"Today's Thursday, m'lady."

He'd blurted out the reminder. She smiled. "Yes, it is," she agreed. "Please excuse me. I want to check on Dumfries," she added when the soldier stayed by her side. She assumed he wanted to know what her plans were. She really needed to find a way to convince Gabriel she didn't need an escort. Both Keith and Calum were driving her daft following her around. She'd had to resort to sneakery in order to go riding this morning, but she knew she wouldn't be able to pull that trick again. They were on to her now. Besides, using deceit to get what she wanted wasn't very honorable.

Johanna removed her carrier from her back and put the pouch with her bow and arrows in the corner by the steps.

"Then you knew it was Thursday all the while?" Keith asked.

"I hadn't thought about it, sir. Is it important?"

He nodded. "You should be wearing the Maclaurin colors today."

"I should. But yesterday…"

"You wore the MacBain plaid, m'lady. I specifically remember."

She could tell the soldier found her error distressing. "It's important I remember, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You wouldn't want to insult either clan, would you?"

"No, of course not. I'll try to remember in future, and I do thank you for pointing out my mistake. I shall go upstairs immediately and change."

"But the day's half done, m'lady. You might as well keep the MacBain plaid on. You could wear the Maclaurin colors tomorrow and the day after. That would right the insult."

"She should wear the MacBain colors every other day, Keith. It's unacceptable for MacBain's wife to wear your colors two days in a row."

Calum made that announcement from the doorway. Johanna started to agree with his suggestion, but Keith's expression changed her mind. Since he looked more irritated than Calum, she decided to agree with him.

Neither soldier was particularly interested in her opinion or agreement however.

"Calum, I believe Keith is correct when he…"

"She will not wear your clan's colors two days in a row."

"She will," Keith countered with a glare. "She wants to get along, Calum. You would do well to follow her example."

"That's a change of heart, isn't it? You said not an hour ago you wished she'd stay where she was put."

"I meant no insult. It would make my task easier if she would let me know where she…"

"Since when is looking after one woman, a tiny one at that, a difficult task? And while I'm thinking about it, since when do you decide where she stays? I believe, since she's a MacBain now, it's my duty to put her where…"

"No one's going to put me anywhere."

The soldiers ignored her protest. They were fully involved in their heated argument. She'd started out with the thought to placate the men. Now she wanted to throttle both of them.

Johanna reminded herself that she had vowed to get along with everyone in the clan, even mule-headed commanders. Since they were ignoring her, she slowly backed away. They didn't notice. She turned then and hurried down the steps and went over to the hearth where Dumfries was resting.

"The Highlanders have peculiar notions about everything, Dumfries," she whispered. She knelt down and patted the dog. "Why would grown men care what their women wore? I can see you don't have any answers. Quit your growling. I'm going to look under your bandages to make certain you're healing properly. I won't hurt you. I promise."

The injury was healing nicely. Dumfries was thumping his tail by the time she'd finished readjusting his bandage and giving him a bit of praise.

Keith and Calum had taken their argument outside. Johanna went upstairs, changed into the Maclaurin plaid, and then returned to the great hall to help with the preparations for dinner. Fortunately Leila and Megan were assigned the duty today. The other women wouldn't listen to her. Janice, a pretty woman with reddish blond hair, was the worst offender. She would turn her back on Johanna in the middle of her request and walk away. Kathleen was another Maclaurin with a negative attitude toward her mistress. Johanna wasn't certain how she was going to change the women's behavior, but she was determined to try.

Leila and Megan were exceptions to the Maclaurins' united rule of ignoring her. They seemed eager to assist her. Their acceptance of her as their mistress made her like them all the more.

"What is it you wish done, m'lady?" Leila asked.

"I would like you to fetch a skirt full of wildflowers for the tables," Johanna said. "Megan, you and I will put linens on the tables and put the trenchers out."

"The hall's looking fit, isn't it?" Megan remarked.

Johanna agreed. It smelled clean, too. The scent of pine mingled with the fresh outdoors aroma of the rushes on the floor. The hall was large enough to hold at least fifty warriors. It was sparsely furnished, though. She was just noticing that fact when two soldiers came down the stairs carrying two tall-backed chairs.

"Where do you think you'll be putting those?" Megan demanded.

"By the hearth," one of the men replied. "We're following our laird's directions."

Megan frowned. She flipped the white linen cloth over the table and bent to smooth the material. "I wonder why…"

Johanna interrupted. She took hold of the other end of the cloth and pulled it down to the opposite end of the long table. "He wants me to sew by the fire," she explained. She let out a sigh then. The soldiers carried the chairs across the room. Dumfries started growling. The men were both young, and both were obviously a little intimidated by the hound's bluster. They altered their directions to make a wider path around the dog.

Johanna was sympathetic to their fear. She considered telling them Dumfries wouldn't hurt them, then changed her mind. The soldiers would be embarrassed if she let them know she was aware of their discomfort. She pretended to be too busy adjusting the cloth to notice.

The chairs were placed at an angle in front of the fireplace. The men bowed to their mistress after she'd thanked them and hurried out of the hall.

The chairs had plump seat and back cushions. One chair, she noticed, was covered with the MacBain plaid; the other, the Maclaurin.

"Good heavens, do you suppose I'll have to alternate chairs the way I do the plaids?"

"I beg your pardon, m'lady?" Megan paused in her task of putting the stack of bread trenchers on the table. "I didn't quite make out what you were saying."

"I was just muttering to myself," Johanna explained. She took half the stack from Megan and went to set the other table.

"Wasn't it thoughtful of our laird to think about your comforts? As busy as he is, he still thought to have chairs carried in for you."

"Yes," Johanna hurriedly agreed, lest Megan think she wasn't appreciative of her husband's consideration. "I believe I'll work on my tapestry tonight. That should please my husband."

"You're a good wife to want to please him."

"Nay, Megan, I'm not a very good wife."

"But of course you are," Megan countered.

Gabriel walked inside in time to hear the Maclaurin woman's remark. He paused at the top step, waiting for his wife to turn around and notice him. She was busy placing trenchers on the table in front of each stool.

"A good wife is a submissive wife."

"Is being submissive a bad thing?" Megan asked.

"It doesn't seem to agree with me," Johanna replied, trying to make light of the painful topic.

"You seem very submissive to me," Megan announced. "I haven't noticed you ever disagreeing with anyone, m'lady, especially your husband."

Johanna nodded. "I have tried to do his bidding because he has proven to be considerate of my feelings. It will please him to have me sit by the fire and work on my sewing, and since I do enjoy the task, I will accommodate him."