As they left, he thought he heard her maid mutter,“That isnae the way to speak to a lady.”But when he turned, he found no one outside the room.
Trust Sorcha to have the most disrespectful maids.
Like mistress, like maid.
7
“Ungrateful man,” Sorcha muttered under her breath as she paced her room, fighting the urge to stamp her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. Her blood was still boiling with anger and humiliation.
Last night, she had awoken to a great crash. At first, she could not pinpoint the direction the sound was coming from, but when it came again and again, sleep left her, and she realized that someone must have broken into the castle.
Listening intently, she noted that the sound was coming from the west wing, where the Laird’s bedchamber was located.
She had worried that the Laird was fighting for his life and wrung her hands. Even if he was a trained warrior, he wasn’t above getting hurt.
She had to help him. How, she did not know, but she could not sit back and do nothing.
Quickly, she rose from bed and tied her robe around her nightdress. She picked up the candleholder with the intent to use it as a weapon, then slowly crept out of her room.
While the man was annoying most times, she did not have the heart to let him get killed or hurt. If by any chance she could help, she would offer him that help, whether he liked it or not.
As she padded down the hallway, her hands shaking with anxiety, she grew aware of another pair of footsteps that did not belong to her. Her heart lurched to her throat as she acknowledged that the intruder’s accomplice might have followed her to prevent her from helping William.
The thought filled her with anger. She was not going to allow anyone die in her castle if she had anything to say about it. She was Lady Dunrath, and anyone who was not invited into her home had no right to trespass. Since the cad was bold enough to approach her, she was going to make sure he received the punishment he deserved.
Adopting an offensive stance, she spun on her heel, holding out the candleholder like a weapon.
“It is me,” she heard Poppy whisper, amusement lacing her voice. “I heard the crash, and I came down to check. Besides, I doubt the candleholder will do real damage.”
“Well, it is better than nothing,” Sorcha countered with false bravado, grateful for the darkness that hid her flushed cheeks.
Her plan was most likely foolish, but it was the only one she had.
“Well, if ye are going to skulk in the night, maybe it is best if ye daenae do it alone. We might stand a better chance against the thieving scoundrel,” Poppy pointed out.
Sorcha wholeheartedly agreed. It was certainly reassuring to have Poppy by her side.
A few more minutes of creeping down the hallways and several scares later, they finally arrived at William’s bedchamber.
Sorcha opened the door, not the least bit surprised to find the room in total disarray. There was evidence of a scuffle, but the sight of William’s injuries had alarmed her. So she hurried to his side to tend to him, only to be rejected right there in front of his guard. To add insult to injury, he had even insisted that his guard guard her room like she was a rebellious child.
Considering the risk she had taken to go to him that night, and how sick she had been with worry, the least he could do was be grateful. Instead, he had decided to flex his ego.
“I will deal with him. He will ken better than to toy with me next time,” she muttered under her breath.
“Well, rest easy,” Poppy interjected in a suspiciously cheery tone. “I have already taken revenge on yer behalf.”
“What did ye do?” Sorcha sputtered, sitting up.
While Poppy was level-headed and had been her moral compass growing up, sometimes she could be petty. Countless times, she had put Sorcha’s bullies in their place, conjuring elaborate punishments that were sure to cause discomfort and anger. The funniest part was possibly the fact that no one suspected her because she often seemed sensible.
Sorcha was quite excited to see her maid’s mischievous side after such a long time.
“What did ye do?” she prodded
“Let us just say that the Laird wouldnae be able to act high and mighty for a while, nae when he has to wear pink shirts to his meetings.”
Sorcha’s mouth fell open in disbelief, before she dissolved into a fit of laughter. “Ye didnae,” she gasped.
