Lizzie looked at her at first mortified, but that was quickly replaced with fast rising anger. Or was it jealousy?
What did she have to be jealous about? Her captor catching the attention of a stranger?
“Ladies,” Malcolm drawled as he approached.
“Hello, Sir,” Rosalie drawled as she held her hand out.
Malcolm dipped and kissed it, and Lizzie scoffed, rolling her eyes.
He had never kissed her hand in greeting. Granted, she had never offered, but that was beside the point.
“Miss Barclay,” Malcolm addressed her, remembering their previous conversation about putting up the correct front in public. “Are ye ready to eat?”
Rosalie cleared her throat. “I believe introductions are in order, are they no’?”
Lizzie bit the inside of her cheek to stop her from saying something snide that she would regret. She took a deep breath and smiled.
“Of course, where are my manners? Lord Kennedy, this is Rosalie. I apologize, I didna get your last name.”
Rosalie waved her hand in the air, dismissing Lizzie’s inquiry. “Lord Kennedy? Well, ’tis a pleasure to meet ye, sir.” She stood and dipped into a curtsy, pushing forward so that her breasts drew attention.
Or at least that was her attempt. Instead, Malcolm cleared his throat and offered his hand to Lizzie. “I fear I am famished after our travels today. I am certain ye are as well.”
She nodded and stood, letting him pull her away from the table.
Rosalie sputtered, and Lizzie was pretty sure she would have stomped her foot on the ground if she wouldn’t look like a child having a tantrum.
Malcolm bent to her. “What was that all about?” he asked near her ear, his breath fanning her face.
Lizzie shrugged. “I honestly canna say. That was truly the oddest conversation I have e’er had.”
He pulled out a chair for her and she took a seat.
He settled across from her, unfolding the napkin and placing it on his lap. “Where is Mary?”
“She’s with the other servants, washing up and supping.”
Nodding, he looked over at the table where Rosalie had sat back down. She was currently shooting them a glare that Lizzie did not understand.
“I dinna ken what is wrong with her.” His brow wrinkled. “What was her name?”
“Rosalie.”
“Aye, I dinna ken what her issue is.”
“I think that is clear. Look at the way she keeps looking over here.”
He grunted in disinterest.
And a little spark of hope ignited in her chest.
“She is looking in the wrong place for whatever she is searching for.” He asked for a whisky from a passing server. “I’ve no need to look anywhere else.”
