Page 18 of Some Like It Scot
“And have you enjoyed your visit to Mull so far?” Bea asked, touching up my tea.
“There’s this wild sort of beauty to it, isn’t there? Otherworldly.”
All the ladies, even Maggie, nodded in agreement.
I tipped my head to them. “And the people are pretty nice too.”
“Well, I’ll tell you now that we’re not like some of the movies portray,” Maggie offered. “It’s not always raining here, and our men dinnae wear kilts all the time.”
“But when they do, it’s worth remembering,” Lori added with a little glimmer in her eyes.
My lips twitched.Go, Lori!
“And I havenae heard one person say ‘och aye the noo’ in all my days.” Maggie’s gray eyes grew wider the more she spoke. “And there are a great deal of friendly Scots if one takes the time to learn us. We’re not a crabbit group in the slightest. No matter what the movies say.”
Though her deepening frown conveyed just the opposite.
“Maggie,” Mirren interrupted, her lips tightening as if she fought a smile. “I dinnae think Katie is someone with a poor opinion of us, are you, Katie?”
“Not at all,” I answered, smiling. “My grandpa was a first-generation American Scot, so I have all the respect in the world for my own kin.” I tagged on an attempt at a Scottish accent on the last few words of my sentence and garnered some chuckles. But not from Maggie. “And I’m delighted more than I can say to spend some time here.”
“And what’s brought you to Mull?” This from... Blair, was it?
“I’m a travel writer, and I’m here for the Craighill House’s Edwardian Experience.”
All smiles fell, almost changing the temperature in the room.
“Not fans of Craighill?”
“It’s no that.” Blair adjusted her glasses only to look at me from over the rims. “Craighill is a part of our heritage here in Glenkirk. We love thehouse.”
“And the gardens,” Bea added.
“But it’s Lennox we’re not too keen on.” Maggie mumbled out the phrase before taking a bite of scone. “The Sassenach!”
Lennox? Which must mean Mrs. Lennox? And I’d never heardSassenachsaid in such an unflattering way. Mind you, I’d only heard the word mentioned by Jamie Fraser.
Didn’t it mean English?
Mirren placed a palm on my knee. “It just takes some adjusting when any foreigner comes into your place with their own ideas, as you can imagine.”
“And brings all her workers from England,” Maggie added, before washing down her bite with a sip of tea. “Not one hire from the village. Why?” Her eyes narrowed. “Because she’s too high and mighty, that’s why.”
Not such a great rapport to have for a new business, that’s for sure. If Mrs. Lennox wanted to build her clientele, reputation mattered, especially with locals. My thoughts spun back to attempting to fit into dozens of tiny dresses, and an idea popped to mind. Maybe a little olive branch for both Mrs. Lennox and the ladies of Glenkirk would make this entire experience a little better for everyone. Besides, if I was going to make this assignment shine for Dave, then it couldn’t hurt to put in a good word or two. “Would you happen to know of a good seamstress nearby who can work fast?”
All the ladies’ attention shifted back to me, so I continued, “There’s some trouble with a few pieces of clothing I have back at Craighill.”
“Aye, Janie McTavish is one of the best here in the village.” Mirren stared over at me, her expression making me feel all warm and cozy inside and, at the same time, a little... nervous. What was going on behind those eyes? “She and her husband run The Hairy Coo.”
“Which is an excellent shop for wool wear,” Lori offered.
“She hasn’t a mind for wool wear, Lori.” Maggie gave a shake to her head. “She’s in need of a seamstress.”
“I’ll fetch Janie’s card for ye.” Mirren stood and stepped to the counter, leaving me alone with the knitters.
Which shouldn’t sound as ominous as if felt.
“What does a travel writer do exactly?” This from Bea, her smile soothing over the earlier tension.
