A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she called.
A maid stepped inside, neat and young. She had bright golden hair and dark eyes that seemed to shine when she smiled.
Emma watched her as she bobbed a curtsy. “Good morning, me Lady. I’m Lara, and I’ll be seein’ to yer needs.”
“Thank ye, Lara.”
“I’ve drawn ye a bath,” Lara said. “Would ye like to break yer fast in yer chambers?”
“Nay,” Emma replied. “But I’ll take the bath.”
Lara’s smile was quick and steady. “Very well. Yer maither’s already in the dining hall, waiting. I can show ye the way when ye’re ready.”
“I will find it,” Emma said. “Ye can just see to the water, please.”
“Aye, me Lady.”
Lara moved about the room with quiet skill. She set out fresh linens and a simple gown Emma did not remember packing. The girl had an eye for order, and Emma liked that very much.
Did Jack’s former wife like it too? Was Lara also her personal maid when she was alive? Could she trust the young maid to tell her things she needed to know about Jack?
“Will this do?” Lara asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“It will.”
“If ye need a second bucket, knock for me,” Lara said. “I will be waiting outside the door.”
“Thank ye.” Emma smiled.
When the door closed, she unpinned her hair and set each pin in a tidy line on the dressing table. She undressed and stepped into the bath, feeling the heat crawl up her legs. She sank lower, leaned her head against the rim, and let her eyes close for a minute.
She could be in here forever and wouldn’t complain about anything. However, there was a lot to do today.
She washed quickly and without any ceremony. Then, she rose, dried up, and dressed. The gown Lara had chosen fit well and flowed easily. Emma braided her hair, tied the green ribbon, and looked once at her face in the small mirror. She looked steady enough to pass for a calm person.
Out in the corridor, the castle seemed just like MacFinn Castle. The morning bustle and the sound of maids going about their daily chores all reminded her of home. Perhaps it wasn’t that different here, after all.
She caught the smell of peat smoke, porridge, and fresh bread as she walked further down. Soon, she found the dining hall without help.
Her mother was already seated at the far end of the long table with Lady MacLeod. Stella was on Lady MacLeod’s lap, her little mouth open in a soundless talk only babies understood.
The sight loosened something in Emma’s chest. Something she didn’t even think was ever there.
“Good morning, Lady MacLeod,” she greeted.
The older woman’s smile met her halfway. “Please, lass, call me Catriona.”
Emma pressed her lips together. “I doubt I can do that.”
“It was worth a shot,” Catriona laughed.
The sound sat well in the spacious room.
Olivia reached for Emma’s hand and squeezed. “Ye slept?”
“Aye,” Emma said. “Better than I expected.”
