“The main hall is through there,”Elijah said, gesturing to a set of doors on the right. “The kitchens are below stairs. The family chambers are on the second floor, and—” he paused. “Are ye listenin’, or are ye too busy gawkin’?”
“I’m listenin’,”Piper said, tearing her gaze away from a particularly beautiful tapestry depicting a hunt scene. “And I’m nae gawkin’. I’m… observin’.”
“Hmm.”But she heard the amusement in his voice.
He ledher down a corridor to a heavy wooden door. When he pushed it open, Piper found herself in what was clearly a laird’s study. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and scrolls. A large desk dominated the center of the room, its surface covered with papers and maps. A fire burned in the hearth, warming the space.
“Sit,”Elijah said, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of the desk. “I’ll draft up the contract.”
Piper sat,her hands folded in her lap. She watched as Elijah moved behind the desk, pulling out a piece of parchment and an inkwell. He wrote quickly, efficiently, his brow furrowed in concentration.
It was strange,seeing him like this. For two days, she’d known him only as the man on horseback, the warrior who’d fought for her, the enigma who’d made her vows and promises.
But now,watching him work in his own study, she saw him as something else: a laird, a leader, a man with responsibilities that extended far beyond one lost lass he’d rescued.
“There.”Elijah pushed the parchment across the desk toward her. “Read it carefully. Make sure ye agree to all the terms before ye sign.”
Piper leaned forward,her eyes scanning the neat script. The contract was straightforward:
Miss Piper Armstrongagrees to serve as governess to Masie Quinn and Connor Quinn, children of Laird Elijah Quinn of Clan McMahon. In exchange, she will receive a wage of twenty pounds per month, room and board within Castle McMahon, and the protection of Clan McMahon for as long as she resides within its walls. Miss Armstrong is free to terminate this arrangement at any time, for any reason, with no penalty or restriction.
Twenty pounds per month.That was more than she’d made in three months at the bakery. More than she’d ever imagined earning.
“This is…”Piper looked up at Elijah, unable to hide her shock. “This is too much.”
“It’sthe standard wage for a governess in a laird’s household,” Elijah said. “Actually, it’s slightly less than standard, but I figured ye’d argue if I offered ye more.”
“But I…I’ve never been a governess before. I daenae have experience or references.”
“Ye can read,write, speak French, and do figures. That’s more education than most governesses have.” Elijah leaned back in his chair. “And more importantly, I trust ye.”
“Ye barely ken me.”
“I ken enough.”His green eyes held hers. “Do ye agree to the terms, Piper? Or do ye want to negotiate somethin’?”
She looked back downat the contract. It was real. Solid. Written proof that she wasn’t a slave or a prisoner, but a governess with rights, wages, and freedom.
“I agree,”she whispered.
Elijah pushedthe inkwell and quill toward her. “Then sign.”
Piper pickedup the quill with trembling hands. She’d signed her name before—on receipts at the bakery, on the occasional letter to Alexandra before she’d died. But this felt different. This felt like she was signing her way into a new life.
From a certain slave to a governess.How did this happen?
She dippedthe quill in ink and carefully signed her name at the bottom of the contract:Piper Armstrong.
The momentshe set down the quill, Elijah took the parchment and signed his own name below hers:Elijah Quinn, Laird McMahon.
“There.”He looked up at her, something unreadable in his expression. “Ye’re officially employed, Miss Armstrong. Welcome to Castle McMahon.”
Before Piper could respond,the study door flew open with enough force to make her jump.
A woman sweptinto the room, and Piper’s first thought was that she was beautiful.
The woman was perhapssixty years old, with silver hair elegantly styled and warm brown eyes that immediately fixed on Piper. She wore a fine gown in deep blue and moved with the grace of someone accustomed to authority.
“Elijah!Ye’re back! I heard the commotion in the courtyard and—” the woman stopped abruptly, her gaze darting between Elijah and Piper. Her eyes widened, and then a smile, brilliant and delighted, spread across her face. “Oh! Oh, me dear boy, ye brought home a lass!”
