Eoghanan was right. I had nothing to worry about. Gregor and Isobel were so pleased to have someone willing to work for a quarter of what they would have to pay anybody else, they wouldn’t care even if I didn’t know how to boil water. Which, truthfully, as I stood in the primitive kitchen where things were cooked over open flame without the convenience of a gas stove or oven, I wasn’t altogether sure that I did know how to boil water. At least, I didn’t know which pots to choose or just how to hang or sit it over the flame. But those things I could surely learn.
“Do ye wish for her to stay here with us, Eoghanan? If ye wish it, she’ll be welcome to stay in one of the rooms. We can leave it empty for her use.”
Gregor’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. Even if I wished to stay here, I knew that I could not.
“No. She will need to return to the castle each night in time to dine with the rest of us. I know that willna be ideal since yer patrons often arrive after dark, but mayhap she can help in preparing the meals before she leaves for the evening.”
It made me feel like a small child to sit back while two men discussed the parameters of my job here, the tasks I would be assigned, the expectations that would have to be met. Still, I knew none of this would be possible without the agreement of both men, so I remained silent, pretending to accept their back and forth discussion as normal, acceptable behavior. For everyone else in the room, that is exactly what it seemed.
Once the men fell into a sort of small talk, I could no longer feign anything other than boredom. I smiled as I saw Isobel move across the room, returning my smile with her own as she moved in to rescue me.
“Why doona the two of us leave them be awhile? Escape and visit on our own, aye?”
I nodded and followed her into a room near the dining area. “That would be lovely.”
She sat in a cushioned chair on the side of the room, taking a long moment to cough before speaking. I watched her shoulders shake as her face grew pale. A pain lodged itself deep inside me. I wanted to help her, but I knew even less about healing than I did cooking. As I looked at her thin, sickly frame, I doubted that any seventeenth century medicine could help her anyway.
“Do you need…can I get you some water? Anything that might help?”
She held up her hand to stop me and with a few deep, raspy breaths was able to gain her composure.
“No, I’ll be fine. It shall pass; it always does. But the fits come more often than they once did.” She smiled and sat upright, changing the subject before I had the chance to inquire further about her illness. “I can tell by the way ye speak that ye must come from the same land as the laird’s wife, aye?”
I wasn’t sure where everyone in the village thought Mitsy came from, so as I answered I hoped she wouldn’t question me further. “Uh, yes. Yes, I do.”
“Aye, McMillan men seem to have taken a fancy to lassies of yer own land. Ye all seem to have better teeth than we Scottish lassies. I canna say I blame them for it. I can see why men folk might find it beautiful, although I doona much care for it myself. I believe if Gregor’s teeth were as white as yers, it might frighten me a bit. ’Tis no verra natural. What do ye all do, rub yer teeth down with cloth every day?”
It had never really crossed my mind before; I’d always assumed it was our accent and modern tongues that made us stand out so clearly amongst others from this time, but Isobel’s observation made a great deal of sense. If we stood quietly in a crowd, dressed in the same garments and possessing the same hairstyles, the real telltale sign would be our teeth. Straight and all there, I suppose they did look rather foreign. I was unsure of how to answer her. I decided to go for honesty.
“Uh, well yes, yes we rub them every day but not with cloth, we do it with brushes.” I hoped I didn’t give too much away but I assumed if she thought me from a faraway land anyhow, it wouldn’t be surprising that we would have very different methods of hygiene along with our differences in speech and mannerisms.
Her eyes widened in astonishment and her voice grew pitchy with shock. “Like what ye brush yer hair with? Why, I canna imagine.”
I smiled, feeling an instant sense of kinship between Isobel and myself. No matter how strange she thought my teeth, her genuine curiosity was evident. I appreciated someone who asked questions without hesitation. It showed intelligence and a sense of self-assuredness I’d not picked up on during our initial introduction in front of Gregor and Eoghanan.