Chapter 36

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6 Months Later

The first harvest after Alex's lifesaving return to Stormway was the biggest Ellesmure had produced in over a decade. Even my father and brothers had been unsuccessful in coaxing such riches from the ground. Working tirelessly, we put aside a mind-blowing three-year surplus — giving us an amount of food that almost equaled the peacetime reserves. The exhilaration and relief of our success carried us through an exceptionally hard winter. A season that would have decimated Ellesmure a year prior.

Before the seas became impassable from winter storms, men trickled onto my shores throughout the late summer and early autumn. Full regiments camped on the beaches and rested on home territory before packing up their supplies and heading for far distant sands. It was a full day's ride from the coast to the castle, yet many returning Lairds came to pay their respects. All of them mentioned Calum's suggestion that the "Lady Laird of Stormway" would permit them to recoup on Ellesmure beaches.

At first, I rode out with Alex and Angus to meet every ship. When that became too demanding, we erected an outpost and lighthouse on a prominent peninsula. Alex's Mainlander men and Calum's Northerners, plus a smattering of enterprising townsfolk from nearby villages, manned the outpost. Soon it was a hub of trading, migration, and legendary food. Drab and starving returning soldiers wrote songs and penned letters honoring Lucinda, a young woman who enchanted them all with her (if you could believe the rumors) witchy talent for cooking.

The next spring, well-fed and hard-muscled from a year of labor, I busted all the shoulder seams of my dresses. Rather than wait for alterations or a new wardrobe, I playfully donned Bess' birthday present at last. Raiding my brother's closet for shirts and vests, I pulled together a respectable enough outfit — for a woman wearing pants. The soft leather booths and the freedom of my breeches were a revelation.

"You could have spent the money on new clothes, you know," Alex said dryly on the morning of the debut of my new ensemble.

It was a grey, misty March dawn with snapping winds and the threat of rain.

I had spent the last hour extolling the virtues and insight of unencumbered leg movement. My breakfast lay forgotten on my plate and Alex, looking distinctly long-suffering, listened as he chomped on a stack of hotcakes slathered in butter.

"They're so light!" I marveled for the hundredth time. "And it's not a money issue."

Alex scoffed.

"But if it were, I'd have the entire castle outfitted in pants. The sheer savings on fabric costs alone would be worth it."

Alex laughed and shook his head, shoving a large forkful into his mouth.

"That's the other thing," I said, pointing to his face. "All this food has made me fat!" I announced this gleefully, grateful for a full stomach and cellars full of surplus. I rubbed my stomach and remembered my hotcakes at last. Reaching for one, I folded it up and popped it whole into my mouth.

Alex laughed again and refilled my coffee cup. "By all means, keep eating."

"They're dreadfully comfortable," I said through a mouthful. To prove my point, I kicked my legs out in front of me and pumped them as if I were swimming.

"You've mentioned."

"And it was so much easier to get dressed! Besides, my brothers have so many old clothes lying around it would be a pity to let them go to waste."

"Perhaps you'll inspire the next fashion movement."

I snorted into my coffee. "No one seems to notice. I went for a walk around the grounds before you brought breakfast. You know, to see if anyone would say something. Nothing! It made me so cross."

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