Logan smiled and faced Faith. She took another bite of a biscuit, delighted to discover the relaxed rapport Logan shared with his staff. For some reason, she had always assumed that he would be an arrogant master, but he seemed to be on a more familiar level with his staff.
Seemingly aware that he had surprised her, he tilted his head.
“What is it?”
“I always assumed that you would be an overbearing employer,” she said, dipping her chin. “Someone who barked orders or even belittled those who worked for you.”
“Why is that?”
“From all our interactions, I suppose.”
Faith knew he knew what she meant, so he exhaled slowly.
“We did manage to make some pretty severe impressions on one another, didn’t we?”
“Yes.”
“It seems rather a ridiculous thing to occur now, looking back.”
“Well, it wasn’t me who started it,” Faith started, lifting her chin. “You were rather rude from the time we first met at the MacTavish house.”
The crease between Logan’s brow deepened.
“If I was, it was only in response to you.”
She frowned back at him.
“How so?”
“It was evident you didn’t want to be there. When Graham told the story of Tam Lin to you and your sisters, you were uninterested. I’m sure you may have even rolled your eyes during his telling.”
“I did not.”
“Oh, you most certainly did.”
“Were you watching me?”
“No,” he said quickly. “But your indifference was evident.”
“If that’s true, it wasn’t because I didn’t appreciate the story. It’s only because I don’t like fairytales.”
“Tam Lin isn’t a fairytale. It’s a folk story. One the people in this area take very seriously.”
“You cannot expect me to believe in fairies.”
“Not at all,” he said, taking the biscuit from the plate. He ate it in one bite, taking a swig of tea before he spoke again. “But ridiculous or not, it means something to the people here.”
“Does it mean something to you?”
He hesitated before answering.
“Not exactly,” he admitted. “To be honest, I’ve never quite liked them myself. But it’s the principle of it.”
Faith gave him a sardonic look.
“Bravely defending your heritage against the English?” she asked in jest, but a shadow fell over his face at the mention of English, and Faith wondered if she had touched upon something. She leaned slightly forward. “Tell me, if I were Scottish, French, or some other nationality, would you have been quite as offended?”
“Yes,” he said quickly. Then, “Well, maybe. I mean, I suppose not.”
