He drew in a slow breath. “Let me take ye to yer room, me Lady,” he whispered.
21
Sorcha started the day with part shyness, part regret.
If there was anything she had learned over the last few days, it was this: Avery gave far better advice than Rhea ever did.
She had agreed to actextremelypossessed. Daring in all manner. Bold. Unhinged. A spectacle.
And what had it led to? Rumors that followed her like smoke. Side looks that lingered too long. Worse? Rumors that questioned her sanity.
It was perfect, actually. That was the plan.
But the worst part was that the one person who was meant to be disturbed by it all had seemed anything but. If anything, he had seemed curious.
Because what other word could describe the emotion written so plainly on William’s face? Not anger. Not disdain.
It was a new day, and somehow, he had chosen to torment her by watching her from a distance.
Just pretend he’s nae there,she told herself, drawing in a steadying breath.
Breakfast. She would take two, perhaps three bites, then leave. And she would do so quietly, without any incident. Because falling asleep in a manger…
Saints!
Her face burned at the memory.
That had been beyond embarrassing. Beyond foolish. Beyond anything she wished to remember. It had only happened because of Rhea. Again.
Sorcha’s eyes swept across the Great Hall, landing on the lady in question.
Rhea stood near Caelan, chatting away as though her advice had not put her in the most embarrassing situation possible. Completely unbothered.
As if she had not said,“Ye should wait till midnight.Standstill in the manger like some wandering spirit. Then, when the Laird comes to check the horses, boom! Haunt him.”
Haunt him.
Sorcha had listened. Saints help her, she had listened. And instead of haunting anyone, she hadslept. She had foolishly curled up on the straw like some abandoned child and fell into a sleep deep enough that she hadn’t even felt she was being lifted.
Until Poppy had told her this morning that it had been William.
William MacLean. Carrying her. Into the castle.
Her chest tightened. Heat crept up her neck.
I must have really looked pathetic.
And now, his gaze was tormenting her. It rested heavily on her from across the room.
William stood near the long table, Myles speaking animatedly beside him. But it was painfully clear that he was not listening to a single word. His attention was fixed onher.
Sorcha returned her eyes to her plate. Still, she could feel his gaze. That same awareness that had haunted her since theincident in the courtyard. Since the horse ride. Since his arm wrapped around her waist and his breath fanned her ear.
Unable to bear it, she turned her head away.
Enough. I need to leave.
She pushed back from the table. No goodbyes. No glances. No lingering.
