Page 31 of An Allusive Love
Kirstine heard Brownie’showl before she saw Brigid. Charlie began a low whine, his tail thumping furiously. “We have visitors, eh?” She opened the door to let him run ahead.
The deerhounds wrestled in the yard as Brigid waved from the lane. Kirstine watched her hike up the light wool skirt and jog the rest of the way.
“I hope I’m no’ interrupting anything.” She followed Kirstine into the house. “I’ve run out of the salve ye gave me for Twiddle. The goat with a gash on his back leg.”
“Let me see if I have some ready or if I need to make more. Would ye like some tea?”
Brigid nodded.
She put the kettle on and inspected the pantry at the back of the kitchen. Pulling down a brown crock, she took off the lid. “Ye can have what’s left, and I’ll send more with Brodie when I finish the next batch.”
“If he’s still talking to me.”
“Because he’s angry with ye or because ye’ve poisoned him?” Kirstine had listened to an entire hour of Brodie’s moaning. She was certain he’d be the next martyr of Scotland.
“He’s told ye of our bargain, then?”
“Aye. If ye last a week without Enid skelping ye or killing off yer family, Brodie will buy the mare ye’ve been hankering for. Sounds like he didna think that one through.” Kirstine’s eyes narrowed as a revelation came to her. “Brigid MacNaughton can do whatever she sets her mind to, but she can’t master a stove after almost a week?”
“Have ye seen Lachlan?” Brigid asked, evading the question. “He’s different, distracted.”
“He may have a lot on his mind.”
“I believe it’s female.” She grinned. “He daydreams, then jerks into consciousness, and turns red as a rooster’s comb. As if he was embarrassed at his own thoughts.”
“I ken how he feels.” Kirstine blushed. “Brodie is in my head night and day.”
“Are ye ready to be betrothed?” Brigid’s tone implied she had a secret.
“When yer brother’s ready. I’ve had a braw summer so far.” The smile on her friend’s face was almost triumphant. “Is there something ye want to tell me?”
Brigid shook her head, scarlet tresses flashing. “I’m just in the mood for acèilidh, that’s all. And I ken sometimes my brother needs a wee push.”
Kirstine sucked in a breath, a rare anger flaring in her chest. “If he needs a push, then I dinna want the proposal. Do ye understand?”
“I didna mean anything by it.” Brigid sighed. “Aye, I promise no’ to interfere anymore.”
“Anymo—”
“Did Brodie tell ye about the venison collops?”
Kirstine shook her head. “I’ve no’ seen him today.”
It seemed there had been some confusion between red wine meant for the gravy and red vinegar Enid had set aside for cleaning. By the time Brigid had discovered the mix-up, the platter of collops had been served. Brigid arrived in the dining room as Calum dipped a medallion of venison into the dark gravy and waved it at her. She tried to warn him, but it had been too late.
The fork hadn’t left her grandfather’s mouth before his eyes almost popped out. Choking and spluttering ensued, followed by cries of concern from her grandmother and mother. When Calum held up his palms to hold off the females and indicate he was fine, Brodie had taken a bite. The chaos began again.
“So a bit of vinegar caused such an uproar?”
“Weel, I also added double of what was needed.”
“Tell me that was an accident.”
Brigid nodded and placed her hand on her heart. “I swear I misread the recipe. I would never have ruinedGrandda’sfavorite meal.”
“At least the hounds are getting some fine scraps.”
“Och, no’ even the beasties would touch it. A terrible waste of good meat,” she admitted cheerfully. “Now, I’m off to doctor a goat.”
