Athol was not very religious, but from what Lyle had said, church seemed to be a very good way to meet young ladies, so the next Sunday he decided to go to the mid-morning service. He found the Mass dreary in the extreme and several times he had to stop himself from yawning, but he could see at least three girls who interested him. It looked as though he interested them too by the way they were sneaking glances at him. Davina was there too and she smiled at him once before directing her attention to the priest again.

At the end of the service, he went outside and looked around. It seemed that all the eligible young ladies he had his eyes on were already attached. The only one left was Davina, who was waiting with her mother for her horse to be brought around.

Lyle thought Davina was very pretty, but he had already committed himself to someone else. Still, if he had not, he would certainly not pass her over. He still went over to greet her.

“Good morning, Mistress Anderson.” He kissed her hand. “How are you?”

Davina wished she could have said something like ‘all the better for seeing you,’ but she did not have a flirtatious bone in her body. “Well, Mr. Shaw,” she replied, smiling. “And you?”

“Always good,” he replied. He greeted her mother, who wished him a ‘good morning,’ then spotted an old friend and immediately went to reacquaint herself with her.

Davina smiled inwardly. She knew a ploy when she saw one, but Lyle was witty, handsome and easy to talk to, so she spent a pleasant ten minutes in his company. She had to admit that after that, Athol Murray’s image lost its shine a bit. What a pity Lyle was betrothed. He kissed her hand again and smiled at her as she left. She watched his shining blond hair as he walked away, wondering who had captured his heart. Whoever she was, she was a lucky lady!

“Well?” her mother asked as soon as they had mounted their horses.

“Well, what?” Davina asked, puzzled.

Una made an inarticulate noise of exasperation. “You know what I mean!” she said crossly. “Did he ask to see you again? Did he want to come and speak to your father?”

“No,” she replied simply. “He asked nothing. Mother—he is betrothed.”

“What a great pity,” Una said grumpily, “his father may not be a laird, but he is still a good catch.”

“You make him sound like a salmon, Mother,” Davina replied, but she was not laughing.

They rode home in silence.

Weeks passed, then months. Christmas came and went, then suddenly it was March and the first signs of spring began to appear. There was still snow on the ground, but it was giving way to rain and the occasional patch of sunshine. Soon, it would be Lent then Easter. Davina forgot about Athol. He had been a momentary fantasy which she had enjoyed but not pinned her hopes on. Lyle had been a much more fascinating prospect, but he was already betrothed and was soon due to marry.

There must be more to life than marriage, she thought glumly. To distract herself, she decided to invite a group of her girlfriends around to stay for a weekend. They would pass the time spinning, sewing, gossiping, and eating. Davina had been unable to stick to her resolution of eating less and the coming weekend would not help at all, but she resolutely put that depressing thought out of her mind and resolved to enjoy herself.

What if she did get fat? It mattered to nobody but herself. She had no husband and she was not betrothed. She was not even courting anyone. They ate good nourishing food like barley soup, trout, salmon, and mutton stew at the table. It was always served with sensible whole vegetables like carrots and onions and accompanied with milk or ale.

Unfortunately, this was followed every time by cranachan, clootie dumpling, tablet, and a whole host of other irresistible sweetmeats. Rich cream was served by the gallon. Egg custard was another favorite, and no exercise at all was taken unless it was to go up and order more food.

Marion, her best friend, was concerned about her. “This is lovely, darling,” she said, putting an arm around Davina’s shoulders. “But you seem sad. Is anything the matter?”

Davina looked up into Marion’s blue eyes. She was a tall, thin girl with long dark brown hair and an arresting, if not exactly pretty, face. She was betrothed to a young laird from Edinburgh and would be marrying him in the near future. The other three girls in the group were also spoken for. Catherine was marrying the son of a baron, while Ailsa and Eileen were walking down the aisle with lairds.

Davina felt completely left out, especially when they talked about their fiancés. There seemed to be no hope for her. She knew that her father and mother would have loved to see her safely married but not one eligible young man seemed to be interested.

“I feel left behind,” she replied, smiling sadly. “All of you will be walking down the aisle soon and I will still be here. No decent man wants me because I am too fat.”

Marion let out a peal of laughter. “I have never in my life heard such rubbish!” she said in tones of deep incredulity. “Where on earth did you get that ridiculous idea from? You’re lovely and your time will come, I promise you.”

Davina sighed. “I wish I had your confidence!” She walked over to the window and looked out to the wild North Sea. “Maybe a handsome pirate will come and take me away to travel the seven seas with him!” She laughed, but it had a hollow ring.

Marion laughed too and hugged her. “That’s better!” She leaned her cheek on Davina’s hair. “But I don’t think I want to know what’s in front of me. I want it all to be a big surprise!” She looked at Davina’s plump face with its pink apple cheeks. She did look like a doll sometimes.

Marion felt her pain, but her time of waiting was over. Her own laird awaited her, and hopefully, her future would be one of happiness. She only hoped her friend’s would be the same.

When she waved goodbye to her friends, a mood of utter gloom settled over Davina. She had always been able to talk to Nanny, but in her absence, she had no confidante. It was even worse since Marion was going to live in the Lowlands and the others were not quite as emotionally close to her as she was. She settled for imagining that Nanny was sitting beside her, advising her on the best way forward.

“Oh, Nanny,” she sighed, “look at me. Not even promised to anyone.”

Nanny’s voice came back to her as clearly as if she had been sitting beside Davina. “The young men roon’ here have nae taste,” Nanny said in tones of deep disgust. “But you arenae helpin’ yer cause either, hen.”

Davina frowned. “Why not?” she asked, puzzled.

“Because ye dinnae believe in yersel’!” Nanny said forcefully. “Ye have jist told me ye are no’ betrothed. What is stoppin’ ye? Ye say it’s because ye’re fat. It’s no’ because o’ that. It’s because YOU think ye’re ugly. Onyway, ye’re no’ fat. Jist a wee bit plump, which is bonny.”

Davina looked at her doubtfully. “Not fat?” She laughed cynically. “Nanny, I ate more than the rest of the girls put together these past few days! When I feel bad I eat. It comforts me, for a while anyway. Then after that, I feel guilty because I have eaten so much.” She frowned and banged her fist on the arm of her chair. “When I marry, this castle will go to my husband. I must be very ugly if no-one wants the estate!”

“Ye’ll be ugly if ye believe ye’re ugly,” Nanny said firmly. “Get oot there an’ act as if the world belangs tae ye, hen. It is as much yours as ony o’ thae empty-heided lassies that go oot flirtin’ at ceilidhs. Lass, ye’re pretty, ye’re clever an’ ye can ride a horse better an’ faster than mony a man oot there! Ye can speak Latin, French an’ Gaelic! Ye have a lot tae offer an’ if none o’ thae stupid young eejits can see it, well, they are a’ blind!”

“So, what should I do?” Davina asked, forgetting that she was talking to empty air.

“Listen tae me carefully, lassie,” Nanny said. Davina could imagine Nanny’s deep, dark brown eyes boring into her own, as they had done before when she wanted to drive home a point firmly. “When ye go tae church on Sunday, wear yer very nicest claes. Then start talkin’ tae yer pals. Make sure ye talk aboot horses or somethin’ the men are interested in an’ a’, then ask ane o’ the men’s opinion aboot it. They love that. Make sure it’s the ane ye want, mind. Efter that tell him how clever he is. They love that even mair! Efter that ye can start talkin’ aboot ither things. Make him laugh. Show him how clever ye are. An’ remember - he is the man. We knaw that we are smarter than they are but he needs tae think he is!”

“You are right, Nanny!” Davina laughed out loud.

“Davina!” Her mother’s voice was stern as she shouted from outside. “Who are you talking to?”

Davina jumped. “Myself!” she called out, laughing.

“Hmm... Come and eat. Dinner is ready,” Una said before Davina heard her retreating footsteps.

When Davina turned back, Nanny had gone.