Page 29 of An Allusive Love
“I’ve made a deal with Brigid to spend a week in the kitchen.” His sister’s eyes burned a hole in the center of his forehead. “Yer company might ensure both she and Enid survive the ordeal.”
Lissie pressed her lips together and concentrated on smoothing a lock of her umber hair that had fallen over her shoulder. “Enid barely toleratesmein the kitchen. I stay out of her way and dinna cause any extra work for her. What if I teach ye how to sew?”
“I’d rather be trampled by a thousand angry sows.”
Brodie snorted.
“Perhaps that’s how ye could help,” said Glynnis. “Ye can help instruct Brigid in some simple dishes, show her some basic cooking skills, and keep her out of Enid’s way.”
Lissie shook her head. “When I prayed for a distraction after Ian left, this wasna what I had in mind. But I’m happy to help.”
Brigid scowled. “What part of chaining me to a stove translates into a wager? What are the stakes?”
Brodie rubbed his chin then grinned. “If ye stay in the kitchen a week,anddinna kill any of us, I’ll buy ye that sweet little mare ye liked in Dunderave.” As an afterthought he added, “If ye actually learn to cook a meal, I’ll throw in a new saddle and bridle.”
“And if I fail?”
“No more talk of my marriage and ye stay out of my and Kirsty’s business.” He spread his legs and matched her stance, his chin jutting out in a perfect imitation of his sister.
The challenge had been issued. Brodie recognized the competitive gleam and silently cursed. Her stake would be much higher.
“I agree to the first.” She gave him a let’s-see-if-he’s-paying-attention look. “Can we change the second part of my win?” she asked.
“Hmmph!Overly confident, I think.” He couldn’t read her expression but didn’t trust the request. “Depends.”
She shook her head. “Aye or nay.”
“Fine, what would ye like instead of a saddle?” He had a feeling this would cost him dearly.
“If I learn to cook a dish, ye stop lallygagging and ask Kirsty to marry ye.” She sat back down, a smug smile turning up her mouth.
The room was silent. Then Glynnis and Lissie laughed. A soft chuckle at first, then guffaws. The more Brodie scowled, the louder they became with Brigid joining in.
“Ye consider yerself clever, eh?” He glowered at his sister.
“She is clever. She outwitted ye, son. Now accept it like a gentleman.” His mother stifled her giggles and nodded her head. “And ye’ve both made me verra happy.”
“But we’re wagering against each other!” exclaimed Brigid.
“Aye. Regardless of the outcome, my daughter learns something about running a household. And if she’s successful, my son will soon have a wife.” She returned her attention to her needlework with a satisfied sigh. “Shall we start tomorrow?”
*
“I dinna rememberspectators as part of the bargain,” grumbled Brigid with a glare at both brother and grandfather. She leaned against a long plank table, the shelves behind her filled with bowls, jars of spices, and pots. “It’s difficult enough in this hot tomb without extra bodies adding to the heat.”
Bunches of herbs hung from darkened beams in the low ceiling. The aroma of dried sage and yeast tickled Brodie’s nostrils. He sucked in a deep breath. The smells and sounds of this room always stirred fond childhood memories.
Enid growled from her corner of the kitchen. “The inside of a barn full of beasties isna my idea of heaven, either. And since I didna invite ye, I’ll ask ye to keep yer opinion of my domain to yerself.”
“Saints and sinners.” Colin chuckled. “I had to see it with my own eyes. I assumed Brodie was telling me a clanker when he said ye were helping in the kitchen.”
“Where’s Lissie?” asked Brigid, while she and Enid gave each other a wary glance.
Brodie held back the mirth that tickled his throat. The two women sized one another up, like two billy goats encountering each other on a narrow mountain path. Would they butt heads and fall over the cliff or compromise? “Her mother had a minor accident. Can’t use her wrist, so Lissie went to stay with them for a bit.”
The look of panic on his sister’s face sent both men into laughter. Enid straightened the rumpled apron over her ample form and tucked her frizzy ginger curls under her kertch.
“Out! Or I’ll sentence ye both to death by starvation,” exclaimed the cook in a tone that had the men scurrying out. The wooden spoon gripped in her fist stressed her point. “I’m only part of yer sibling wager because yer mother asked me. Now, I have work to do, or no one will be eating this day.”
