Earlier in the day, before snow had begun falling in earnest, Katherine and Margaret had gathered armloads of greenery and festooned the hall with fragrant wreaths and garlands. Since it was long and thick enough to burn for the required twelve days of Christmas, most of the log stuck out into the hall between the trestle tables.

The large end of the Yule log was crammed into the massive fireplace, roaring away cheerfully. The great hall sparkled in the light of dozens of dear beeswax candles. The women had plenty to show for their labors. “After the work we did this day, I’m surprised ye’re not all in as well, Margie,” Katherine said. He didn’t dare stray far from Katherine’s side. Her little terrier nibbled daintily, then licked the drippings from her fingers.Īngus cringed each time the deerhounds by the fire cracked the bones flung to them by the earl’s men-at-arms or fell to snapping and snarling among themselves over some choice tidbit. She picked out a sliver of meat and held it beneath the table for Angus. If Katherine had a single bite of songbird pie, she feared she’d retch. “I’m just a wee bit tired.” She forced down a gulp of her small beer and moved her food around her trencher without eating it. She flashed her teeth, praying no one in her father’s hall would know the difference between this mask she donned and a genuine expression of pleasure. Heaven knew, she’d had enough practice, but her sister-in-law, Margaret, had caught her in an unguarded moment and that would never do. The frozen smile she forced into place felt almost natural. Katherine quickly turned up the corners of her mouth. “Christmastide is no time for such a Friday-face, Kat.” An observation from Nab, fool to the Earl of Glengarry. “However many pretty leaves and sweet-smelling spices ye put on the sorry thing, ’tis still just the head of a deid pig, aye?” Before long, he’s at her father’s threshold himself, witness to the rumbles of discontent in Glengarry, the bright joy of Yuletide at a family hearth, and the hidden needs of his own beloved… The distance between them is too great-and so she flees over the snowy highlands to Glengarry Castle, home of her childhood, to set her husband free.īut William won’t let his wife slip away without a fight. Laird William Douglas is broad-shouldered, gentle-handed, everything a lass could dream.īut after four years of marriage, Katherine still knows little of what goes on in his heart. Many would count Katherine Douglas fortunate indeed.

Once Upon a Plaid by Mia Marlowe