Skye giggled as she threw back the blanket and hopped off the bed. But then she noticed she was naked. She grabbed the blanket and pulled it up to cover herself. But Arran held it firm.
“Arran… let. It. Go,” she said, giving the blanket a tug with each word.
“Woman, ye are a vision. Ye willnae deny me this!” Arran protested playfully, but he eventually let go of the blanket.
He lay there, stark naked. Her eyes landed on his perfect form and went wide as his manhood grew erect.
“Ye see what ye do to me, lass! I willnae get anything done today if I stay here with ye!” And he too leapt off the bed.
Skye shook her head, wondering if all men thought this way, but he was right. It was not time to lie abed. She had duties. She only needed to find out what they were.
She pulled her old dress out of the trunk and held it to her chest.
Arran splashed some water on his face and washed his hands. Then he dried off with a cloth and dressed quickly. When he turned around, Skye had not moved.
“Do ye want me to send Nellie in to help ye?” he asked.
“Oh! Nay, I daenae. I’ve never had a lady’s maid, and I denae want one now. I was just waitin’ for ye to leave.”
Arran walked over and stood in front of her. “Ye will get over this shyness, Skye.”
He looked down at her hands and saw that she was holding the dress she’d worn when he’d captured her in the marsh outside Braewall.
“That is the only dress ye have?”
“Aye. We escaped Clan MacKeith with only the clothes on our backs.”
Arran pursed his lips in thought. “Go downstairs and break yer fast, then prepare to ride midmorning. We will travel to Aberray.If we are lucky, we can find a dress or two already made to fit ye, and if nae, we will buy the material needed to make ye some new dresses and underclothes.”
Skye nodded.
After he left the room, she washed and dressed, tied her loose curls back, and then rushed downstairs.
There was no one in the Great Hall, so she ventured into the kitchen. Nellie, Astrid, and a few other maids were bustling about.
Nellie smiled when she saw her. “There she is, our Lady MacArthur. Come, come sit here and have some porridge and eggs. Normally, ye would have yer breakfast in the hall, as is befittin’ yer station, but since it is late, ye can eat here. I assume ye didnae sleep much, after all.”
Feminine giggles rang out in the kitchen.
Skye, familiar with Nellie and the maids’ banter, held her head high. “I did sleep well, actually, and aye, I am very hungry!”
The maids burst into more giggles.
“Aye, ye would be hungry then!” Nellie joked.
Skye couldn’t help but laugh, knowing that this good-natured teasing was nothing compared to what some brides and grooms experienced. She was sure the guards were giving Arran the same treatment. But information was what she needed more than jokes now.
“Nellie.” Her tone grew serious. “Do I have duties?”
Regardless of how strange the situation was, and how wonderful last night had been, she realized that she was the wife of a laird now. She had to start acting like one.
Nellie sat back in her chair. “Duties? Och, goodness, I really daenae ken. Clan MacArthur hasnae had a Lady in residence for quite some time. What does yer husband say?”
“He hasnae said anything.” Skye threw her hands up in her frustration, before turning to the cook for help. “Astrid, do ye ken what are me responsibilities here?”
“Nay, me Lady,” Astrid replied, turning away from her pots for a moment with a sympathetic look on her face. “As Nellie said, we havenae had a Lady in quite some time. I usually plan the menus, and Nellie handles the maids.”
Skye looked around the tidy, organized kitchen. She’d not seen a speck of dirt in the keep. Everything had always been so perfectly in order, and she had not ever questioned who was in charge. She hadn’t realized until now how much these women were doing, and how well they were doing it.
