He seated her at their table on the dais and the servants brought serving platters of mutton stew, pheasant, baked apples and berries covered with a cooked oats and honey topping—Lily’s favorite—along with crusty dark bread. The only reason he’d needed to be stubborn in his insistence was that Gwyneth couldn’t walk much yet, at least not enough to handle the stairway. Brenna had stitched her leg, and she still suffered much pain. He’d needed to carry her down the steps. Gwyneth couldn’t manage any of the rich food, but Brenna brought her a thin broth with carrots and turnips. She ate no more than half a bowl. She leaned back in the chair Logan had insisted she sit in, grateful for the extra support. He had covered her with his plaid, and she’d gratefully wrapped herself in it. At the end of the meal, the table full of Ramsays, along with Rab, of course, all quieted, staring at her. “Aunt Gwyneth, we need to ask you a question,” Lily said. Quade nodded. “The suspense has been too much for us.
What do You think about Highland Sparks (Clan Grant #5)?
