She had no chance to ask him just what he meant by that before the maids closed in around her and spirited her to her new chambers. The corridors were cold and unfamiliar, and she quickly found that she could not trace her way back to freedom in her head.
It began to sink in that she was truly trapped there, and, as the maids fussed over her and changed her into a nightdress and a heavy robe, she did not think to argue. Soon, she was left alone in her room again, and she suddenly found herself wishing for the bustle of maids back to fill her mind.
It was a small room, with a narrow window that overlooked the courtyard below; the sort of thing that would have been used by an archer as a lookout to pick off his enemies without being seen. In the moss that had accumulated around the window, a flower had sprouted, yellowish in the dim light. She brushed her fingers over the delicate petals, taking comfort in something familiar in a place so strange.
A maid returned with a tray of food for her. She had been expecting something simple, given that most of the cooks wouldbe asleep by now, but she was surprised to find a good, fresh stew and warm bread on her plate, along with some watered-down wine. Like the Laird had roused the kitchen for a special occasion.
An occasion like the betrothal of their Laird.
Pushing the thought from her mind, she focused on the wine again. She gulped it down, glad for the sustenance, and suddenly sure that she would need it in the coming days.
But when she cast her eye on the food, a thought crossed her mind.
“Is the Laird eating too?” she asked.
The maid paused in the doorway, not quite daring to look back at her.
“Aye, he’s… he’s taking dinner with some of his men.”
“I’d like to join him.”
The maid fell silent, clearly trying to imagine some diplomatic way to deliver the news.
“The Laird said that you were to stay in yer chambers tonight, m’lady,” she replied at last. “To rest. It’s been a long journey, by all accounts, and I’m sure he wouldnae want you to?—”
“I won’t eat.”
The maid stared at her.
“Ye can take that food back to him and tell him that he’s leaving his future wife without sustenance,” she declared, shrugging as if it made no difference to her either way. “Or I can dine with the Laird tonight. To celebrate.”
She didn’t like putting the young maid in this position, but she had no choice. If there was one thing she knew well, it was navigating a social landscape, and if he had his men gathered, it would be the perfect chance to get a feel for her place here. What people thought of his sudden proposal to her and whether they imagined it folly or otherwise.
“Fine,” the maid conceded. “Come wi’ me.”
The young maid picked up the tray and turned her back on Innes, leaving her to hurry to catch up as she made her way to where the Laird was presumably dining. Her heart thudded in her chest; she was not much one to play at being defiant like this, but then, she had never imagined that she would be in a situation like this one. She had no idea how Lachlan might take her breaking his rules like this already, but he surely would not unleash everything he had in front of his men…
Suddenly, she turned through a doorway and found herself standing in the dining hall. Lachlan sat at the far side of a long wooden table, beneath the glow of a lantern, a cup of ale in his hand, a handsome feast in front of him. Several men, around a dozen, crowded around him, most of them lifting their cups as though they were in the midst of toasting something.
She quickly lifted her lips into a smile, tugging her robe around herself to allow for some modesty.
“Sorry to disturb you, gentlemen,” she greeted them, bowing her head slightly. “But I thought it was only right that I make introductions. Lady Innes Anderson.”
She peered around the room. It was hard to read exactly what they all thought of her, at least in that first instant. She could feel her blood thrumming in her ears, the reminder of how close she was to being tossed out by Lachlan again, locked up in her chambers for goodness only knew how long.
“Well, I, fer one, am glad to meet you, m’lady,” a man chimed in.
He looked to be one of the oldest of the group, hair graying at the temples, and she offered him a warm smile as thanks for his vote of confidence.
“Aye, now we can see why the Laird was so keen to marry you!”
There was a chuckle around the table, the tension broken. She moved into the seat closest to the door, trying to make the most of her newfound presence here.
“I cannae say I imagined that he would bring an Anderson lassie through those doors,” the first man remarked. “But if they’re as well-spoken as you, young lady, I think I might be able to make sense of it.”
One of the men pushed a drink towards her as the maid set down her food next to her, clearly urging her to eat with a pointed glare. But Innes was still paying attention to the men, lowering her head pretending their rush of compliments was more than she could take.
“Well, I wouldnae have imagined that I would have such a warm welcome from you, gentlemen,” she remarked as she lifted the ale to her lips, taking a long sip. After that long journey, cooped up in the carriage with that man, it tasted much like freedom. “But perhaps what I have been told about this place hasnae been fair.”
