Page 12 of The Eagle

“I do not care for Liam Maclean,” Cora said. “Although attractive, he has the most atrocious ways.”

“I agree,” Finella added. “He made one of the kitchen maids cry this morning.”

Cait didn’t add what he’d said to her.

They withdrew the arrows from the targets, and it was time for another set of archers to compete. It seemed this time it was the best of those who’d already competed. It included Ewan, Stuart, Liam, and another Maclean archer.

Stuart stepped up to the short fence first.

Cait concentrated on watching him. His broad back flexed under the fabric of his tunic as he stretched out the bow.

When he released the arrow, there was a quiet hush.

“No one alive can beat him,” Finella whispered. “Stuart Ross is the best archer in the land.”

The crowd cheered when his arrow hit the target. Cait could not see how accurate his shot was, but she gathered by the applause it was good.

Liam Maclean’s shot was close, but not as good as Stuart’s. And yet the silly women gathered were almost as enthusiastic when he finished.

Ewan and the other archer were next. It seemed the Ross archers were much better, but they still had to shoot one more time.

When Stuart shot again and split his own arrow, the cheers were nearly deafening. Liam’s second arrow was closer to the center of the target. It was a good shot, but not as good as Stuart’s. Cait had to admire that Stuart, rather than allowing the visitor to win, had instead beat him soundly.

Stuart got first place, followed by Liam, third went to Ewan, and last was the other archer.

“I believe Mister Ewan allowed Liam Maclean to beat him,” Cora murmured.

“I do as well,” Cait agreed.

“Time to get to work.” Greer appeared at the doorway, her gaze pinning them before moving to where the archery competition took place. “Mister Stuart did exceptionally well.”

“Aye,” Finella said. “He did.”

“Of course, he did,” Greer replied. “Come along. The women are almost done with the cooking. We need to see about setting the tables.”

The four of them went to the great hall. It was strange for the room to be utterly empty. Usually, there were people about before the midday meal.

Greer scanned the high board as a pair of maids walked in with brooms and began sweeping, not paying them any heed.

Lads rushed in with buckets and a younger one with large rags. “Scrub the tables well,” Greer instructed.

The woman walked about the room inspecting tabletops and chairs. “Lady Ross asked that we ensure the room is prepared for last meal. We’ll do most of the work now and finish once midday meal is done.”

Greer didn’t leave, but instead followed behind them with a happy smile. “I have tasked the lads to roast a pig. It will be served with mashed peas. The women are baking sweet tarts. And I will cook a pudding that will not take long to complete.”

As the woman spoke, Cait and Cora scrubbed the long tables and benches.

Finella worked at the round table where the Ross women sat and the table on the high board.

When Cait finished two tables and began cleaning the third, Finella hurried over and began to clean as well. Together they worked fast and before long the room was spotless, the fresh air from the open doors removing all lingering smells.

“So much better,” Cait announced, standing near the front entrance. “This room stunk like rotted fish. I do not know how anyone could stand to eat in here.”

“I agree,” a deep voice said, and she practically jumped out of her skin.

Stuart Ross had entered. She wanted to glare at the others for not warning her. “Mister Stuart…,” she began not looking to him. Unable to figure out what to say, she hurried to where the other two women were.

He scanned the room as she, Cora, and Finella stood in a line waiting to hear what he had to say.