Maybe she’d ride today, she thought idly. She was not a good rider, but she could manage. She had to do something with Pepper and Worthing watching her all day. She would tell them she was going to pay a call to someone—she’d think of someone, anyway—then slip out, perhaps ride down to the cove to have a look. It would be a relief to go beyond the castle walls. She needed time to think and reassess, away from everyone.

Margot groped over her head for the little bell that would summon Nell from the antechamber.

An hour or so later, Margot emerged dressed for riding. She wandered down to the great hall, where she knew she would find a sideboard laden with breakfast food. Since the laird lived with his entire extended family—and their families, et cetera and so forth—it was necessary to lay out a feast most mornings. These large breakfasts had vexed her before, particularly when Arran had told her she was expected to be present. Margot had never been one to enjoy early mornings. She had reasoned that while an early breakfast might be prudent for the many Mackenzies who had many things to accomplish in a day, it was hardly the thing for the lady of the house.

What foolishness.

The hall was still crowded, mostly with women and children. A few looked at her as if they expected her to cock up her toes at any moment, but their numbers were dwindling.

The sideboard was filled with food, as she knew it would be, and she perused the selection.

“Madainn mhath, milady.”

She turned her head and saw Lennon Mackenzie, the blacksmith at Balhaire. “Good morning,” she said.

“Good day for a reel, aye?” he asked. His companions snickered.

Margot smiled, too, and turned around to him, surprising him, judging by the way the man swayed back and away from her. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Mackenzie. Did I kick you last night? My apologies! I have not yet learned the fine art of the reel, but I am quite determined.”

He looked uncertainly at his companions. “It’s all in the skip, it is. You master that wee kick, and you’ve learned it.”

“Will you teach me?” she asked, and popped a berry in her mouth, her eyes fixed on him, amused at how many emotions flit across the man’s face. Lennon Mackenzie and his companions looked shocked. They waited, wide-eyed, for his answer.

“Aye, milady,” he said. “Aye, I’ll teach you.”

“That’s a promise,” she said, and patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you.” She turned around and continued her perusal of the sideboard.