Besides, she could hardly speak of her troubles to Michael when she knew he would tell Kieran everything.
“Good mornin’, Me Lady,” said Chloe. “What are ye doin’ so early out here?”
“I wished to clear me head,” Lydia said. “Do ye care to join me?”
For a moment, Chloe glanced at Michael, as if to ask for permission, but the man only said, “I’ll be right over there,” and pointed to a bench nearby—close enough to watch over her, but far enough to hear nothing of what she and Chloe said.
Lydia was grateful for it. At least Michael could understand the importance of privacy, even if Kieran couldn’t.
At first, she and Chloe worked in amicable silence, pulling weeds out of the soil and tending to the bushes. But it wasn’t long before Chloe, ever perceptive, asked, “Is somethin’ the matter, me lady? Ye have said nary a word.”
Lydia let out a soft sigh, pausing for a moment to look at Chloe. “It’s only that… well, ye see, this isnae what I thought married life would be like.”
Chloe paused her own task, turning to look at Lydia. “What is it like?”
For a moment, Lydia glanced at Michael over her shoulder. He was watching them, of course, but his gaze was also straying, watching for any potential threat. If he could hear them, he gave no indication of it.
“Kieran is avoidin’ me,” Lydia said in the end. “He wasnae even there this morn when I woke.”
“He is a busy man,” Chloe pointed out. “Perhaps there was somethin’ urgent which required his attention.”
“It isnae only that,” said Lydia. She didn’t know how to explain it to anyone; she didn’t know how to describe the feeling that he was keeping his distance from her, whether consciously or not. “I ken it. I ken he’s been avoidin’ me even more so since the attack. He willnae… he willnae be near me; he willnae touch me. He hardly even looks at me now.”
Even the previous night, he had hardly spoken a word to her before going to bed. At the time, Lydia had chalked it up to exhaustion, but now, she wasn’t so sure.
“Have ye spoken to him about this?” Chloe asked, and Lydia couldn’t help but snort.
“Of course, I havenae,” she said. “How could I?”
Would Kieran even listen if she did? Would he tell her what was wrong, or would he simply dismiss her concerns?
I wish I could speak to me sister. She would ken what to tell me.
Iris’ husband never shut her out like this. No matter what he was going through, he always shared his thoughts with her. Kieran was nothing like that, though, and as much as Lydia wished she could speak to him, she doubted he would listen.
And Iris has had enough trouble just because of me. I shouldnae bother her now that she has found peace.
“I still think ye should speak to him,” Chloe insisted. “Our laird is a complex man… he may do as ye say, or he may listen to ye. Ye never ken.”
“Even if I wished to speak to him, I wouldnae ken where to find him,” Lydia said. “He always disappears now, and I only see him in the morn or before goin’ to sleep.”
“Ye should try the paintin’ room,” Chloe suggested with a small shrug. “Ye may very well find him there.”
The paintin’ room? Is that where he spends all his time?
“Ye truly think I should speak to him?”
“Och aye,” said Chloe. “I think he’ll listen.”
And if he doesnae, at least I’ll speak my mind.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Pacing listlessly around the castle didn’t seem to help Lydia one bit, and yet there she was, going from the courtyard to the kitchens and from the kitchens to the library and from the library to the great hall, trying to distract herself with tasks that didn’t seem to be needing any doing.
Ever since she finished up in the gardens with Chloe, she had been avoiding the painting room—a place she hadn’t even known existed until this day as someone had clearly neglected to mention it.
Or perhaps it had been intentional. Perhaps Kieran hadn’t told her about it because that’s where he seemed to spend a lot of his free time, and he didn’t want her to disturb him.
