“Oh, aye. Well…” He glanced toward the pot he’d been working over, then nodded. “Aye, me lady. I’ll show ye.” Setting down the cloth he’d been holding, he started to lead the way, then paused to glance back at her. “Ebba said the spice man was acomin’ today.”

“Aye.”

“I was a wonderin’ what ye planned to purchase?”

Iliana smiled reassuringly at him. “Actually, I thought to discuss it with you after you showed me where the gardens were, so that I could get these ladies working on it. In fact, I thought you might have a thought or two on what to plant as well.”

“Oh.” The worry disappeared from his face at once, a smile replacing it. “Oh, that’d be fine, me lady. Just fine.” Hurrying now, he turned and ushered them out of the kitchen.

Iliana had thought that if they placed the garden where Lady Muireall had hers, there would be less work involved in renewing it. One look at the spot where the garden used to be told her how wrong she had been. Twenty years was more than enough time for the garden to be reclaimed by nature.

“’Tis a muckle mess.”

“Aye.” Iliana sighed, her gaze moving over the women looking dubiously at the “garden.” “I fear we shall be needing a man or two to help with the heavy work.”

“Aye.” Elgin nodded his balding head.

“I have a brother, me lady. He’s fair braugh.” It was the youngest of the women who spoke, a girl of perhaps fourteen.

Iliana peered at her uncertainly. “Braugh?”

“Strong,” the cook explained from behind her, saying the word under his breath so that none of the women heard.

Touched by his attempt to help her save face, Iliana smiled at him slightly, then nodded. “Is there anyone else who knows of a strong man in need of a few extra coins?”

The oldest of the women stepped forward. “My boy’s sixteen and strong, me lady.”

Nodding again, Iliana glanced at the younger girl. “Go fetch both boys, please.” She waited until the girl hurried off, then turned to the older woman again. “I shall leave you in charge while I see to the spices we need. I wish the garden to be from that tree”—she gestured toward a gnarled old tree on the far side of the garden, then turned to point to another on the other side—“to that one. We shall have to clear the space first and turn the dirt.” She paused to frown as she peered at the would-be garden. “You shall need tools. Some spades.”

“I can fetch those, me lady. The laird will have what we need.”

Iliana glanced at the dark-haired woman now and inclined her head. “Ask Laird Angus then. My husband would be annoyed to be bothered with such a trifling issue.”

The woman nodded and hurried off.