Page 17 of To Wed a Laird
“Stay,” she said, smiling widely at him. “Please eat with us, my Laird.”
Cormac hesitated for a moment, then nodded once and sat down. He watched as Rose bent over the lump on the plate and sniffed it.
“I am sure this is still alive,” she said, in a voice that was doubtful, even slightly afraid.
Cormac raised a brow as he looked at her. Rose was puzzled; she had never seen this kind of food before. There was obviously nothing like it in England.
“It is most definitely dead,” he said firmly. “This is a sheep’s stomach stuffed with oats, offal, and spices. We call it haggis, and it is our national dish.”
Rose went pale. It sounded absolutely revolting—how could these strange people eat things like this? She shuddered, and Elspeth let out a peal of laughter—this was obviously hilarious to the girl. Cormac raised his eyebrows again in surprise, like it was the first time in ages that he had heard his daughter laugh with such abandon.
He took a sharp knife and plunged it into the haggis, and immediately something meaty and earthy with a warm peppery aroma poured out, causing Rose’s mouth to water. It looked deeply unattractive, but she was determined to try it. She could not be seen as a coward in front of Cormac MacTavish.
Rose put a spoonful into her mouth, half-expecting the earthy mixture to be revolting, but her eyes widened in delighted surprise as she tasted it. “This is delicious,” she remarked. “Really tasty!”
The haggis was served with mashed potatoes and turnips—or neeps, as they were called—which were a perfect complement to the offal pudding.
Rose loved the combination, which practically melted in her mouth, and she almost forgot her manners as she quickly swallowed spoonful after spoonful, to the great amusement of Elspeth, who was giggling as she watched Rose eating.
Cormac was eating his own food calmly, but was surreptitiously watching Rose out of the corner of his eye, since he had always enjoyed the sight of a person enjoying their food. It pleased him to see that Elspeth’s governess, an Englishwoman, was not turning her nose up at the unfamiliar taste of Scottish fare, as he had seen so many others do in the past.
His late wife’s mother and father had taken one look at the haggis, and after hearing what was in it, had refused to eat it without even taking a bite. Cormac had felt ashamed then, as though his country’s food was not good enough, so he wasgratified to see that Rose appreciated it so much, even though she was English.
Rose seemed to like the haggis so much that she had a second helping. Afterwards, she wiped her lips and sat back in her chair, patting her stomach. “I have been too greedy,” she said with a sigh.
Cormac smiled. “I am always happy to see people enjoying their food as much as you do,” he said, taking a sip of ale. “We should all be glad we have it, when so many people do not.”
“Indeed,” Rose agreed.
Cormac’s mind drifted to his wife’s first days in Scotland. She had been curious and bright about life in the Highlands, like Rose…
He jerked himself back to the present as Elspeth put a hand on his. He looked at her inquiringly, at the face that was so like her mother’s except for the blue eyes she had inherited from him. He had no idea how he had ever managed to sire such a beautiful child, and his only regret was that there had not been many more.
“Da,” Elspeth said suddenly. “I would like to learn to speak French.”
Cormac frowned, puzzled. “What gave you that idea?”
“Rose and I were talking about it,” Elspeth replied, glancing at her. “We saw some of the men bringing in crates of wine, and she told me they came from France. Mammy could speak French, too.” Elspeth looked at Rose in open admiration. “I can only speak English and a bit of Gaelic, and you always told me that Scots and French people were very good friends.”
“So that is why you want to learn?” Cormac was surprised, but this was good news.
He looked at her closely, and saw that her eyes were bright and eager, and he realised that it was the first time in ages that he had seen such an animated expression on her face. At thatmoment, she looked just like Catherine, and his heart swelled with love for her.
“Do you not like the idea?” Elspeth asked, looking as if she were prepared for disappointment.
He looked at Rose. “How well do you speak the language?” he asked.
“Très bien, Monsieur,” she answered. “Ma mère m’a appris la langue.”
Cormac looked blank, and felt a little stupid. “Pardon?” he asked.
“My mother taught me the language,” Rose said. “My grandmother was French.”
Cormac looked at Elspeth with narrowed eyes, then he smiled. “Then yes, you may learn French,” he told her. “But only after your main lessons. You can start tomorrow.”
He glanced at Rose, who was smiling with quiet joy, almost as though he had given her a gift. He smiled back at her, then he looked away quickly, unwilling to be trapped by her deep, dark eyes again, but for the first time in a long while, he felt warm inside.
Cormac suddenly looked sad again, and Rose wondered what was in his mind. His sudden mood swing was so like his daughter’s, they were more alike than they thought. It was not her place to ask, however.
