“For my daughter’s actions this afternoon. T’was inexcuseable.”
“Oh. Weel, t’was but a wee squabble, m’lord. Dinnae fash yourself.”
“Ye are too generous.”
It took her a few more minutes to convince him that she was neither hurt nor deeply offended. As she finally made her way to her chambers, she shook her head. Lord Dunmore clearly wished the alliance to remain firm as much as Parlan did. Even his plainly cherished daughter took second place to it.
Upon entering her chambers, she found no maid nor had the fire been tended to. It did not really surprise her for such small discourtesies had become common.Dunmore might be the laird, she mused as she lit a candle,but he doesnae rule as completely as he might think he does. She was certain that he would not approve of the lack of courtesy but she was not going to tell him. Aimil felt sure that such tale-bearing would, in the end, only add to her problems.
She was tending to the fire when Parlan strode in. Glancing briefly at him, she continued to work but cursed to herself. She had hoped to be done before he came. The look upon his face as he strode toward her to take over the chore of the fire told her that he was as furious as she had expected him to be. It was going to take a lot to calm him down.
“Where are the cursed maids? Ye shouldnae be doing this work. Did ye dismiss them?”
“Aye.” She had answered too quickly and she knew it so was not surprised when he turned to eye her suspiciously.
“They were never here, were they?”
Sighing, she shook her head, seeing no point in lying to him. The laxity and often the absence of any assistance to her was something she had been expecting him to notice. She was surprised, in fact, that it had taken him so long.
“I will speak to Lord Dunmore in the morning.”
“I wish ye wouldnae, Parlan.” She shed her robe and climbed into bed, watching as he washed up.
“They break the rules of common courtesy, loving. I cannae believe Dunmore would order it so.”
“Oh, nay, I dinnae think he has aught to do with it. I doubt he even kens what games are played.”
“And the ones who play them should be punished,” he said flatly as he finished undressing. “If only because they could be making a lot of trouble for their laird. ’Tis also that they shirk the work given them and that shouldnae be tolerated.”
“Nay, it shouldnae.” When he slid into bed beside her, she quickly cuddled up to him when he reached for her. “Cannae ye ignore it?”
“Why, lass? Ye cannae like coming into an unreadied bedchamber. Aye, ye can do for yourself but ye shouldnae have to. Dunmore has more than enough lasses to see to your needs. Aye, and since ye are with child, they should tend ye even more vigilantly.”
“Ye are right in all ye say but, I beg ye, Parlan, leave it be. They must think they have good reason for what they do.”
“There is no reason, no pardon, for treating a guest of their laird so discourteously.”
“Nay, ’tis true enough.” She sighed, wondering how she could explain her feelings to him. “But some of the women might resent me for I keep ye from seeking them out this visit.”
“Ye kept me from seeking them out the last time, too,” he murmured.
That delighted her, but she pushed on with her explanation. “So, Parlan, there could weel be jealousy at work here. T’will work itself out in time like the festering splinter it can be. As ye said, no promises were made so they will soon cease to pout and turn their interests elsewhere.”Or so I hope, she added silently.
“Then there is the fact that I am a Lowlander.” She placed a finger over his lips to silence him when he began to protest. “Nay, dinnae say it. I ken that many a man can be fair but the ill feeling is there. There is no ignoring it. No doubt there has been a Dunmore man or twa who has died at the hands of a Lowlander and the circumstances wouldnae matter much to one who had lost a loved one.
“What I am trying to say is that ’tis best that ye leave it be, that ye let me sort it out upon my own. Bearing tales to the laird will do little else but harden what ill feeling there is. I must push it aside without aid, prove myself if ye will.”
“Ye are my wife, the mistress of Dubhglenn. That should be enough to settle this matter, to end all troubles.”
“Not when it may be the verra reason the troubles began. Parlan, abide with me in this. I must settle it myself, win or lose upon my own merit, or, for however long I abide in this land, I willnae be welcome.”
“For now I will let ye have your way.” He held her close and nuzzled her neck, flicking his tongue over the soft skin at the base of her throat. “And what do ye mean by ‘however long I abide in this land?’”
“Weel, I didnae want to speak too firmly of the uncertain future.”
“Where ye will abide isnae uncertain. ’Tis with me—forever.”
As she succumbed to the passion of his kiss, she decided not to quibble since it was what she hoped for anyway.
