The chambermaid raised her eyes, glancing at the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
This is unbelievable.
“You cannot be serious!” Lilly hissed before Marian could open her mouth. She stepped in front of Marian, her chest heaving in anger.
The younger chambermaid cleared her throat. “Very well, then,” she said, nudging her partner. “We’ll leave ye with that, me Lady.”
They picked up the folded blankets and turned toward the door, dipping into curtsies before leaving.
Marian stood frozen, and Lilly turned to look at her, her hands clenched at her sides.
“My Lady,” she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. “Why would the Laird do such a thing?”
Marian’s jaw tightened. “I believe the Laird has just made his intentions clear.”
“Is everythin’ as I asked?”
Lachlan straightened as he stepped into the breakfast hall, his gaze flicking over the arrangement on the table before landing on Mrs. Campbell.
“Aye, me Laird,” she replied quietly, setting down the final tray with a sigh.
She wiped her hands on her apron out of habit, lingering at the side of the table as he took his seat.
“Me Laird… Do ye need anythin’ else?” she asked. “I can get Mrs. MacBride to prepare another?—”
Lachlan raised his hand, cutting her off. “I daenae need anythin’ else,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “Ye’re dismissed, Mrs. Campbell.”
He leaned back in his chair, dragging his spoon through the bowl of oat porridge in front of him. Then he folded his arms across his chest, waiting for Marian to arrive.
His gaze shifted to the empty seat at the other end of the table, and his brow furrowed slightly.
She should be here by now.
Lachlan had no business waiting for her. He rarely had breakfast, but he chose to do so for a specific reason.
His ears perked up at the sound of her already familiar footsteps, and he straightened, digging his spoon into his bowl of porridge. A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he pictured the frustration on her face, but he did not look up at once, not until she was seated at the other end of the table.
“Good morning, my Laird,” Marian greeted with a gentle smile, and he felt that unwelcome flutter in his chest. “It is lovely weather we have today.”
Did Mrs. Campbell nae carry out me order?
His gaze traveled from her smile to her steady hands, and his jaw tightened despite himself.
Nay sign of cold.
“Aye,” he replied, careful not to let his disappointment seep into his voice. “Shall we have breakfast?”
Marian looked at the bowl of porridge before her, unfolding her napkin. “Very well.” She picked up her spoon without hesitation. “Thank you, my Laird. It is rather gracious of you to have arranged this.”
Lachlan’s brow furrowed slightly.
Oh, Mairi. We’ll see how ye take it.
The thought should have satisfied him, but it did not.
He watched as she tested the cold porridge. Her spoon stood upright in the middle of the bowl, held up by its thickness.
Perhaps I shouldnae have gone this far.
