“Ye keep sighin’ like that, Me Lady,” came Chloe’s teasing voice from behind her, “and the glass will shatter itself in sympathy.”
Lydia turned just in time to see the maid grinning at her from beside the hearth where she was polishing a copper pitcher.Chloe’s dark curls were escaping her braid again, and her eyes were too bright for such a dreary morning.
“I’m nae sighin’,” Lydia mumbled, turning back to the window.
“Ye are,” Chloe said cheerfully. “Ye’ve been doin’ it all morn. I counted seven before breakfast.”
Lydia couldn’t help a faint smile. “Ye count me sighs now?”
“Aye. Gives me somethin’ to do, seein’ as our laird’s too busy avoidin’ his wife to cause any real excitement.”
Lydia whipped around, scandalized. “Chloe!”
The maid only shrugged innocently. “I’m nae blind, Me Lady. Half the castle’s talkin’. Ye two have been circlin’ each other like a pair of wolves, and now, he’s keepin’ his distance as if ye bit him.”
Lydia’s cheeks warmed. “I most certainly did nae bite him.”
“Shame,” Chloe said with mock regret. “Would’ve served him right, makin’ a lady’s heart all fluttery then disappearin’ for three days like a coward.”
Lydia crossed her arms and tried not to smile though it was getting increasingly harder. She knew what Chloe was doing—she was only making these comments to make her smile—but it was working. “Ye have a dangerous tongue.”
“Comes in handy,” Chloe said with a wink.
Lydia gave a soft, reluctant laugh. “Och, Chloe… what am I to do with him?”
“Depends what ye want to do with him,” the maid replied slyly.
Lydia turned a shade of pink that could’ve rivaled the dawn. “That’s nae what I meant!”
“Aye, but it’s what ye thought.”
“Chloe!”
“All right, all right,” the girl said, trying to suppress her grin. “Ye want advice, then? About the Laird who’s too broody for his own good?”
Lydia hesitated. “I… daenae ken. I daenae even ken what to think anymore.” She rose from the window seat and began pacing, her skirts whispering across the floorboards. “One moment, he’s kind… almost tender. The next, he’s distant, cold. He orders me about as though I were one of his soldiers then vanishes for days as if he regrets I exist at all.”
Chloe’s expression softened. “He’s protectin’ ye, Me Lady. Ye ken that, aye?”
“I ken that’s what he tells himself,” Lydia said, frustrated. “But there’s a difference between protection and control. I cannae so much as step into the courtyard without Michael trailin’ behind me. I cannae speak to the council without Kieran glowerin’ at every man who looks in me direction.”
Chloe smirked. “Sounds like jealousy to me.”
“Daenae be ridiculous,” Lydia said though her stomach gave a treacherous flutter.
“Och, come now. If he werenae jealous, he’d nae be avoidin’ ye like the plague. Men like him, they only run when they’re afraid they want somethin’ they cannae have.”
Lydia sank into a chair, pressing her palms to her face. “I shouldnae want him, Chloe. I shouldnae even think of him that way.”
“Why? Ye’re his wife.”
Lydia peeked between her fingers, scowling. She supposed Chloe had a good point, but she didn’t want to consider it like that at all. “Ye’re impossible.”
“Aye, that’s what the cook says,” Chloe said brightly. “Usually right before I steal her tarts.”
That earned another laugh from Lydia, one that broke through her heavy mood. She leaned back in the chair and gave Chloe a weary smile. “If I dinnae have ye to talk to, I think I’d go mad.”
“Och, I’ll remind ye of that when ye start throwin’ things at me,” the maid said with a wink. Then, more gently, “Listen, Me Lady, the Laird’s a hard man to read, but I’ve seen how he looks at ye. Aye, he’s stayin’ away now, but that’s nae because he doesnae care. It’s because he does.”
