“Thank you.” Not knowing what else to say, feeling outnumbered and embarrassed from the attention, she quickly dropped into a curtsy. Is that what you do for lairds? She didn’t know the proper protocols and didn’t want to seem uncultured, so she made the move just in case before leaving the room.
He smiled warmly and Jocelyn noted how the gesture transformed his face. He really was a handsome man. His strong jaw looked like it was carved from stone. A small crook in his nose led her to believe that he may have broken it in the past.
“I shall have Flora bring up tea as well to help get ye warm.”
Jocelyn averted her eyes. She shouldn’t be staring. “T-t-thank you,” Jocelyn called over her shoulder as she ascended thestairs to her room. Moments later, Flora arrived with another servant and together they filled a tub with hot water.
Once the water was so high, Jocelyn was sure it would slosh over the sides the instant she stepped into it, Flora handed her towels and a bar of herbal soap.
“After ye’ve bathed, just leave your gown outside your door. I will pick it up and bring it to the laundress.”
Left alone, she stripped off the soaked garment. Her skin was damp and pimpled in the cool air. Testing the water with her hand, the temperature was perfect. She stepped in and sank into the hot water with a sigh. Instantly the tension melted from her muscles and she relaxed against the back of the tub.
Ever since she’d left Victor, her body had been tense. Her muscles bunched up, ready to flee if she happened to see him on any of her stops.
It was silly, but she felt safe here. She laughed, the sound loud in the empty room. She had only met two people here. Why was she already feeling a sense of peace? It made no sense.
Finishing up her bath, she toweled herself dry and dressed. Running a brush through her hair, she secured it in a chignon at the base of her neck, and gathered her wet gown, rolling it into a ball.
Not wanting to be waited on hand and foot, she refused to leave it outside her door. Since she needed to speak with the laird anyway, she would go downstairs and deliver it to Flora herself.
She found Flora wiping down tables in the dining hall.
“Och, miss. Ye could have left that for me to pick up,” she said as she reached for the wet gown.
Jocelyn handed it over. “Do you know where the laird is, by chance? I wish to speak with him if he has a moment.”
“I believe he may be in his study.” She draped Jocelyn’s gown over her arm. “If ye follow me, I’ll take ye there.”
Jocelyn nodded. “I would appreciate that.” She followed Flora through the inn and down a back hallway.
They paused at a heavy wooden door and Flora knocked.
“Aye?” Was the response from the other side.
“My laird, Miss Jocelyn would like to speak to ye.”
A few long moments passed, and Jocelyn wondered if he was going to come to the door, before it finally swung open. The smell of cherry tobacco wrapped around her.
His brows raised in surprise. “Is e’rything alright?”
She straightened her shoulders, trying to convey confidence that she didn’t necessarily feel. “It is. I wondered if we might have a conversation. If you have time, of course.”
“Aye, come in. Please.” He stepped aside and swept his arm in front of him, welcoming her inside.
Flora excused herself and scurried down the hall.
“Have a seat,” the laird offered, dipping his head toward the front of his desk, where chairs were set up side by side.
Jocelyn sank into the overstuffed wingback chair. The size of it seemed to swallow her up, making her feel small. But it was comfortable.
The laird’s study was warm and welcoming. A fire blazed in the hearth. The logs crackled as they burnt, sparks flying up toward the shue. The walls were papered in a dark blue and brown striped pattern. His massive desk was covered with papers, books, and ledgers. He sat in a brown leather chair, his fingers steepled under his chin, watching her with curious eyes.
Straightening, she said, “Thank you for meeting with me. I am sure you are busy, so I appreciate your time.” She smoothed the skirt of her gown with her palms, a feeble attempt to calm her nerves. “First, I must apologize. I know you told me your name last night, but I fear that with everything happening, I have forgotten it. I mean no disrespect.”
He smiled, showing off straight white teeth. “None taken. Gunn Burnett.”
Gunn. Such a unique name. How could she have forgotten that?
