When she’d lived with her mother and brother, meals were merely the three of them. Simple fare in their narrow croft. She’d encountered larger groups of people on market days, yet nothing like this.
The reverberating sound alone made her ears ache, and she had to force herself not to clamp her hands over her ears. How did one hear oneself speak in this noise?
Brigid threw a reassuring smile over her shoulder and dragged Tosia to a table not far from the kitchen entryway.
“Dinna fret, lass,” Brigid said loudly, helping her sit. “Ye will get used to it soon enough.”
She would? Tosia gave Brigid a tight smile in return. She couldn’t imagine ever growing accustomed to this noise, this many people.
Brigid pointed to her left. “The Bruce sits aloft, and your man, James, sits on his right, always. Yet James wanted to know ye are here, so I will tell him afore I return to the kitchens. Dinna be surprised if he searches ye out or sends someone to sit with ye.”
“Sends someone?” Tosia asked, her hand clenched in her skirts. “What—”
But Brigid was gone, threading her way expertly through the mass of rough men and several of their women toward the raised table at the front of the hall. Brigid leaned in toward the Black Douglas, who cut a fine figure in a burgundy-brown tunic that fit his powerful chest and strapping shoulders as though ‘twas crafted just for him. His eyes, a deep forest gray-green in the heated light of the hall, found her, and the steeled, brooding lines of his face relaxed. He bowed his head at her, and Tosia, her blood burning from her head to her wame, nodded back.
A rustling next to her drew her attention from the darkly hard man at the front of the room. A blonde woman, so beautiful it pained the eyes to look on her too long, settled gracefully on the bench next to Tosia. Her mouth popped open, meaning to ask who she was, then snapped shut — her surprise robbing her of any words that might form.
The stunning woman gave Tosia a slip of a smile, one that might have readily calmed her if she wasn’t in such a state as it was. Tosia’s lips parted again, in an effort to greet the beauty, when another woman sat across from her, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the rugged din of men’s voices.
“Ye must be Tosia, the lass who’s to wed James Douglas?” she inquired without pause. Her forthright manner stole Tosia’s words, leaving her speechless again.
This woman held her own beauty, a refined, almost regal loveliness, with rich chestnut hair that fell in a river around her shoulders and silver eyes that focused on Tosia as forcefully as knives. Tosia choked on her own breath as she tried to nod.
Who are these women?
The refined woman’s face split into a wide-mouthed smile. “Och, then. We’re in the right place. Welcome to Auchinleck, lass. I’m almost certain ye did no’ receive a proper welcome when ye arrived. The king’s hall is a raucous place, to be sure.”
Tosia blinked at the woman. They were welcoming her?
“I am Lady Elayne MacNally MacCollough, lass. Wife of Laird Declan MacCollough, there.” She pointed a long, slender finger toward the well-muscled blonde man sitting at a table near the king. “And the giant bear of a man sitting next to him? He’s Declan’s second, Torin.”
Lady Elayne’s finger flicked to the blonde woman. “Her husband. This stunning woman is Caitrin. Declan is her brother.”
Tosia’s gaze snapped from one woman to the other. Was she expected to remember all this?
“Several other wives of lairds and the king’s men are here as well. Ye will meet them soon enough. But Caitrin and I well know how rough and tumble men can be, now they don’t stand on etiquette, so we wanted to make sure ye were welcomed properly.”
The woman finally paused. Tosia cleared her throat, trying to find her voice.
“Thank ye,” she said, uncertain if the woman heard her over the deep chatter of the men.
Both women smiled at her, and the blonde Caitrin rested a light hand on Tosia’s arm.
“Dinna fret. I well know how daunting it can be here.” The woman’s voice was gentle, a perfect match to her features. “But keep in mind, ye are no’ alone. Call on us if ye need anything, even if ‘tis the company of women among these loud men.”
Tosia gave the woman a tight smile, words still absent from her lips. Why had these women sought her out? Why were they being so kind? She was nothing more than a beleaguered orphan in the king’s home. Their kind words, though, did their job, soothing Tosia, and she appreciated them.
A roar of laughter from the front of the hall drew their attention, and they turned their heads. James’s glinting eyes caught Tosia’s, and she dropped her face to her hands in her lap.
She suddenly knew why they were offering their welcome and company. Not for her, but for the man she was to wed, for the darkly handsome and imposing second in command to the king.
The evening meal passedquickly, for which Tosia was grateful. Declining assistance and a bath from the effervescent Brigid, she unlaced her kirtle and hung it on a peg near her narrow bed, then lay on the crinkling straw mattress clad only in her shift. The sound of hay as she shifted was a calming one, the same as her own bedding she’d had in her mother’s house.
Her entire body ached to her very bones, and her eyes burned behind her lids. She was beyond exhausted from the events of the day and was certain sleep would claim her quickly. Though her eyes were tired, her mind was not, and continued to flip through everything she’d encountered over the day.
At the evening meal, she’d only picked at her food. The Lady and Caitrin were in demand, and once they finished their meals, they’d bid farewell to Tosia. Lady Elayne had reminded Tosia to search her out for any need, then departed with Caitrin to attend other concerns.
Once they’d left, Tosia wasn’t certain what to do with herself. Her gaze flicked back to the head table and James, whose hooded gaze remained on her as though she might flee the hall. In truth, she’d considered it. She wanted to escape the hall, find Tavish at the stables, run as far as she could with him.
