Page 65 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

“It may. Monthly courses can begin during sleep or before ye have a cloth ready.” Ceana placed the remaining linen in her hands. “If a sheet is stained, we wash it. Ye neednae hide from me or Mairi.”

Paisley looked back at the bed. “Could I sleep on another folded cloth until it stops? And keep a spare sheet in the chest?”

“Aye. We shall arrange both.”

Ceana opened the chest. Paisley passed over a pale green gown and chose one of dark blue wool.

“That one, please.”

Ceana helped secure the back ties and made no comment on the color.

Paisley smoothed both hands over the dark skirt. “Will me courses come every month?”

“They usually return almost every month.” Ceana refolded a clean cloth whose edges had slipped out of place. “Mine have never been regular. Sometimes they come late. Sometimes they daenae come for months.”

Paisley turned away from the small mirror. “Does that mean somethin’ is wrong with ye?”

The linen creased beneath Ceana’s fingers. She released it and flattened the fold against her knee. “Irregular courses daenae make a woman broken.”

Saying it to Paisley required no effort. However, she had never managed to look at herself in a mirror and give herself the same reassurance.

“So mine might be irregular too?”

“They may take time to become regular. Anyway, ye mustnae lie alone and frighten yerself.”

Paisley touched the ties at her waist. At this point, her hands had stopped trembling.

“Would ye rather rest here or go back downstairs?” Ceana asked.

“I daenae want everyone thinkin’ I am ill.”

“Then we shall go down. Yer faither kept the passage clear. If ye wish to return here later, ye need only tell me.”

Paisley’s face softened. “I am glad ye are here.”

Ceana’s hand stopped on the folded linen. Paisley had run through the castle calling for her. The girl had chosen her. Something about that tugged at her heart.

She set down the linen, drew Paisley into her arms, and kissed her forehead. “So am I, lass.”

The passage remained empty when Ceana opened the door. They found Oscar at the foot of the stairs, facing the landing as if he had heard them come out.

His gaze went directly to his daughter. He took in her clean gown and steadier face, then glanced at Ceana and waited.

“She will be well,” she assured him.

Oscar gave a slow nod. Thankfully, he did not press the issue. Something seemed to tell him now wasn’t the time.

He moved aside to let them pass. As Ceana descended towards him, his hand lifted to the small of her back. His palm came within inches of her gown before his fingers curled and his arm fell.

Her body remembered the press of his hand against her bare skin, and her back tingled with every step.

In the breakfast hall, her place had not been touched, though a fresh cup of tea sat ready beside her plate. The food on Oscar’s plate looked barely touched. He pulled out Paisley’s chair, and Ceana took her seat without mentioning the bed he had left.

Tommy hurried in with Ness tugging at the lead. He stopped when he saw Paisley’s red-rimmed eyes, looked over her face, and asked no question.

“Will ye play hide and seek?” he asked. “The whole castle is better when there are more hunters.”

Paisley glanced at Ceana.