triumphantly, eliciting a laugh from Grannie Ava.
“Ye cannae have haggis now, wee one,” Grannie Ava said gently.
“Why, Grannie?” Keira asked, the mutinous expression returning to her face.
“Ye will have it when there is a celebration. Perhaps during yer faither’s wedding. For now, be a good lass and eat yer food.”
Keira simply folded her arms in disappointment.
“What is haggis?” Violet asked suddenly, causing them to turn to her in surprise.
“Ye have never eaten it?” Grannie Ava asked in surprise.
“No, I have not. This is the first time I have heard of it,” Violet admitted, feeling awkward beneath their shocked gazes.
“Well, it makes sense. Ye are English and have been in England most of yer life. I daenae expect ye to ken about our local meals. Haggis is one of the very best of them. Ye have to try it,” Grannie Ava said with an encouraging smile.
“It is very delicious,” Keira intoned, taking the moment to extol the goodness of what appeared to be her favorite meal.
“Daenae mind wee Keira,” Grannie Ava said with a smile. “Her hatred for porridge started some time ago after she took ill from one of her many escapades to the beach without proper clothes. She had taken to bed with a fever that was very difficult to break. We were mighty afraid that we would lose her, but the good Lord answered our prayers and restored her.
“She started to recover, but in those early days, she vomited far too much, so we were very careful. We fed her broth for a while before switching to very mashed porridge—which was a little plain, to be honest. She hated it and wished every day for actual food, but we couldnae risk it. She was deemed well eventually, a few days later, and haggis was given to her, since it was a nutritious meal.”
What is haggis? She thought.
Violet made a mental note to ask later.
“Well, Keira loved it. She ate so much of it that we feared she would get sick. She was fine, except for her obsession with haggis.”
Haggis, it seemed, was Keira’s comfort food.
“Why does she have to wait till the celebration? Meat is in storage, is it not?”
