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Ameilia nodded gently before turning back to her meal. “I see.”
“‘Tis the right of a lady to have a coin purse,” Jonan said to her to change the subject. “All the shops have a tab for the keep. Ye will need a signet ring to authorize purchases.” Jonan reached into the pockets of his breeches and handed her a ring.
“Thank you,” she said to him. “My father did not often use tabs. He often had to deal with large stacks of bills and spent quite a lot of time counting coins. This is far more practical.” She smiled.
Hewas baffled by how openly she spoke to him in contrast to the days prior. I cannae understand the woman.
“I must leave now,” he told her. “I will be back by dinner.” And with those words, he walked out.
His next stop was the stable. He'd ride to the milkmaids first, then to the farmers. Callan was already there waiting for him.
“Ready to leave?” his best friend asked.
“Aye,” Jonan nodded, stroking his black horse. “Yer horse is readied?”
“Aye. Would I wait in yer stall otherwise? I broke bread baked by our lady, and I am ready to serve our laird.” Callan grinned.
“The clan admires her already,” Jonan said with a sigh. They liked her, but he barely knew her. He felt at ease marrying his previous wife because they had grown up together. But howwould he learn enough about Amelia?
“Och, ‘tis the time when ye speak about how she seems to like everyone but ye, is it nae?” Callan said in an almost impatient voice.
“I daenae lie, ye ken.”
“Aye, I ken this but ye must remember that she is a lass.”
“A Sassenach—”
“Aye, but she is a woman still, and they are all quite similar.”
“Ye have always been a romantic,” Jonan said. “What will ye suggest? That I buy her finery?”
“Lasses do love finery and luxury, but maybe ye could talk to her for longer than a minute. Ye do need an heir, do ye nae?”
“Methinks that ye shall enjoy yer nuptials more if ye ken more about her than her name,” he continued.
Jonan sighed. “Mayhap, ye are right. Still, we must leave.” He said mounting his horse followed by Callan. Soon, they trotted out of the stable.
Both men stopped, enjoying the coolness of the morning.
“Try to keep up.”
With those words, he began to ride towards the farmlands.
* * *
The milkmaids wore tattered aprons that were suitable for dirty farm work, and lookedtired and spent, despite the fact that the workday had only just begun.
The farmlands were a large expanse of land divided into sections for various crops. At least, th e cool weather was ideal for heavy work.
Little had been done to the land. Theyhad only just begun to till the soil, and Jonan was certain he could count the number of ridges they had dug in seconds. At the rate they were going, the planting season would be over before the ridges were finished.
Just as they gathered around him, Jonan looked into the tired women's eyes, unsure what to say.
"Ye must naegive up," he urged. They werenot suited to the rigors of farm work. However, he did not believe the clan had any other options.
“We are nae trained farmers, milaird.” The comment came from a hefty-looking woman. Her eyes were tired, and she seemed exhausted.
“Aye,” Jonan nodded. “What are ye called?”
