Page 29 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

She retrieved her cup and glanced at the whisky. “Witchcraft would have made ye agree to the family hour without an argument.”

She left the cup beside his ledger and walked toward the open door. At the threshold, she turned.

“I shall see ye tomorrow for our next hour, me Laird.”

Oscar watched the door close behind her, already wanting tomorrow to come. “I cannae wait.”

CHAPTER 8

Ceana lunged across the garden path and caught Ness by the loose hide at her neck before the goat reached the lavender.

Oh, ye wee beast.

The animal planted her hooves in the earth and tugged backward, a leather strap hanging from her mouth. Tommy came charging after her with a wooden sword raised above his head. His boots struck the path hard enough to scatter gravel.

“Hold her, Ceana. She has stolen from a warrior.”

Ness jerked her head, but Ceana tightened her grip before the strap could slap her across the face. “A warrior should guard his possessions more carefully.”

“I was ambushed.”

Ceana sighed. “Ye tied it around yer waist and stood beside a hungry goat.”

“That is how she ambushed me.”

Paisley watched from a bench near the wall. Her sewing rested across her knees, forgotten for the moment. When Tommy tried to seize the strap and landed on his backside, her mouth curled into a quick smile.

Ceana freed the leather from Ness’s teeth. A small mark had been stamped near the buckle, the same mark she had seen on equipment in the training yard.

“Did yer faither give this to ye?”

Tommy pushed himself upright. “Nay.”

“Then it was the weapons master.”

His gaze moved toward the kitchen door. Ceana waited.

“I took it from beside the practice swords,” he admitted.

“Ye may return it yerself, or ye may ask a guard to go with ye.”

“I can return it.”

“Before dinner.”

Tommy accepted the strap with wounded dignity. He tucked it beneath his arm, then pursued Ness toward the lawn.

Paisley watched him go. “He used to wait until someone found what he had taken.”

“Then he is learnin’ to save everyone’s time.”

“Ye made him tell the truth.”

“He chose to tell it.” Ceana sat beside her and smoothed the skirt of her borrowed gown. “That part belongs to him now.”

A maid crossed the far path and greeted Ceana before stepping into the kitchen passage. Ceana knew now where the passage led. She also knew when the gardeners rested and which stairs Paisley used to avoid the crowded hall. The castle had begun to reveal its habits.

Within mere days, those habits might become hers.