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I took in a deep breath. She’d gone to so much effort for this night. And her words: and 100% yours. Was that said in jest or with her heart?
“Are you okay? Is there another problem with the whisky? Or the poem?”
“I’m not worried about the poem, or the whisky, hen.” I schooled my face into a neutral expression. “Is everything all right with ye and your family back home?”
“Yes, Mum loved my outfit for tonight. I think she’s posted it to all her friends in group chat.” Her brow creasing slightly. “Are you sure you’re okay, Stuart?”
“Hen, looking upon ye now, I’m the proudest man here.”
She smiled, a faint blush tinting her cheeks.
“C’mon, man!” Robert bellowed behind me. “Hi there, Amanda. Ye look lovely tonight. Great tartan.”
“Hi Robert. I’m very much looking forward to this evening.”
I shot Robert a look. “Haud your wheesht, man! I’m coming when I’m coming!”
“The Laird wants to have a quick word about the proceedings before we get started.”
I cursed under my breath.
“Come on, let’s go,” Amanda linked her arm around mine. “Show me what Burns Night is about.”
* * *
Amanda
So, this is Burns Night. I ogled the dining hall, decorated with fairy lights. Garlands of flowers adorned the tables: dark pink roses, thistles, and heather with sprays of eucalyptus leaves. A little part of Australia in this place. I plucked a couple gum leaves and secured them in my sash pin. Chairs were covered in a pearl fabric and a sash wrapped the back, with a spring of heather poking out of the bow. Four fireplaces, each with marble mantles, were lit with roaring fires.
“The Laird had the flowers flown in from overseas. Even the thistles,” Stuart whispered in my ear. “I see ye found the gum leaves.”
“I did and I love it.” I grinned, running the gum leaves through my fingers. “Mum said we have a thistle carved on the lintel of our shepherd’s hut and she’s pretty sure it’s as old as our homestead that James built himself. Used to have more huts in the back country but we only one remaining now.”
I shook my head in wonder at the room and found myself staring at the table runners. “The tartan on the table is different to my keyring.”
I pulled my MacDougall heritage tartan keyring from my clutch. The runners were more garish, bright colours of chilli red, blue and green with a fine white stripe. Where the blue crossed the red, it appeared purple. The flowers matched the tartan tones perfectly.
“Aye, you’re right.” A stranger spoke with a familiar voice. “Ye have the ancient MacDougall tartan on that keyring.”
I looked over my shoulder and found Lachlan MacDougall, Laird of Gallanach House and Dunollie Castle as well as Chairman of the Board for the distillery.
“And welcome, Amanda. Glad ye accepted my invitation.”
“I’m delighted to be here,” I replied with a big grin. “I’ve never experienced anything quite like this.”
“I’ve heard nothing but praise for your work so far on the audit. Consider tonight a token of my thanks as Chairman of the Board.” He pointed to my keyring. “It’s hard to get the ancient tartan printed for decoration purposes. But modern or ancient, it’s our tartan all the same. Now if you’ll excuse me, Laird duties beckon for the evening.”
Everyone was called to find their seats and, despite sitting beside Stuart, we barely spoke. Guests constantly approached him to congratulate him on his whisky. Stuart politely thanked them all.
Soon, bagpipes warmed up and a procession of men carried a haggis on a platter through the tables. Lachlan addressed the haggis to the cheer from the crowd and with an impressive dagger-like knife, he cut the casing with a swift movement. Lachlan then invited us to raise our glasses in a toast to the haggis.
And then the food! Entrée was cock-a-leekie soup followed by haggis, served with turnips and potatoes, which I was surprised to find I liked, followed by venison pie with wilted greens on the side.
When I was fit to burst, an MC came forward with a microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen of Lorn! I now call upon a representative of Oban’s own distillery, Stuart McAlister, CEO of McAlister’s of Gallanach, to come forth and entertain us with some Burns!”
Stuart swallowed hard. We locked eyes. In a flash, I saw hope, fear and pride.
