Elspeth stared at her. She couldn’t be more than twenty and yet she already possessed passion and empathy—just as her brother did. Elspeth liked her.
“Och, aye,” Logan said suddenly, as if he just remembered. They all looked at him. “Elspeth and I were wed by a Catholic priest earlier today.”
His sister covered her mouth with her hand but was smiling beneath it. His father exhaled and gave him a hesitant smile. “People will make things more difficult fer ye both because of yer different beliefs.”
“If that is the hardest thing we have to face together, we will be fine,” Logan laughed.
“Elspeth,” his mother cried, going to her. “Welcome to Tor Castle, Daughter.”
His father gave in with a handsome smile. Ealar wore a haughty expression that said he knew it all along. His sister and mother both squealed with delight, and his cousins all smiled at her and nodded their approval.
Finally, Elspeth thought, sighing with the relief of six years filling her like the air when she breathed, finally she was part of a family again. It didn’t escape her who the family was. She didn’t care. She had found her home in Logan and her family in the Camerons.
She and her husband were given a large room at the end of a short corridor. When they came to the door, Logan stopped and turned to her. “I dinna expect ye to do what ye dinna wish to do.”
“Right now,” she said shyly, “I wish to do everything with ye.”
His eyes lit with a fire from within. She covered her throat with her hand and laughed when he opened the door and pulled her inside.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Logan stole intothe Main Hall before Cook woke for the day. Cook did not like folks near his food until it was served. If caught, Logan would not be able to eat anything Cook prepared for him for at least a month. The crabby cook was known to put ‘things’ into the food of those who wronged him. The Lochiel kept him on because the untainted food he prepared was the best in the region, that is, besides Logan, whose dishes were even better. Logan had no desire to be Tor’s cook.
Normally, he would not test Cook’s ire, but this morning, he wanted to eat alone with Elspeth. So, he took a basket and filled it with a variety of berries and bread. He added a jar of fig jam, a clump of sweet butter, and two cups. In his free hand, he scooped up a jug of water. He carried it all, along with a victorious smile, out of the kitchen…and straight into Cook.
“Ye will never change, will ye, Master Cameron,” Cook accused, crossing his arms over his chest. “It has always been ye creepin’ aroond my kitchen.”
Logan remained silent during the scolding. It was better than angering Cook more and risking losing his supper.
“Aye, ever since ye were a bratling, if food was missin’, ye were always guilty.”
Logan didn’t let his emotion show when he thought of all the times it wasn’t him.
“But after ye left, I found oot that ’twas Jamie, that thievin’ bas—”
He stopped when Logan held up his hand. Cook shouldn’t think it was all right to curse Logan’s cousins.
“Jamie canna help bein’ hungry all the time. He is still growin’.”
“Then let us hope that he doesna grow any more if it will keep him oot.”
Did Logan hear him right? Did Cook just invite him to hope Jamie dies?
Logan had been patient enough. When he was Lochiel, he would get rid of Cook. “And let me remind ye that the food in this kitchen is provided by the Lochiel, my father. ’Tis all his, and as his son, ’tis all mine. If one of my cousins helps himself to food, he has my blessin’.”
Cook stared at him in utter surprise. He opened his mouth to say something.
“And if I discover that, after this day, ye put somethin’ in his food or mine, I will have ye hanged.”
“May I—”
“Do ye understand?” Logan demanded. It was the only thing he wanted Cook to answer.
“Aye,” Cook managed begrudgingly.
“Good. I left the black bread. It felt fresher. I want it served at my kin’s table.”
Cook nodded, and Logan went back to smiling and his path to the stairs.
