“O’ course, that is only true fer the men. The women rarely need their plaids to shelter them from the wind and rain. Most oft they’re at home warm and dry.”

Iliana considered that, then said, “But the McInnes men wear clean plaids. Surely—?”

“The McInnes are’na warriors.”

Iliana blinked at that. “They aren’t?”

“Nay. They have muckle money, but few men trained fer battle. They hire Duncan and his men if they have need o’ warriors.”

Iliana accepted that, then asked, “Why do the men hate to bathe?”

“’Tis cold.”

Iliana frowned at the simple explanation. “It may be cold in the loch and out of doors, but ’tis warm inside, and water can be heated for a bath—”

“And then ye’d have to get back into yer dirty plaid,” Seonaid pointed out.

Iliana grimaced, then asked, “Why does yer brother not wish the food spiced? It tastes better.”

“Aye, and makes oat cakes rather bland in comparison.”

When Iliana stared at her blankly, Seonaid sighed. “Duncan has always planned to build an addition onto the keep, and to make the walls extend farther to offer protection to more o’ our people. The only way fer him to gain those ends was to earn and save a lot o’ coin. To do that, he sold every stitch o’ plaid the women weave here, and he and the men hired out fer other people’s wars, or to stand guard over other people’s flocks. ’Tis hard work. It gets cold at night and the men must put up with bugs, foul weather, and naught but oatcakes fer food. ’Tis not so bad when the alternative is a drafty old keep, with bland food. But next to a warm great hall with clean rushes and tasty food the outdoors can seem unbearable.”

“He’s afraid they’ll go soft,” Iliana realized, and Seonaid nodded. “But, now that he has my dowry, he can afford all that. There is no need to hire out the men or—”

“The dowry will be enough to pay for the renovations he wishes, ’tis true. But we must continue to make money somehow to feed our people. No doubt he will still have to hire out the men and sell plaid. Just not as often.” Shrugging, she turned grimly back to her sewing.

Iliana sat back with a sigh, her gaze far off as she considered what she had just learned. After what Seonaid had said, she could well understand her husband’s annoyance with her over the changes she had made, but had no idea what to do about it. She could hardly tell Elgin to stop spicing the food. He would pitch a fit at the suggestion, as would everyone else now that they had sampled the tastier fare. She supposed she could stop insisting that the men must take a bath to gain their plaids.