Let them eat cake for breakfast | morning, 26th Dec- Xmas 1677

[Douglas FitzJames]

The previous morning Alyth House had been still, and Douglas had breakfasted alone, knowing that he was the only member of the family in the house. He was still currently the only person at the breakfast table, but it was set for many more. This was not the stillness of an empty house, but the pregnant that occurred whilst most of those present were still asleep; the calm before the storm.

 

At least the girls were here. He'd had a devil of a time with the roads from Aberdeen and he'd feared worse from Inverness. But they'd made it and none the worse for wear if a bit crabby; there had been exuberant welcomes and greetings when they'd all made it back to the house together. Loud, strident and opinionated as they were, he loved his family. He fit in well.

 

He had, much to cook's disgust, remembered the lump of Christmas cake in the pantry and, at his insistence, a slice sat on a dainty side plate next to his healthy helping of kippers, black pudding and rye bread. It was simple fare but food that he relished, although now there was good butter on the bread and the kippers were gently poached in fresh milk instead of boiled in hard water. It was the little touches that he appreciated, although the fact that he was alternating mouthfuls of the savoury breakfast and sweet cake would likely make cook pull her hair out.

 

He wondered whether any of the girls would be up soon. Hopefully Cat might - breakfast was about the only time they were guaranteed to cross paths - but it had been a ball the night before so maybe not. It would be a fair bet that Fiona would be passed out for a significant time yet, and later hungover.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Years of habit couldn't be broken and so, no matter how late she went to bed, Cat was always an early riser. Thus it was that she joined Douglas just as he was shoveling a large bite of cake into his mouth. "Sweet merciful heavens, Douglas, cake for breakfast? One of these days, your eating habits will catch up to you," she chided as she walked past, ruffleling his hair. Her own breakfast was a few scones, some homemade strawberry jam and a pot of her signature blend of tea.

 

She was wearing a warm dress of sapphire velvet edged with silver thread and lace. Her hair was back in a braid that hung down her back, leaving her face uncovered fully. There was a hint of the circles that had plagued her eyes for months, but they were lighter. She settled in her usual chair, looking up at him. "Any plans today?"

[Douglas FitzJames]

"Breakfast o' champions." Douglas replied as he shoved the fork in his mouth. Seriously, who wouldn't eat cake for breakfast if it was available? Perhaps he was asking for a heart attack at forty, but then he rarely planned beyond next month. Right now he was young and had the Devil's own metabolism. Perhaps his active lifestyle would protect him when he got older, at least whilst he maintained it.

 

Did he have plans? "Dinnae ken." He replied with a shrug. "Church o'coorse, thain I was thinkin' o' takin' the rifles down to the range fer some practice."* If there was one thing Douglas took seriously it was his weapons skills and maintenance. Actually, there were a lot of things Douglas took seriously, though many would have been surprised to hear it.

 

He swigged his tea, which he drank black and unsweetened, the china cup looking incongruous in his large hand. "Hou aboot yersel'?" He asked, looking across the table and gesturing in her direction with his cup. "Er ye giein' tae be at yer shop this season?"** He added.

 

Subtitles

* "Don't know. Church of course, then I was thinking of taking the rifles down to the range for some practice."

** "How about yourself? Are you going to be at your shop this season?"

[Catriona MacGregor]

"Breakfast of men who will be too fat to be champions," Cat replied. Ah, the beauty of being siblings. You could say what you wanted without fear of serious consequences.

 

Church was a given. Not that the MacBain household was particularly pious, but one did have to make an appearance. Religion could be a death sentence. The idea of practicing with rifles sounded interesting, but not practical for now. "Make certain of your set up. If one of the windows gets broken, you have to pay to fix it," she warned. Glass wasn't cheap, and as a Scot, this household was thriftier than many.

 

Sipping her tea, she nodded. "Of course. Just because I trust the manager, doesn't mean I shouldn't keep a close eye on everything. But I shan't be there every day. I am going to go to the hospital tomorrow, though." Douglas knew charity was important to Cat, especially the ones she had been instrumental in organizing. "So, probably on Tuesday, I shall visit the shop."

 

Then it was time to turn the conversation back on Douglas. "Do you have your eye on anyone in particular for your Baroness?"

[Douglas FitzJames]

"Ye shuid hae some thain."* Douglas replied. Same old, same old. Cat told him he was going to get fat, he told her she needed to. He might be the most extreme case but he wasn't the only fast metabolism amongst the MacBains; Cat and Fiona were too slim. A man could be lean but a woman should be pleasingly plump; no man wanted to cuddle a pile of bones.

 

The big man rolled his eyes as Cat warned him about broken windows. "I sayed I was giein' tae the range."** He pointed out, meaning the practice range at the Life Guard's compound. He wouldn't use the rifles around here. But it was the prerogative of siblings not to listen to each other, especially when they had something on their minds.

 

So Cat was going to the shop. "Mak' it Tuesdae efternuin an' I'll cam in fer tea." He suggested. "Haps I'll bring ye a few new patrons."*** He added jokingly; he'd threatened to bring young ladies to the Tea Shoppe before. In that they could help each other; he could find her patrons and she could suss them out for him.

 

His Baroness? Douglas nearly choked on his tea as Cat dropped that little bomb out of nowhere; no doubt that was what had preoccupied her. Did the fact that she was taking a break from Fiona's future mean that she was focusing on his? Heaven forfend.

 

Still, it was perhaps somewhere she could help him. "Beatrice Melville." He said frankly. She was well bred and would come with a good dowry and relations between their families were already close; she'd be a very good match indeed. She also seemed to like him well enough, but it was a tricky situation. "I spokeit wi' Melville an' he received my suit weel, but he tauld me that Balcarres haed alrairdy spoken wi' him. He'd be a fool tae choose me o'er an Earl."+ He pointed out bluntly.

 

Subtitles

* "You should have some then."

** "I said I was going to the range."

*** "Make it Tuesday afternoon and I'll come in for tea. Perhaps I'll bring you a few new patrons."

+ "Beatrice Melville. I spoke with Melville and he received my suit well, but he told me that Balcarres had already spoken with him. He'd be a fool to choose me over an Earl."

[Catriona MacGregor]

Cat rolled her eyes at her brother's attempt to fatten her up. Yes, she had lost weight during her mourning months, but she was getting better. Plus, she always sampled her wares before letting them be eaten by others, so her figure would soon be back to where it once was.

 

She shrugged when he stressed he was going to the Life Guard range. "I thought you were going to set up a range here. That's much better. You're less likely to end up with the girls wanting to take a shot or two that way," she replied, sipping her tea. She wouldn't put it past the younger MacBains.

 

His request to be at the shop in the afternoon was met with a nod. "That works just fine. I can have the books done in the morning. Bring whomever you like. You know they're welcome." And he'd get yet another free meal, as he was known there as the owner's brother.

 

Just because she wasn't focusing on finding Fiona a husband, that didn't mean she was just going to let everyone off scott free. No, now that Douglas was making a name for himself, he needed someone to guide him. And since Cat couldn't always be there, she decided he needed a wife. And Duncan's sister would do nicely. "Balcarres is a good catch, I'm certain that if Beatrice informed her brother that she preferred you, he'd honor her wishes. He has always been a good friend to this family and your connection to me would likely also weight in your favor."

[Douglas FitzJames]

Why would he go to the effort of setting up a firing range in Chelsea when there was a perfectly good one in Whitehall? Plus it paid to be around the compound regularly, and speak to his fellow Life Guards. He would not be forgotten. "The wee 'uns cuid learn tae use a pistol. They're nae wiltin' Sassanach blooms."* He observed, although the idea of Fiona armed with a pistol might give anyone pause.

 

It was agreed, Douglas would meet Cat at the shop on Tuesday afternoon. He'd invite Nicolette along as promised, so she could meet his sister. Then he could sit back and watch the fun.

 

The question of whether Duncan would honour Beatrice's preference - and what that would be - was a tricky one. "I cannae be certain she wuidnae prefer tae be a Coontess, nae matter hou charmin' I am." He observed with a wry, humourless smirk. "Alsae, Melville sayed he thocht that His Majesty micht hae put Balcarres up tae't, an' he doesnae want tae insult him by refusin' the man."** Which was a very genuine concern.

 

There was really only one simple answer. "The best wa' wuid be if Balcarres were tae withdraw his suit."*** Then Douglas would have no competition.

 

Subtitles

* "The little ones could learn to use a pistol. They're not wilting English blooms."

** "I can't be certain she wouldn't prefer to be a Countess, no matter how charming I am. Also, Melville said he thought that His Majesty might have put Balcarres up to it, and he doesn't want to insult him by refusing the man."

*** "The best way would be if Balcarres were to withdraw his suit."

[Catriona MacGregor]

While Cat was a fair shot, the idea of her younger siblings holding a firearm sent a shiver down her spine. One brow rose as she stared at her brother before she said, "I think guns might not be the best idea for them." A mental image of what she had found after their father had killed himself rose up and threatened to make her lose her breakfast. The younger girls hadn't seen it, thankfully, but Cat had not been spared. Likely, it had been James MacBain's last slap at his eldest daughter.

 

Pushing her scone away, she settled in to their discussion of future baronesses. "If the King was insistent on them marrying, they'd already be married," she said with complete conviction. If anyone knew about the King's fun in getting people married, it was Cat. Two Christmases ago, she found herself on the receiving end. She didn't regret her marriage to Adam, but if it hadn't happened, perhaps she would be a happier person. " And if you're thinking about throwing Fiona out as a distraction, I suggest looking elsewhere. Until her scandal is forgotten, he wouldn't even look her way, no matter how beautiful she is."

[Douglas FitzJames]

"Hou d'ye ken?" Douglas asked, raising one eyebrow. "Hae ye speirdit him?"* Had she? You didn't know until you asked. Honestly, Cat was her own worst enemy in the matter. Balcarres wouldn't look, Peregrin was too tainted; she went for Rochester of all people. He was beginning to suspect that Cat's heart really wasn't in it, which left Fiona open to the King's whims.

 

His sister had, of course, read his mind. Douglas was thinking that a Viscountess in her own right should be much more appealing than a Viscount's sister, if presented in the right manner, and might be just what would persuade the man away from his intended bride. "If Balcarres speirdit tae coort Fiona, wuid ye say nae?"** He asked.

 

Subtitles

* "How do you know? Have you asked him?"

** "If Balcarres asked to court Fiona, would you say no?"