Page 52 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

Edith was sitting up in bed, dwarfed by a profusion of pillows and blankets. She had spectacles perched on the edge of her nose and was guiltily setting aside a book.

“I’m fairly sure ye are meant to be asleep,” Helena observed, hobbling over to the bed and flopping down on the chair beside it.

Edith sighed. “Yes, I am. But I woke, as I often do. I thought reading would tire me out. It’s not particularly late, is it? I thought you might still be at dinner.”

“It was cut short. Edith, what do ye ken about Willow’s parentage?”

Edith gave her a long, knowing look.

Helena sucked in a sharp breath, leaning forward.

“Ye kent,” she breathed. “Ye wretch! Ye kent and didnae tell me! How long did ye ken?”

“Oh, I guessed as soon as I saw Laird MacCrimmon standing in front of Willow,” Edith sniffed, removing her spectacles. “I was going to tell you, but I had it confirmed by Daphne, and I thought I would give your boy the courtesy of telling you himself.”

“Hah! Ye give him too much credit. I daresay he was going to keep it a secret from me for a while longer. Men, eh?”

“Men,” Edith agreed, pleating the bedsheets between her fingers.

“Well, what are we going to do? I came here for yer advice. I have nay idea meself.”

Edith chewed on her lower lip, thinking. “Well, the obvious solution would be for them to wed, but they don’t seem to like each other very much.”

Helena stared at her. “Daenae… Daenae seem to like each other?”

“Yes, they’re always squabbling. Didn’t you notice? They glare at each other all the time.”

For a moment, Helena was tempted to laugh. She thought back to what she knew about Lord Pilbury, a quiet, round-faced man who never thought ill of anyone. He and Edith had been an excellent match, and both had been excessively happy with each other. However, neither of them had been particularly passionate people.

“I think they might like each other a wee bit more than ye realize,” Helena managed.

Edith blinked. “Oh? You think so?”

“I’m fairly sure of it.”

“Well then, in that case, I’d be pleased to see them marry. Do you think they’ll make a match of it?”

Helena leaned forward, resting her elbows on the edge of the bed. “Nae without a little help,” she said darkly.

Edith’s eyes grew round. “You can’t possibly mean that we should meddle! Why, it’s none of our business.”

“None of our business? That’s me son and granddaughter. And I cannae help but think that ye look at Daphne as a daughter.”

Edith looked away. “It’s true. If I’d had a daughter, I would have wanted her to be like Daphne. Oh, I’d so like her to be happy, but I don’t know what we can do. What if she refuses to marry Hunter?”

“Well, that’s why we have to hurry up and make them realize that they want to be together.”

Edith nodded slowly, mulling this over. “And… And how do we do that? I can’t think of any way of doing it. Should we sit them down and speak plainly to them?”

“God, nay, woman. They’ll clam up if we do that. Nay, we have to be sneaky.”

CHAPTER 12

“I had a thought,” Helena announced, leaning forward over her plate of sausages and egg.

“Dangerous, Mother,” Hunter drawled, raising an eyebrow.

She shot him a look.