Emma shuddered. There’d been other instances, but that one stuck in her mind the most. She kept her hair cut short now. It barely skimmed her shoulders these days and was braided behind her ears and pinned into a little twist at the nape of her neck.
“I don’t like men who play about with women,” Emma said at last. “Sometimes Laird MacPherson gets this look on his face. A hungry look. I used to see it in McCade all the time, usually just before…”
“He’s nae like those men,” Delphine interrupted gently. “I’ve known him since he was a boy. Men have needs, ye know. Women too.”
Emma pursed her lips. “Well, I dinnae.”
Delphine shrugged. “Laird MacPherson is a good man. Still, I think the sooner he marries and settles down, the better.”
“Well, I’d only been here a few months before I ran into some lassie coming out of his chambers.”
The memory stuck in her mind, irritating her for some reason that didn’t seem to make sense. Emma couldn’t remember the woman in question, only that she was strikingly beautiful and one of the kitchen maids. Emma had gone beet red and scurried back the way she’d come.
Delphine laughed quietly.
“If ye are talking of Margot Timmins, there was notaking advantageinvolved. Margot likes a wee bit of fun, but she doesn’t want to be married. Not for a good long while, at least. I would take a special woman to tempt him, I think.”
“Or a foolish one,” Emma muttered sourly.
Delphine levered herself up out of her seat, wincing in pain. “We’ll have rain later, mark my words. My joints are screaming at me.”
Emma was vaguely aware of feeling irritated, upset that the subject of Laird Thomas MacPherson had been abandoned. She wasn’t entirely sure why she spent so much time thinking about the man and trying to bring him up in conversation. Was she trying to convince everyone else that he was a worthless rake?
Well, even if hewasa womanizing fool, he was certainly a good laird. That wasn’t in doubt.
She glanced up from her inspection of her hands and caught Delphine watching her, her expression strange and unreadable.
“Are ye sure ye are all right, lassie? Ye seem… troubled.”
Emma swallowed back the strange, bubbling feeling in her chest, and forced a smile. “Aye, I’m fine. Tired, I suppose. I think we ought to arrange for someone to visit Edmund. I’m terrified that we’ll go next week and find him dead.”
Delphine considered this, nodding thoughtfully. “Aye, that’s a point, lass. Tell Laird MacPherson about it.”
Emma blinked. “Him? Why should he care?”
“It doesnae matter whether he cares or nae. Let me tell ye something, lassie. For all Laird MacPherson can be childish at times and even a wee bit thoughtless, he’s the sort of man who gets things done. And at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. Getting things done.”
On this closing note, Delphine made her slow, painful way towards her room. Emma absently threw a fistful of herbs into the mortar and began to grind it into a fine powder.
It had been a while since she had gotten free of the McCade. There was another pub nearby, the Sinner, which was probably just the same. Although from what she’d heard, the Sinner was meant to be better.
But she didn’t intend to find out. She liked it here, so it didn’t make sense to offend Laird MacPherson.
If only he’d stay out of her way.
If only theideaof him staying out of her way wasn’t so disappointing.
Emma worked the mortar and pestle harder and harder, trying to force away the strange ache in her chest. When her wrist began to throb, she slowed down.
“Easy on the pestle and mortar,” Delphine called from her room. “I can hear ye grinding away from in here. I don’t want ye cracking another one of those things. I’ve never known a lass to break stone before.”
“Her ears work well enough when she wants them to,” Emma muttered, red-faced.
“I heard that, too!”
3
The tea left a bitter taste in Thomas’s mouth.
