Lizzie straightened her arms and fisted the duvet. “Nay. I mean, aye, I will be happy to be home. But I dinna look forward to dealing with my parents’ wrath. They are going to be most upset with me.”
Mary sighed. “Aye, ye will need to put your debating skills to use when that conversation happens,” she chided.
Lizzie kenned she was trying to lighten the mood, and she appreciated her maid for doing so. But she still dreaded their arrival.
“I suppose on the bright side, I will be able to prove my innocence to the earl.”
“Right. That is a good thing, is it no’?”
She sighed. “’Tis. Do ye think he dislikes me so?”
Mary frowned. “Whye’er do ye ask such a thing?”
“His demeanor today was quite distant. Did ye no’ think so? ’Twas much different than previously.” She opted not to tell Mary of how attractive she found him when he let down his guard. Or how his deep brogue had her toes curling in her slippers.
“I think he may just have a lot on his mind. Mayhap he is questioning whether or no’ ye really are the thief.” Mary pulled her to a sitting position. “We both ken ye are no’, but he doesna ken aught about ye.”
She blew out an exasperated breath and pushed off the bed. She spoke as she looked out the window, taking in the city below. “I was trying to initiate some of that earlier, but he didna bite. I fear he just believes I am a thief and he’s ready to be rid of me.”
“Ye must stop these negative thoughts, Miss.” Mary set about unpacking their bags for the night.
Mary was right, of course. But Lizzie was beginning to think that Malcolm just wanted to get her home and have naught else do with her. Her feelings were all over the place and she didn’t quite understand why it bothered her so much. Why she felt she needed his validation, she didn’t ken.
For whatever reason, she wanted him to like her. It made no sense.
She watched the passersby with interest and wondered what it would be like to walk down the street on Malcolm’s arm. Would they be like the young couple that just entered the bakery across the way, on the hunt for some sweets to share? Or would they be like the family that slowly ambled along, the woman’s belly round with child, as a tot walked between them, each of them holding onto one of his tiny hands? She could only imagine the looks they would receive in either scenario. Indeed they would make a dashing pair, she dared to admit.
A plan started to bloom in her mind. She turned with a chuckle and Mary looked at her like she had two heads, her brow raised in question.
Shaking her head, she dismissed the unspoken question with a wave of her hand.
She would get Malcolm to know her. To like her.
Later that night, after Mary had fallen asleep, Lizzie slipped out of bed. Malcolm had reserved the room right next to them, though she wouldna be surprised if he was standing guard outside their door in the hall. Just as he had done in every inn they’d stayed in on this journey.
Pushing her feet into slippers, she pulled on her robe and cinched it at the waist. With one last look over her shoulder to make sure Mary still slept, she opened the door and slipped out into the hall.
As expected, Malcolm was there. He looked positively exhausted with his shoulders slumped as he leaned his back against the door. She couldn’t blame him. She could count on her hands the amount of sleep he’d had since they’d left Twynholm.
“Let me guess,” Malcolm spoke quietly. “Ye canna sleep and are in search of warm milk?”
Rubbing her hands together, she took a deep breath, trying to tamp down her nerves that had her stomach suddenly in knots.
“I am no’. I was wondering if we might talk?”
His brows furrowed and his mouth turned down into a frown. He straightened as his eyes darted to the door. “Is something wrong?”
Holding her hands out in front of her to calm him down, she shook her head. “Nay, no’ at all. All is well. Mary is sleeping like the dead.” She laughed and began to pace the floor. “I dinna think traveling sits verra well with her. She finds it tiring.”
A smile brightened his face and Malcolm nodded in understanding. “I miss those days.” He bent his knee and slung his arm over the top.
“I do feel awfully bad that I am the cause of your lack of sleep.”
“Och, Lass. Ye arena. Dinna fash about that. Now, what would ye like to talk about?”
She glanced up and down the hall. The hour was late and she didn’t want to wake anyone trying to rest in their rooms.
“May we speak in private? I wouldna want to wake and anger any other patrons here.”
