He cleared his throat loudly.
The maid came to an abrupt standstill, her eyes flying wide. “Your Grace… I didn’t see you there.”
He noticed that she took a step back, her throat working as she swallowed. He had scared her, even though that was not his intention.
“What’s your name?” he asked in what he hoped was a less threatening voice.
“Katherine Miller,” she replied quietly, her chin dropping to her chest.
He gave a small nod. “Well, Katherine, there seems to be a goat in me chambers. As ye’re so fond of the creatures, ye’re to remove it at once.”
Her head snapped up, the quickly smothered curve of a smile tugging at her lips. “I am afraid I can’t do that, Your Grace.” She took a breath, her chin tilted up with sudden confidence. “Her Grace asked for the poor thing to be kept inside until it’s strong enough to join its brothers and sisters. She chose the room, Your Grace.”
“Did she now? And who do ye take orders from?” he growled in reply, no longer concerned about her fear.
He wouldn’t hurt her, he wouldn’t even take a step closer to her, but he wouldn’t let her think she could speak to him as if he were no one of importance, either.
Katherine fidgeted with the edge of her apron, looking around as if one of the paintings or tapestries on the wall might offer an answer or get her out of the situation altogether. “Her Grace...” she replied after a moment, her voice wavering. “As I am her loyal maid. But… I can take the goat to the sunroom instead, if it’s a disruption to you?”
He had to admire the woman’s courage for not buckling under the pressure of his question. Loyalty wasn’t so easy to come by, and Anna clearly had a trusted and faithful companion in Katherine. Still, his admiration did nothing to temper his annoyance, for if the rest of Anna’s staff were as dedicated to their mistress, then his residence there would continue to be very uncomfortable indeed.
This needed to be nipped in the bud. Immediately.
Expelling a frustrated breath, he rolled his eyes. “Forget it. If anyone is going to remove the goat from me room, it will be Her Grace herself.” He stared at the maid, giving her his hardest look. “So, tell me, where is she?”
“I… was just on my way to see her,” Katherine answered, her face draining of color.
“Where?” he demanded to know, quickly losing patience.
The maid flinched, her mouth twisting into a grimace as if the idea of revealing that information physically hurt her. Yet, what choice did she have? He would find Anna, one way or another;he just hoped that this maid was clever enough to understand it would be better if she simply told him.
Shoulders slumping, Katherine muttered, “She’s in the library.”
“See? That wasn’t so difficult.” Hiding a satisfied smirk of his own, he turned around and walked off down the hallway.
If Anna thought that putting a mischievous animal in his chambers would somehow be enough to make him pack up and go to a dilapidated house by the sea or a crumbling city townhouse, then the evening was about to become very educational for her.
Indeed, if she were already in the library, maybe he’d show her a few history books until she finally understood that a Scot would never accept English rule. Sure, the English might win a few battles, but they would never win the war, especially when it came to sovereignty.
CHAPTER 8
“Anything of merit?” Mr. Miller asked as he searched the bookcases for the rest of Anna’s lengthy research list.
She glanced up from a particularly hefty, thrilling volume about the Roman Empire. “Nothing as of yet, not unless I want to makemoretrouble for myself.” She flashed a mischievous smile. “The Romans partook in an awful lot of murder, and, unfortunately, I do not want the man dead, just out of my way. Now, if I could find a chariot, I could drag him to one of the other properties, but that might draw too much attention on the roads.”
Mr. Miller chuckled. “You have a wicked sense of humor, Your Grace.”
“I have no choice,” Anna sighed. “If I do not make light of it, I shall wallow in despair. Maybe I should consider a different empire for inspiration… although most have a lot of killing. I just want to scare him off. Perhaps I could fabricate some ghosts, but I do not think he is the kind of man who frightens easily.”
“Not ghosts, but moregoats, perhaps?” the butler offered with a grin, as he withdrew a leatherbound book on William the Conqueror.
“We shall have to wait and see about that,” she replied, as a little frisson of nerves bristled through her.
Had Jeremy found the goat yet? Had the sweet creature created enough mess yet? Maybe it had chewed up those tartan trousers of Jeremy’s, so she wouldn’t have to see the outline of his muscular thighs anymore. It would probably be for the best if the goat chewed upallof Jeremy’s clothes, in fact, since it seemed he didn’t know how to dress appropriately.
“Do you think it’s a good sign or a bad sign that we haven’t heard anything about it yet?” Mr. Miller said, carrying over the next stack of books.
“It is difficult to say.” Anna paused. “He has been occupied most of the day, so it stands to reason that he has not discovered the?—”
