Page 57 of The Highlander Who Loved Me

“Is that a snowflake I see?” James asked loudly, holding out his hand as though he were trying to catch it.

“Snow?” Lileas looked skyward. “I like snow.”

James pulled Lileas closer and lifted her in his arms. “Then we must watch to see if any more of it falls.”

James’s ploy worked—Lileas was quickly distracted by the promise of snow. Davina never would have guessed that he could have so much patience. ’Twas good to see him with the lass; she softened his harder edges and had the ability to make him smile.

Lit candles held high, they made their way slowly toward the chapel. It was much too small to hold all those who wished to hear the service, so Father Dominic said the Mass on the front steps at a makeshift altar. There was a cold wind blowing, but everyone was pressed together so tightly, they were warmed by the combined body heat.

Davina stood with the rest of the family at the front, her mouth moving silently in prayer, the familiar words of the Mass a comfort. Lileas fell asleep before the final blessing, though she muttered again about wanting to hold the babe before her father carried her off to bed. Prince followed loyally behind the pair and Davina knew having the hound in her bed would keep the lass contented.

Though the castle went to sleep late that night, all awoke with the dawn. There was an air of excitement as everyone gathered to break their fast and Davina soon realized why—they would spend the entire day in celebration!

The storytelling began before the last of the mince pies were eaten. Men, women, and even a lad or two took turns sitting in the large chair beside a roaring fire, spinning a tale. There were interruptions, along with good-natured corrections and embellishments, which produced a great deal of laughter.

The ale and wine flowed freely and the singing began after the last of the stories were told. Dark clouds were brewing outside and the ominous rumbling of thunder predicted the coming of rain, not snow, though if the temperature dipped lower, it would snow. Yet inside, the fire and fellowship kept everyone warm.

Lileas cuddled in Davina’s lap. Davina bounced the little girl in time to the music, feeling breathless after but a few songs, but was having too much fun to care. The rest of the family had disappeared; Davina assumed they were gathering the small gifts to be handed out once the singing ended.

“Come along, sweetheart. Yer grandfather has brought in the piggies.” Malcolm scooped his daughter off Davina’s lap, then turned and smiled pleasantly at her. “Will ye help us distribute them?”

“Pigs? Ye give swine as gifts?” Davina asked in astonishment.

Malcolm burst out laughing. Embarrassed, Davina followed him to the table where the gifts were assembled. There were bolts of wool, wheels of cheese, casks of ale, and rows of small clay pots with slits on the tops.

“These are the piggies,” Malcolm explained, pointing to the clay pots.

Curious, Davina watched as the families lined up to receive their gifts. Wives were given the wool and cheese, husbands the ale, and the youngest child a clay pot. There were giggles of excitement as the families moved to find a private place in the great hall to gather around their pots.

Davina’s brow rose in astonishment as she saw pot after pot being smashed to reveal the coins inside.

“I can tell by yer expression that the Armstrongs dinnae partake of this particular Christmas tradition,” Aileen remarked.

“Nay. Christmas is a quarter day, so my uncle collects the rents,” Davina replied, hardly believing how vastly different the celebrations were from those of her own family.

For the Armstrongs, Christmas was a solemn occasion. They did not indulge in any feasting, singing, or dancing until Hogmanay, the last day of the year. That celebration lasted through the night until the next morning, ending with the traditionalsaining,which offered a protective blessing for the clan and livestock.

Davina had noticed that a substantial pile of juniper branches had been put aside, so she knew the McKennas also held with this custom. Her mind spun at the amount of planning involved and the amount of food and drink that must be prepared to ensure there was enough for all to partake for these many days of feasts.

As if she had conjured it by merely thinking about it, platters piled high with roasted venison, goose, several kinds of fish, onions, peas, beans, and more mince pies were brought from the kitchen, along with jugs of spiced and sweetened wine, ale, and whiskey.

Though it had not been long since breaking the morning fast, the assembled group ate with gusto. Following the feasting, the musicians started to play and the dancing began.

“They are a lively group, milady,” Colleen commented as she sat beside her mistress. “They work hard, yet I’ve never known a clan that takes to a celebration so fondly.”

“’Tis impossible not to feel their joy of life,” Davina agreed, glad that she had been able to experience it for herself.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with streaks of gray at his temples approached and executed a clumsy bow. “Would ye do me the great honor of dancing with me?”

For an instant Davina was startled by the request until she realized the man was speaking to her companion. She turned just in time to see the widow blush. Colleen hesitated, but only for a moment. Then she stood and took hold of the man’s hand, her blush deepening as he led her away.

Still trying to digest what had just happened, Davina jumped when Malcolm approached her from the side. “Shall we join in?” he asked with a gallant bow.

But before she could take his offered hand, James appeared. “I was the victor in our match on the practice field. Davina is promised to me.”

Malcolm’s mouth tightened into an even line of disagreement. “The match was a draw.”

“I won,” James insisted.

---