Page 71 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

“Lady Pilbury, ye shouldnae have walked so far!”

“Oh, I’m fine, dear!” Lady Pilbury responded, smiling. “I feel well today, and Helena thought that a little walk would do me good. I am here to say that there’s some new sweet in the kitchen. I am not sure what it is, but it’s something Scottish, and Helena is quite sure that you’ll enjoy it, Willow.”

Willow perked up. “Can I go, Mama? Can I try the sweet?”

“Of course, pet.”

Willow set off at a sprint, with the fox racing after her.

Lady Pilbury chuckled with delight and limped after them, pulling the door closed behind her. There was a click, and it stayed shut.

Daphne’s eyes widened, and she glanced toward the door.

“Stay,” Hunter ordered. “I want us to talk about last night.”

“Well, I daenae want to talk about it,” she responded briskly. “Do ye intend to keep me here?”

“Nay, of course nae.”

“Good.” She stepped past him, head high, shoulders back.

She’s angry with me, he thought wryly. But she wasnae angry before. Nae when we⁠—

Enough of that. She liked him enough, he knew that. But there was something else, a barrier between them.

Had the past five years built that barrier? Maybe. A pregnant, unmarried woman faced a lot of anxiety and hardships.

Maybe that was why she was so distant. Or maybe it was really what she said, her fear about the vow.

I’m glad she doesnae ken the whole story. She’ll find out eventually, I’m sure, but nae… nae yet.

Daphne passed by, leaving a trail of rosewater and lavender perfume in her wake. He fought not to lean forward and breathe it in.

Today, she was wearing a plain dark yellow dress with little red flowers embroidered on the hem. It was an English dress, not something that would stand up against the dirt and damp of the Highlands, but it would do well enough in the keep.

She reached the door, seized the doorknob, and turned it.

Nothing happened. The door rattled but did not open. She frowned, jiggling the knob.

“It willnae open,” she said, somewhat unnecessarily.

Hunter sighed. “Aye, there’s a wee problem with the lock on this door. Were ye told by any chance nae to close it entirely?”

She gulped. “Nay. I only told Lady Pilbury where I was going…”

“Aye, and she’ll nae ken. Which is why she closed it. Oh, dear.”

She jiggled the knob again, more vigorously. “Well, daenae just stand there! Do something!”

“We could have a go at jumping out of the window.”

“Be serious. I want to get out.”

He threw himself onto the settee she had just vacated and slung a leg over the armrest. “Somebody will come for us,” he said bluntly. “We’ll nae starve to death in here. In the meantime, I’d like to talk.”

“I’m sure ye would,” Daphne muttered darkly. “How could this have happened?”

“Of course,” Hunter mused aloud, “it’s possible that me nosy mother mentioned the tricky door to Lady Pilbury, and they might have contrived to have us stuck in here. What do ye think of that?”