Page 13 of It’s in his Highland Kiss

Lady MacLeod looked just like Marion remembered, if a little greyed at the temples. She was a beautiful woman, and Marion could see that Eiric had gotten some of his looks from her, though he had his father’s coloring.

She watched as Lady MacLeod wrapped her arms around her son, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Ach, it’s been so long, too long!” she said, before she pulled back and gave Eiric a careful, scrutinizing look. “Ye havena been eatin’. I told ye to make sure ye eat, lad, and ye come back home lookin’ like this.”

“I’m fine,” Eiric assured her with a roll of his eyes, much to Marion’s amusement. “And noo ye’ll have someone else to feed.”

As he spoke, he took a step to the side, revealing Marion to his mother. Lady MacLeod seemed to recognise her immediately, and her eyes widened with that recognition as she took Marion’s hands in her own, holding them tightly.

“Marion!” she exclaimed. “We havena seen ye in so long! What . . . what are ye doin’ here?” And then, as though she could already tell that there was something suspicious about Marion’s sudden arrival, she turned to look at her son once more. “Eiric . . . what have ye done?”

“I havena done anythin’ that ye wouldna have done,” Eiric said. “I told Lady Hadlee that I would take her daughter to Scotland, because ye’re nae feelin’ verra weel, and ye’d like to have yer niece’s company. I told her ye’d make a good wife out of her.”

“Eiric MacLeod!” his mother hissed, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of her nose in the same way that Marion had seen Eiric do. They were very much alike, she noticed, with the same mannerisms, and the same kind gaze. “What have ye done? When is the lass supposed to go back home?”

“Supposed to? In six months,” Eiric said. “But I told her she can stay as long as she wishes.”

Marion could see it in Lady MacLeod’s gaze, in the thin line of her lips, that she didn’t approve of Eiric’s decision, but she didn’t voice her objection. Instead, she gave Marion a warm smile and began to lead her towards the castle, gesturing at her son to follow.

“Ye must be exhausted, poor thing. And ye look absolutely dreadful!” Lady MacLeod told Marion, never one to hold back when it came to telling the truth. “Weel, I’ll have the maids draw ye a bath, and then ye can rest until it’s time for dinner.”

Marion could hardly argue with Lady MacLeod, even if she had wanted to. The woman was insistent, pulling on her and dragging her around the castle, and when Marion looked behind her, she saw that Eiric was nowhere to be found.

“Lady MacLeod—”

“Please, call me Adaria,” she interrupted.

“A-Adaria, thank you for allowing me to stay here with you,” Marion said. “I know that it must have been a surprise, and Eiric did something foolish, perhaps, by bringing me here, but I promise you, I won’t be a burden.”

Adaria stopped walking and turned to look at Marion, her hand resting on Marion’s cheek, and it was the most motherly affection she had ever received.

It was almost enough to make Marion cry. She could feel that tell-tale knot in her throat. She could feel her eyes welling up, but she bit her tongue and forced the tears down. She didn’t want Adaria to see her cry over something so silly.

“We are more than happy to have ye here, Marion,” Adaria assured her. “Our home is always open for ye. It’s not ye I worry about, it’s yer maither. That woman will march up to our door with an army if ye dinna return soon enough, but . . . och, I ken what she’s like. I ken how she treats ye. I dinna have the heart to let ye go back if ye dinna wish to go back. But that’s a conversation for another day,” she said, a smile gracing her lips. “For noo, ye’ll just have yer bath and yer rest, and then we’ll see what we’ll do in the future.”

It sounded like a good plan to Marion, who would like to spend as much time as she could without thinking about her mother. Her home was the last thing on her mind in that moment, especially since there was an entire castle for her to explore.

The room where Adaria took her was just as lavish as the rest of the castle. A bed of heavy mahogany sat against the middle of the back wall, gilt details decorating the frame. It was draped with blue covers; the sheets, a crisp white, seemed so inviting to Marion.

But first, she needed a bath. Her days on the road had left her filthy, and the dress that she had borrowed from Mary was all but ruined, the hem torn and soiled with mud.

“Ye just wait here, and I’ll have the maids come soon,” Adaria assured her, as she left the room, leaving Marion all alone.

She could hardly believe everything that had happened in the previous weeks. It hadn’t been so long ago when she had been in England, wishing for a different life, praying to the Lord that she would finally get to live instead of simply surviving, and now here she was. She had the new life for which she had so desperately wished and prayed, yet she didn’t know what to do with it.

She didn’t consider herself a girl who was suited for a life in a castle. Such girls were beautiful, refined, and knew how to dress and how to act around others. All Marion knew was how to sit quietly and make herself as invisible as possible.

She jumped when the door opened, the sudden sound taking her by surprise. Soon, three young maids were walking around the room, one holding a big, wooden tub, the other two large pitchers of water, and the last a dress, its fabric an exquisite royal blue with embroidered details.

That dress can’t possibly be for me. It’s far too expensive for me to wear.

Despite her thoughts, she didn’t dare voice her concerns. The last thing that Marion wanted was to seem ungrateful, or to suggest that the laird and the lady of the clan couldn’t afford to dress her in such garments.

She had already become a burden to them in her mind though. Surely, that dress must have been expensive, and though Marion didn’t know to whom it belonged, that woman was bound to miss it.

She could make her own clothes. Perhaps she would suggest that to Adaria.

“Thank you, all,” Marion told the women, and then waited for them to leave the room so that she could bathe, but it soon became clear to her that they weren’t going anywhere. All three of them looked at her expectantly, patiently waiting for her to give them permission to undress her. “I . . . I can do this on my own, you don’t have to—”

“Nonsense!” the woman who had carried the bathtub said, the oldest of the three. “Come noo, lasses, let us begin.”