Eveline hastily tied the end of her braid with a leather strip and rose to follow Rorie from the room.
When they entered the hall, the women were clearing away the remnants of the morning meal. Two were sweeping the floors while others pushed away the furs over the windows to allow the light and warmth from the sun inside.
Everything came to an abrupt halt the moment Eveline was spotted. Rorie continued forward and Eveline followed. Rorie said something that the women had no liking for. One scowled openly at Eveline and said, “If she’s wanting to eat, then she should be about when the rest of the keep is.”
Eveline stared back, refusing to be cowed by this unpleasant woman.
Rorie motioned the woman away and then turned back to Eveline. “Come and sit so you can eat.”
Eveline glanced at the tables and then up to the high table on the dais, much like the one back home. Her eyes narrowed, and then she marched forward. She was the chieftain’s wife and she would sit at the high table.
She made sure she sat on the side where she could face the rest of the room. She wanted to be able to see what was being said. Rorie settled across from her, a wide grin on her face.
“I like your spirit. Bold move. But a good idea. Show them early on that they can’t bully you. The women of our clan can be quite headstrong. They’re loyal, mind you, but they’re rather fierce in their opinions. ’Tis often said that Graeme is laird, but the women run the keep.”
Eveline’s eyebrows arched upward. Surely Rorie was jesting.
“Not that Graeme would ever admit such a thing,” Rorie added, still grinning. “But they’re an intimidating lot. Some like me, and some don’t.”
Eveline studied Rorie for a long moment. Here, too, was a lass who was likely underestimated. She had a frail, almost boyish appearance and yet she was impudent and struck Eveline as someone who was extremely quick-witted and intelligent.
Then she glanced over Rorie’s shoulder because she could see the women conversing. One holding a broom was only making a pretense of sweeping as she spoke with one of the women who’d been clearing a table.
It was hard for Eveline to follow, but she caught enough of the words to know she was the topic of conversation. The usual words were thrown about. Daft. Addled. Touched. She winced when she saw “stupid,” “arrogant,” and “Armstrong trash” added to the mix.
Anger tightened her jaw. Her first instinct was to defend herself, which was absurd given the fact that she’d spent the last three years allowing people to think of her what they liked, and she’d done nothing at all to correct their assumptions. Beliefs that she’d purposely fed.
But it hurt more coming from these people. They didn’t know her. They judged her solely on the fact that she was an Armstrong. Her clan was worth ten of them and the women of her keep weren’t as lazy.
The woman who’d sniped at Eveline about eating sooner stalked toward the table and rudely plunked down Eveline’s serving of bread and cheese. She shot Eveline a disgruntled look and then turned and walked away. The woman hadn’t brought anything for Eveline to drink, and Eveline wasn’t going to risk a confrontation over it. She could make do without.
Eveline nibbled at the bread. It was quite good and someone had taken the effort to warm it a bit or perhaps it had been stored close to a heat source in the kitchen. At any rate, it was soft and tasted wonderful.
“Would you like a tour of the keep after you’ve eaten?” Rorie asked.
Eveline pursed her lips in thought, suddenly nervous about taking that direct an approach. It had consumed most of her courage just to come down to the hall to eat.
“Not scared, are you?” Rorie said with that gleam in her eye.
Eveline frowned and curled her lip, letting Rorie know what she thought of her baiting. But it had the effect Rorie obviously wanted because there was no way Eveline would refuse now. She wasn’t going to let a bunch of Montgomerys back her down and force her into hiding.
She was a chieftain’s daughter and now a chieftain’s wife. That counted for something, didn’t it? She may not be a mighty warrior, but one thing she’d learned after observing her mother, was that if anything could fell a warrior, it was a determined woman.
Rorie sent her a satisfied smile and then sat back to wait as Eveline finished eating.
When Eveline was done she sent a pointed glance at Rorie and then rose, taking the initiative and stepping around the table, past Rorie, so she was in the lead and not cowering behind her sister-in-law.
Chin up, she walked down the middle of the hall, boldly meeting the stares of the other women as she passed. At the end, a dark-haired woman stepped into her path, and Eveline had to pull up short to keep from plowing into her.
The woman was pretty enough. Younger perhaps than the other women who’d been working in the hall. Her green eyes would be pretty if they weren’t full of cold malice. She eyed Eveline with open hostility, her nostrils flaring almost as if she were challenging Eveline.
“Armstrong bitch.”
The words were formed on the woman’s lips with such clarity that there was no possibility of Eveline mistaking them. The woman’s daring took Eveline aback and she stared agape.
Rorie pushed in front of Eveline before Eveline could react. She was turned just enough that Eveline could see what she said.
“The only bitch here is you, Kierstan,” Rorie said, her features drawn tight with anger. “Back off or I’ll tell Graeme that you’re maligning his wife.”
Kierstan’s face twisted in disgust, but she turned and walked away, leaving Rorie and Eveline standing there. Rorie turned to Eveline and smiled.