“Would ye like someone to escort ye to yer chambers?”
Her brow furrowed, and she mumbled softly, “First, you want me to stay, and now you want me to go.”
“What was that?” he asked, though he had clearly heard her.
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I can find my way.”
5
Kayden woke up early after a restless night. He could not help but think about the woman on the other side of the door.
What am I going to do with her?
Although he had an agreement with her father, he would not force her to lie with him. It was his wedding night, yet he spent it alone. He had been alone for so long that he felt he should be used to it.
His mind went to his late sister and what she might have thought of this situation. Even before she was taken by the redcoats and killed, she had hated the English.
He wondered if Sorcha would try to get along with his new wife or make her situation even more difficult. He had a feeling it would be the latter.
When the sun began to lighten the sky, he got up and went out to check on the new heifer.
Outside, the morning air was sharp with damp grass and peat smoke. Kayden crossed the lower paddock, where the new heifer stood tethered, her breath steaming as she shifted her weight. He checked her flank and feed, murmuring his approval before moving on, boots cutting a familiar path through the dirt.
Near the stone byre, a crofter straightened from his work and dipped his head. “Morning, Me Laird. She is settled well enough,” he said, gesturing to the cow. Then, after a pause, “Folks are talking.”
Kayden arched an eyebrow. “They always are.”
“Aye,” the man agreed, glancing to the side. “They daenae ken what to make of her yet, but they are excited.”
Kayden gave a noncommittal grunt and continued on.
Closer to the kitchens, an older woman hefting a basket of turnips gave him a curt nod. “Me Laird,” she began. “Are we to expect… changes in the near future, what with the new Lady McGill’s presence?”
“Am I nae a laird who is consistent and fair?” Kayden asked.
The woman met his gaze squarely. “Aye.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Then ye may trust I have chosen a wife with the same qualities.”
“Aye, Me Laird. I trust in ye. Ye have our support.”
Kayden nodded at the woman, holding out a hand to take the basket from her, but she waved him away with a smile. He turned and walked thoughtfully towards the fields.
A younger lad tending to the sheep cleared his throat nervously. “Is it true that Lady McGill is a healer, Me Laird?”
“Aye, laddie.”
The boy nodded earnestly. “Me wee sister is still coughing. If the lady kens something about that, folks might warm up to her quicker.”
Kayden felt the weight of those words settle heavier than the mist. “We will see,” he said.
By the time the sun had fully cleared the hills, his jaw was tight with thought rather than fatigue. Lilliana had barely arrived, and she was already stirring unease among his people.
He turned, looking at the golden light washing over Malgrave Castle.
It looks quite beautiful just now.
He was then assaulted by images of Lilliana’s eyes, her warm body in his hands, and her wild anger.
