Marian finished her breakfast, though she could hardly recall the taste of it afterward. Her thoughts lingered on Lachlan and the curious way he had chosen to relay information about the supposed meeting to her.
Perhaps this is a new part of his ploy to wear me down and drive me back to England.
She rose from her seat after her meal, smoothing her skirt before stepping out into the corridor. She made her way to Lachlan’s study, her footsteps echoing softly across the stone floor.
The door stood ajar ahead of her, and she could already hear his voice in the corridor.
“Are the ledgers ready for inspection?” he asked whoever was in the study with him.
“Aye, me Laird,” a masculine voice responded.
Marian paused once she reached the threshold, debating for a moment whether or not it was necessary to knock on the partially open door.
“I havenae received any reports on the account from—” Lachlan broke off when he raised his head and caught sight of her. His hand froze over one of the books in front of him.
Marian stepped in.
“My Laird.” She curtsied, and he nodded slightly, pointing at the vacant chair opposite him.
“Have a seat next to me man-at-arms,” he said. “Finn.”
Finn cleared his throat and gave a slight nod of his head. “Me Lady.”
She closed the door behind her and then went to take a seat next to him.
She glanced at the two men awkwardly, waiting for an explanation as to why she’d been invited to the meeting. Instead, Lachlan simply resumed speaking. Only this time, his words were no longer in English.
The same unfamiliar tongue.
She drew a deep breath, attempting to mask the irritation that was beginning to grow in her chest as the conversation went on between the two men. Finn nodded along easily, even responding once in Gaelic.
Her fingers drummed lightly against the armrest as she tried to distract herself from the incomprehensible words, although it barely worked.
A faint pressure built behind her temples, and she sighed, finally deciding she’d had enough.
“Excuse me?” she blurted.
Lachlan finally looked at her, his eyebrows rising as though he’d completely forgotten her presence.
“Aye?” His tone was clipped.
Marian forced a polite smile. “I assume there’s a reason you requested my presence, my Laird?”
“Aye,” he said again, looking at her as though the question made no sense. “’Tis for this meetin’.”
Marian swallowed, releasing a breath that almost sounded like a huff. “Then there must be a reason why not a single word has been uttered in English since I set foot in this study.”
Lachlan’s eyebrows drew together in feigned confusion before a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He glanced at Finn, then back at her.
“If ye wish to remain on me land under yer inheritance claim, then ye must be a part of these meetings. They are conducted in me tongue.”
Marian looked away briefly, gathering her patience. “We had an agreement. I am not to interfere in the running of the clan, as I am to remain here as your guest until the dispute is resolved.”
“And ye werenae meant to interfere with me land or me people.”
Marian sighed. “I told you, my Laird, I wasn’t interfering.”
“Aye,” Lachlan said through clenched teeth, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Ye were only observin’.”
