A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) by Kathleen Morgan Read Free Book Online

"It wasn't hard to surmise, Lady."
    "I'll take that as a compliment."
    "It was most certainly meant as such."
    The kitchen was empty, save for a serving girl hurriedly dish ing up what looked to be a mess of boiled potatoes into a large
pottery bowl. When she saw Anne, she curtsied, then returned
to her task.

    "I'll have these out to table in but another few minutes, m'lady,"
the girl said. "Cook had us bring out so many bowls tonight, I
confess I couldn't keep up."
    "Dinna fash yerself, Sally." Anne gave a dismissing wave of
her hand. "No one has yet to starve at Kilchurn because a bowl
of potatoes was last to be served." She turned to Dar. "Now, let's
see to yet meal, shall we?"
    "Tell me what I can do to help, Lady."
    He glanced around the enormous kitchen. At one end stood
a large stone hearth that took up most of that wall. Two swees, or
right-angled iron bars attached to an upright bar set in the base
of the hearth, stood swung out with empty iron pots hanging
from them. At the other end of the room, another hearth bore
the remains of a pig that had roasted on a spit.
    Numerous shelves covered whatever free wall space there was
in the room. They were filled with pewter plates, mugs, bowls,
pots, a wide assortment of cooking utensils, as well as pottery
jars of all sizes. Several staved barrels were tucked beneath the
large work table. Dar guessed them to be filled with salt, flour,
and other essential and frequently used staples.
    It was the kitchen of a prosperous castle, overflowing with
abundance of every kind. Harking back to Dundarave's pitiful
kitchen when last he saw it, Dar couldn't help a small stab of bitterness. Thanks to Scotland's regent, James Stewart, the First Earl
of Moray, and several of the more influential Highland clans-the
Campbells being prime among them-MacNaghtens were on
the brink of starvation, if the active efforts to hunt them down
and slaughter them like animals didn't extirpate them first.
    But now wasn't the time to remember such things, he reminded himself fiercely. Now was the time to win his way into the confidence of Niall Campbell and Kilchurn's folk. Now was
the time to rescue his brother. But later ... later there would be
retribution, and it would be as swift and brutal as what had been
meted out to his clan.

    "Why don't ye take some of those potatoes before Sally delivers them to the others?" Anne suggested as she took a large
wooden tray off the bottom of one shelf, placed it on the table,
then added two pewter plates. "In the meanwhile, I'll carve ye
and Kenneth a portion of the remaining pork on the spit. And
there's some greens and carrots over there in that bowl"-she
gestured with the knife she had picked up-"that ye can also
dish onto yer plates."
    In the next ten minutes, Anne had put together an enormous
spread of food, including bread, two foaming mugs of ale, and
thick slices of custard tart. Finally, she handed him the now
overloaded tray.
    "Why don't ye take this down to yer friend? I'll join ye shortly,
just as soon as I fetch some extra blankets from upstairs. I'd like
to officially welcome Kenneth to Kilchurn as well."
    Dar accepted the tray and nodded. "As ye wish, Lady. I'm
certain he'll appreciate the visit, as well as everything else ye and
Caitlin have already done in taking us in."
    "It's the verra least we could do for any stranger asking our
hospitality."
    As he turned to go, Dar couldn't help but wonder if there
hadn't been an underlying emphasis in the woman's voice on the
issue of hospitality. Perhaps it was but his oft-ignored sense of
guilt-whenever he was forced to use or deceive-giving him a
passing twinge of conscience.
    Unfortunately, guilt and a conscience were treacherous burdens
these days, a luxury for those who falsely imagined themselves
aggrieved as they continued to live in safe, warm, well-appointed
castles surrounded by powerful friends, and not, instead, con stantly in fear for their lives.