Page 99 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

“Then ye can go, me Laird.”

His jaw tensed before he turned and walked out. Ceana watched until he disappeared from view.

Outside, the carpenter called the lift, and the first timber rose from the courtyard in the hands of four men. Ceana opened the ledger, set her finger beneath the next entry, and returned to her work.

Later at noon, she found herself helping Muriel. She drew a piece of twine tight around a packet of dried yarrow while Muriel checked the label. She passed over the smaller jar before Muriel asked and cut another length from the spool.

Muriel glanced at the jar and gave her a private smile. They had worked together often enough that they barely needed to speak.

A sealed response to the inquiry regarding Muriel’s marriage lay beside the herb ledger, the seal unbroken. Ceana moved Muriel’s cup and the finished herb packets away from it.

“Thank ye,” Muriel said quietly.

Paisley sat near the fireplace with a book open on her knees. Across the room, Oscar attended to correspondence at the table. When Ceana looked up, she found him staring at her hands. His gaze rose to meet hers before he returned to the letter before him.

Tommy waited until Mairi had set down the tea tray and every adult had settled before dragging a low stool to the center of the room and climbing onto it with a rolled sheet beneath one arm. Planting his feet apart, he tucked his free hand behind his back in imitation of Oscar addressing the council.

Dear God, what mischief is the boy up to this time?

“I have prepared a treasure hunt.”

Ceana set down the spool. “Have ye now?”

“Aye.”

She wiped her hands on the front of her dress. “Well then, I hope ye have made it difficult. I have a reputation to uphold.”

His grin widened. “Only I ken where the treasure is. If nobody finds it by the end of the day, I may keep it.”

“How convenient. A rule written entirely for yer own benefit.” She leaned one elbow on the table. “What treasure has inspired such generosity?”

Tommy lifted his chin. “Faither’s signet ring!”

Oscar’s quill paused above the page. His gaze dropped to the bare index finger of his right hand, then flicked to his son. “Thomas.”

Tommy straightened on the stool, though his shoulders hunched slightly.

“The signet ring isnae a toy,” Oscar chided. His level voice made Tommy draw the map closer to his chest. “Where did ye find it?”

“On the desk in yer study. Ye had finished usin’ it.”

“And ye took it without askin’?”

Tommy’s toes curled over the edge of the stool. “Well, it makes excellent treasure because ye just said it is important.”

Ceana pressed her lips together. The reasoning belonged wholly to a five-year-old.

Oscar laid down the quill. “Takin’ what isnae yers without permission is theft, even when ye mean to use it for a game. Ye will never take the ring again unless I have given ye leave. Do ye understand?”

“Aye, Faither.” Tommy looked down at the roll beneath his arm. “I promise.”

Mairi spoke from beside the tea tray. “He showed me where he put it, me Laird. The ring is wrapped in wool and secure. I can fetch it if ye need it.”

Oscar studied her as she adjusted the teapot, meeting his scrutiny calmly. However, before he could answer, the door opened. Lennan entered with several folded papers tucked beneath his arm.

“A rider leaves before dusk,” he said. “These need yer seal before he goes.”

Tommy looked at his father with renewed confidence. “Ye had better start lookin’.”