“So I heard,” Lachlan said dryly. Then he muttered something in Gaelic that made the maids laugh.
Marian narrowed her eyes at him. “You promised not to speak Gaelic around me,” she scoffed, pained that she could not catch the joke.
“Nay, Mairi,” he replied coolly. “I said when it concerns ye. This concerns oatcakes.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Marian had not expected to ever enjoy breakfast alone.
She released a sigh of relief as she arrived at the hall, glad to find it unoccupied except for Mrs. Campbell and a few maids.
“Good morning, me Lady,” the housekeeper greeted as she walked toward the table. “’Tis a wonderful day today, is it nae?”
Marian nodded, smiling softly. “It certainly is.” She hesitated for a moment before asking the question on her mind. “Is the Laird coming down for breakfast today?”
The maids finished setting the table and left her alone with Mrs. Campbell.
“The Laird often prefers to have a late breakfast,” Mrs. Campbell answered. “Although…”
Footsteps sounded near the entrance, and they both looked up to see who it was.
“Ah! Here he is.” Mrs. Campbell turned to Lachlan and curtsied. “Good morning, me Laird. Would ye like me to serve yer breakfast at the table?”
Marian lowered herself into her seat. She adjusted her skirts beneath her, smoothing the fabric over her knees out of habit more than necessity. Lachlan’s gaze flicked to her, his eyes narrowing slightly before turning back to Mrs. Campbell.
She lifted her fork and took a bite of her eggs.
Such a frown…
“Nay,” he answered, his jaw hardening as he muttered the rest of his response in a barely audible tongue.
Marian paused her chewing.
Is that… Gaelic?
She could not be certain. Lachlan had spoken Gaelic the previous afternoon in the kitchen, and she had been sure to remind him of their agreement.
Mrs. Campbell nodded, murmuring something in response. But he was not yet finished. He gestured in Marian’s direction,holding her gaze as more unfamiliar words left his lips slowly, though she could not make sense of any of them.
Her eyebrows drew together, her fork pausing mid-air.
It is Gaelic.
She watched them speak, her curiosity growing as Mrs. Campbell nodded quickly.
What did he say?
Lachlan did not look in her direction again. He turned on his heel and left the hall, muttering further under his breath.
Mrs. Campbell turned to her. “Do ye need anythin’ else, me Lady?” she asked.
Marian dropped her cutlery. “No,” she said, hesitating for a moment. “But it seemed as though the Laird was just speaking about me.”
Mrs. Campbell nodded. “Aye. The Laird asked that his breakfast be brought up to his study. He also wants to meet with ye afterward.”
Marian raised an eyebrow. “In his study?” she asked, her confusion deepening. “For what reason?”
Mrs. Campbell shrugged. “I daenae ken,” she said simply, before leaving her alone in the large breakfast hall with a brief, sympathetic smile.
