Page 48 of An English Rose for the Highlander
If only for a moment.
23
The warmth of the sun was a pleasant blanket as Rose walked alongside Dominik and Mirren. They had traveled for a short time from the keep to this quaint village, and the fair was bursting with life and revelry. Dominik had described much about the reasons and facets of these unique events, and Rose remained eager to see everything the small village had to offer.
Several stands had been created that filled up the central square of the town, and the three of them had passed several storefronts with their doors pushed wide so that passersby could see into them. Smells of rich meat and seasonal fruits followed them wherever they walked, and even the sugary aroma of treats filtered through the warm spring air, a wafting kiss that made Rose’s mouth water.
Being so near the keep, Rose recognized a handful of faces, families who had sought out care during the castle’s opening of the gates, and those who attended the gathering as well.
She smiled, waving or nodding her head politely, but she was surprised to see that several people remained closed off to her, seeming wary of her presence. Had the rumor of her abduction reached this far?
“They seem hesitant. Are you certain this was a wise notion?” Rose kept her voice quiet as she inquired with Dominik, and he paused, pulling her around to face him.
“Lass,” Dominik narrowed his eyes, his mood still playful, “ye assured me that there would be nae talk of duty. This is close enough for me. Just enjoy yerself.”
Sighing, Rose agreed internally not to fight with her husband, especially not here, and the tempting sights and smells were enough to lure her into a better mood. In fact, they were enough to lure her right to the wooden top of a stand just near her, the exquisite produce so splendidly bright and fragrant. Picking up a tomato, Rose put it to her nose and inhaled deeply.
“Shall we acquire some for tonight’s meal?” Dominik asked from over her shoulder.
“Yes, please,” she replied, smiling at the couple behind the stand. “There is so much wonderful food here. You should be incredibly proud of your talents.”
Their tense smiles gave way to genuine ones, and that same pattern repeated as she excitedly bounced from one stand to the next. There were fruits in season her that she could not get easily in England, and Rose was thrilled to help herself to the brightpink raspberries that exploded with flavor, staining the tips of her fingers in faint red smudges.
“Och, now look here, lass.”
Rose followed the sound of her husband’s voice, casting a glance at a stand that sold a bountiful array of sweets. Cakes, small pastries, and tiny golden crisps—although much thicker—adorned the stand, and Rose was utterly taken aback by the sight. The basic shapes and toppings were familiar, but she had never seen these types of splendid treats before.
Except, of course, the one Dominik stood over now, inhaling deeply to fill his nose with the almond scent.
“Does the Laird have a sweet tooth?” Mirren asked, smiling as Dominik straightened and corrected himself, his ears going pink at the edges.
“Perhaps.” Rose gave him a look, to which Dominik responded by rolling his eyes. “Verra well. Aye. I will admit that these types of special treats have always caught me attention.”
Rose laughed, fondly remembering the look on her husband’s face the first time she’d seen him enjoy one of the Dundee cakes like the one on the stand in front of him. It was a bit of a surprise, however, to see just how excited he got over the array of options the vendor was selling.
“Och, lass. There are clootie dumplings and shortbread. Ahh, I remember getting meself sick on the stuff when I was a lad.”
“Oh, did you now?” Rose giggled, Mirren joining in, and in no time, the Laird was waving the women off, purchasing several of the treats to take back to the castle. And one to enjoy now on their walk.
As they proceeded further into the fair, the sounds around them grew louder, with the whoops and “awws” of those on the less fortunate side of the spectrum. Dominik held his miniature version of a Dundee cake to his mouth, a tiny moan escaping him as he took a bite. Rose chuckled, shaking her head as she watched him.
“And what preciselyisinDundee cake?” She cocked a brow at him. “I will admit that I have not actually tried it since arriving.”
“A true crime against all of Scotland, lass. But I will find it in me to forgive ye. Here.” Dominik smirked and held out the small, round cake toward her. “Ye can see the almonds for yerself, but there is fruit within it as well.”
Rose rolled her eyes, smiling nonetheless, and took the cake, biting into the soft dough and crunchy almonds on top. The nuts had been arranged into circles on the top of the tiny dessert, creating a rather pretty decoration.
Quite bonny, as her husband would say.
The taste of sweet yet subtle fruit drifted over her tongue, backed strongly by the flavor of almonds. It was just as fantastic as Dominik made it look.
“You are quite right, Dominik. This is delicious.” He smiled at her, and they took turns passing the miniature cake back and forth, enjoying the shared dessert as they did the weather. As much as Rose knew there was so much to do at the keep, so much ahead of them, she had to admit that this brief departure from the crushing weight of their lives was splendid.
“And what is this?” Mirren stood a few paces ahead of them, pointing at a group of people gathered around a stretch of open grass at the end of one of the side streets.
The three of them hurried toward the commotion, passing several more stalls that showcased beautiful tartan fabrics, jams and marmalades, and even fresh wool for spinning into thread. In the section of grass at the end, a crowd had gathered around what Rose could only identify as an X, made of two wooden pieces with five tiny poles sticking up from each end as well as the center.
“Quoits,” Dominik answered plainly. “I’m sure ye must have it in England.”
