Iliana peered at the sewing in her hands and sighed. Often the activity soothed her. Not tonight. Nothing seemed to be able to settle her tonight. She kept hearing Duncan’s words in her head. Was he right? Did she fear change? It was true that she had been trying to make this place and its people more like Wildwood, but it was because…Well, because it was better to be clean. And better to wear clean clothes…wasn’t it? And surely there was nothing wrong with tasty food?

She glanced at the woman seated in the chair across from her. Seonaid. Angus had announced at dinner that the girl was to stay after the meal so that Iliana could teach her some wifery…or else. She’d spent the past hour trying to teach the girl how to make a simple stitch, but Seonaid seemed to have no concept of what a small stitch was, no matter how many times Iliana showed her. She suspected the girl was being deliberately obtuse.

Her gaze slid to the tattered old plaid her sister-in-law wore and she sighed. Iliana had offered her a bath and a new plaid, but Seonaid had refused, claiming hers would do quite nicely for a while longer. Now Iliana couldn’t help recalling her husband’s words. “Why is a clean plaid unhealthy?”

Seonaid glanced up from her sewing blankly. “What?”

“Duncan said clean plaids are not healthy. Why is that?”

“Why do ye not ask Duncan?”

Iliana’s lips tightened at that. “Because I am asking you.”

Seonaid shrugged and glanced back at the needle in her hand; then, seeming to decide that this was a good way to get out of the fussy task, set it on her lap and turned her attention to Iliana. “’Tis not that they are unhealthy, ’tis just that a dirty plaid can be more healthy. Ye see, while a plaid is muckle warm, ’tis not waterproof. ’Less it’s dirty enough.”

Iliana blinked at that. “Dirty plaids are waterproof?”

“Sometimes. It depends on what they’re dirty with or how dirty they are. Some men grease their plaids soon as they get ’em, to make ’em waterproof.”

“I see.” Iliana nodded her head at that, then just as quickly shook it. “But why would one need a waterproof plaid? Why not simply stay indoors when ’tis raining?”

Seonaid laughed. “That is fine if ye’ve nothing to do, but if ye’ve to watch the sheep, or stand guard, or if yer marching to a war, or on a hunting trip…” She shook her head. “There is not always shelter. Sometimes yer plaid is yer only shelter. We even sleep in them at times.”

A memory of Duncan wrapping himself in his plaid the night she had taken the bed linens from the bed suddenly filled Iliana’s mind.