Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Marian stirred in bed.
Her body shivered as the cold Highland wind burst in through the window. She groaned, reaching across the bed for more blankets. She pulled them tighter around herself as another gust rushed in, banging the wood against the stone walls.
A small breath escaped her lips, somewhere between a sigh and a huff. She’d been certain she’d closed the window before going to sleep, but now it was wide open.
Heavens help me this morning.
She blinked her eyes open and slid out of the bed, wrapping one of the blankets around her shoulders like a cloak as she walked to the open window.
The violent breeze fought against her, whipping her hair in every possible direction and sending chills down her spine. Lightning struck overhead.
As she shut the window, she let out a sigh of relief.
It is going to be a heavy downpour.
She turned back toward the bed, her feet padding softly across the floor.
Suddenly, the doors to her chamber opened, and chambermaids walked in without bothering to knock.
“Good mornin’, me Lady,” the older one greeted quickly, dipping into a brief curtsy.
Marian’s eyebrows drew together slightly. It was her fourth day in the castle, and she’d already seen most of the servants. But the two chambermaids looked completely unfamiliar.
Perhaps they are new.
She blinked. “Good morning. I do not think I called for…” she trailed off as they walked to the bed, stripping off the blankets as though they couldn’t hear her speak.
The younger maid walked past her to the chest by the wall and pulled out the spare wool coverlet that Mrs. Campbell had provided upon her arrival.
“What is going on?” Marian stepped forward, her face stern. “I demand an explanation.”
“I beg yer pardon, me Lady,” the maid said, keeping her eyes down even though her voice was devoid of emotion. “We have strict instructions to collect the extra beddin’.”
“Extra?” Marian arched an eyebrow, pointing at the blankets on the bed. “Those blankets are all in use.”
The maid nodded. “Aye,” she uttered simply as she started to fold them up. “But they’re needed elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere?” Marian scoffed. She drew a deep breath, then stepped closer to the maids. “You must have the wrong instructions. Perhaps you’d want to ask Mrs. Campbell. Surely, there are other blankets in this large castle.”
“I’m… sorry, me Lady,” the younger chambermaid said, her voice shaking slightly. “’Tis the Laird’s order.”
Marian stilled.
Surely, I have misheard.
The door opened just as she opened her mouth to speak again, and Lilly stepped in, holding a small pile of wood in her hands. She froze mid-step, her eyes widening as she took in the scene before her.
“My Lady?” Her voice was uncertain as she stepped forward, shifting the pieces of wood in her arms. “What is going on?”
Marian exhaled sharply. Her gaze darted from the young chambermaid to her older partner, and she nodded, more to herself than to anyone. “They’re here to take my blankets.”
Lilly’s brow furrowed in confusion. She set the firewood down by the hearth and straightened, dusting her hands on a rag.
“There must be a mistake,” she protested, her tone more confident now as she addressed the younger chambermaid. “Her Ladyship needs those blankets. The hearth barely keeps the room warm through the night.”
“The Laird said that English ladies preferred the cold,” the chambermaid replied.
Lilly gasped in disbelief.
A small smile touched Marian's lips, but it did not quite reach her eyes.
Of course, he did.
“What!” Lilly’s voice rose slightly. “The Laird cannot possibly say that. It makes no sense—”
“Lilly.” Marian stepped forward, touching her shoulder lightly and shaking her head.
Lilly paused, swallowing her words. She exhaled sharply, folding her arms as she stood beside her mistress, her face reddening as she watched the chambermaids fold away the remaining blankets.
Soon, they were done.
The older chambermaid stood facing Marian, her mouth opening as though she had something to say.
“Well…” Marian gave her a tight smile. “Do you need anything else?”
The chambermaid raised her eyes, glancing at the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
This is unbelievable.
“You cannot be serious!” Lilly hissed before Marian could open her mouth. She stepped in front of Marian, her chest heaving in anger.
The younger chambermaid cleared her throat. “Very well, then,” she said, nudging her partner. “We’ll leave ye with that, me Lady.”
They picked up the folded blankets and turned toward the door, dipping into curtsies before leaving.
Marian stood frozen, and Lilly turned to look at her, her hands clenched at her sides.
“My Lady,” she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. “Why would the Laird do such a thing?”
Marian’s jaw tightened. “I believe the Laird has just made his intentions clear.”
“Is everythin’ as I asked?”
Lachlan straightened as he stepped into the breakfast hall, his gaze flicking over the arrangement on the table before landing on Mrs. Campbell.
“Aye, me Laird,” she replied quietly, setting down the final tray with a sigh.
She wiped her hands on her apron out of habit, lingering at the side of the table as he took his seat.
“Me Laird… Do ye need anythin’ else?” she asked. “I can get Mrs. MacBride to prepare another—”
Lachlan raised his hand, cutting her off. “I daenae need anythin’ else,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “Ye’re dismissed, Mrs. Campbell.”
He leaned back in his chair, dragging his spoon through the bowl of oat porridge in front of him. Then he folded his arms across his chest, waiting for Marian to arrive.
His gaze shifted to the empty seat at the other end of the table, and his brow furrowed slightly.
She should be here by now.
Lachlan had no business waiting for her. He rarely had breakfast, but he chose to do so for a specific reason.
His ears perked up at the sound of her already familiar footsteps, and he straightened, digging his spoon into his bowl of porridge.
A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he pictured the frustration on her face, but he did not look up at once, not until she was seated at the other end of the table.
“Good morning, my Laird,” Marian greeted with a gentle smile, and he felt that unwelcome flutter in his chest. “It is lovely weather we have today.”
Did Mrs. Campbell nae carry out me order?
His gaze traveled from her smile to her steady hands, and his jaw tightened despite himself.
Nay sign of cold.
“Aye,” he replied, careful not to let his disappointment seep into his voice. “Shall we have breakfast?”
Marian looked at the bowl of porridge before her, unfolding her napkin. “Very well.” She picked up her spoon without hesitation. “Thank you, my Laird. It is rather gracious of you to have arranged this.”
Lachlan’s brow furrowed slightly.
Oh, Mairi. We’ll see how ye take it.
The thought should have satisfied him, but it did not.
He watched as she tested the cold porridge. Her spoon stood upright in the middle of the bowl, held up by its thickness.
Perhaps I shouldnae have gone this far.
He watched her face closely for a reaction. He caught a flicker of emotion in her eyes, but only for a second before she replaced it with another saccharine smile.
His jaw tightened as he looked away, then he quickly lifted a spoonful of hot porridge to his lips.
It burned him.
Damn me.
He set down the spoon slowly despite his burning lips and glanced at Marian again.
Still smilin’. This English lass…
He set aside his porridge and reached for a glass of water, just as Mrs. Campbell reappeared with a kettle and a cup.
“I didnae call for tea,” he said absentmindedly.
But she walked toward Marian instead, setting down the porcelain carefully in front of her.
“Aye, me Laird,” she agreed as she poured the steaming liquid into the cup. “’Tis for the Lady. She always has tea with breakfast.”
Marian met his gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly in what looked like a taunt. “Thank you, Mrs. Campbell. You are most kind.”
“Ah, think nothin’ of it, me Lady.” Mrs. Campbell laughed softly before turning to leave the room.
“Mrs. Campbell,” Marian called after her. “Perhaps you can fetch some more tea… for the Laird.” She turned to face him. “He’ll find it’s delightfully hot.”
Aye. She kens what she’s doin’.
“I highly doubt that, me Lady.” Mrs. Campbell laughed again. “The Laird doesnae enjoy tea.”
“Nay.” Lachlan cleared his throat. “I would like some tea,” he countered, the words leaving him before he could stop them.
Marian smirked, lifting her cup to her red lips. Her eyes peered at him over the rim, and his mind immediately conjured images of their kiss at the well.
Lachlan’s fists clenched under the table. He sat there, unmoving, as he watched her finish drinking her tea.
Marian rose from the table just as his tea arrived. “Enjoy your tea, my Laird,” she said, bobbing the slightest curtsy imaginable before walking out of the room.
Lachlan stared at the empty doorway long after she’d gone, forgetting all about the teacup in front of him.
He’d meant to unsettle her and drive her away. Instead, he sat alone in his hall, outsmarted by a woman half his size, nursing his burned lips and bruised pride.
And wanting her more than ever.