“Perhaps. I’m still debating whether to or no’.”
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in a nightshirt? Whereisyour nightshirt?”
He arched an eyebrow and grinned wickedly. “I dinna own one. Nor did I think to bring along a robe.”
“Then what are you wearing to…?” She sighed, realizing he wore nothing at all to bed. “What do you wear in the winter? Surely you must get cold.”
His eyebrow was still wickedly arched. “No, lass. My blood runs too hot.”
“Dear heaven,” she muttered.
She noticed he also had not removed his boots, and thought he intended to take them off now as he sank onto her mattress. But he merely checked the pistol sheathed in the lip of his right boot. She noticed he had a knife in the left.
“Get to my suite now and latch that door securely,” he said, obviously taking Montrose’s caution quite seriously. “I want ye to then lean a chair against the door precariously so that it will topple and make a noise if anyone tries to enter.”
“Very well,” Miranda said, taking Gwenys’s hand, and the two of them scooted into his quarters. “Sweet dreams, Solway.”
“And to ye ladies,” he replied, standing like a gorgon watching over her until she closed the door.
The suite was quite grand and the bed large enough to easily accommodate her and Gwenys. She settled on the right side and Gwenys took the left, curling beside her like a little pup. Miranda had taken a fire iron and propped it against the wall beside herpillow. She gave another of the fireside implements to Gwenys to keep beside her, but she doubted her niece would ever use it. The sweet girl did not have the heart to squash a bug. Solway had accused Miranda of being soft, but Gwenys was truly the soft one, with a good and pure heart.
It pained Miranda to think how badly Lady Lowery might have abused Gwenys had she remained in their household.
Well, it did not matter whether Gwenys could wield a fire iron if their lives were in peril. There was no serious peril tonight. Lady Lowery and Lady Trowbridge cut people down with words, not weapons. They took malicious enjoyment in heaping ruin and scandal on innocent souls with their barbed innuendos and accusations.
Miranda was still worked up over encountering that pair, so it came as no surprise when Gwenys fell asleep before she did.
Her niece’s light breaths brought a smile to her face. She chuckled softly when Gwenys shifted so close to her that Miranda was almost shoved off the bed. But this was what happened when a little girl grew up deprived of a loving mother. Gwenys yearned for any sliver of maternal warmth and touch of affection.
“Gwenys,” Miranda whispered, and shook her niece lightly when Gwenys shifted again and this time did push Miranda halfway off the bed. But she did not move a muscle after that, so Miranda decided it was best to leave her sleeping.
There was a sofa in the parlor portion of the suite where she could curl up for the rest of the night. It was for the best, since the musk and male heat scent of Solway on the pillow had her yearning for his touch.
Perhaps this was why she had trouble falling asleep. He made her feel too restless.
She walked to the door, and was debating whether to be so brazen as to wake him, when she suddenly heard a noise in thehall. She thought it might have been a guest retiring late to their own quarters.
Sighing, she decided not to be so brazen. It was not only her reputation to be damaged but Solway’s as well if they were seen.
She was about to return to the sofa when she heard more noises from the guest quarters she and Gwenys had just given over to Solway for the night.
Had Montrose’s earlier warning held merit? Were those two witches plotting something nefarious?
Well, Solway knew how to defend himself. But what if he had fallen asleep?
Fearing the person might harm him, she pushed aside the chair blocking the door and raced into the hall just as a hooded figure ran out of the room that Solway now occupied.
Since the hallway was dimly lit by wall sconces, the hooded figure saw her and purposely shoved an elbow into her ribs to knock her down. Miranda cried out in pain and fell to her knees just as Solway tore out after the culprit.
He saw her clutching her ribs. “Dammit, Miranda! Why did ye come out?”
“What happened? Did you see who it was?”
“No’ a clear look,” he said, kneeling beside her. “But I have my suspicions. Now I’ll never prove it because I’ve stopped to tend to ye instead of catching her.”
“Her?”
“Aye. Ye’ve certainly made an enemy of Lady Trowbridge.”
