Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
"Yer belongings have arrived, mistress."
The sweet voice rang out like a songbird in the morning. Leona stretched out in bed, rubbing at her eyes, and then was met with a sudden pounding in her head. Groggily, she sat up and glanced around the empty room. Her eyes narrowed, and she wondered where Isobel and Maisie had gone. They had spent most of the nights since Isobel's arrival staying up late reading, tinged with some gossip.
The maid, Flora, stepped into the room and, with some other servants, brought in the heavy trunks. "Where would ye care for them?" she asked as she went to the wardrobe, pulling out the clothing that Leona would wear for the day.
Leona shrugged, wishing to go back to sleep. "Anywhere is fine."
"Ye best get dressed, mistress. 'Tis almost noon."
Sighing, she pulled her legs over the side of the bed and managed to convince herself to stand. She felt tired and sore. She hadn't had an easy time falling asleep after what her damn betrothed had said – and done – in his study.
Her mind had been full of images of what would have happened if she hadn't left. They kept her up all night. Damn the man!
Her mouth was dry as she yawned.
Flora helped her change, putting her in a dark yellow gown, which didn't seem to fit quite right. Leona did not question this, though, and wasn't in the state to dig through her clothes that had just been brought in.
"I was surprised to hear that Caelan would be marrying," Flora said in a nonchalant tone as she gently brushed through Leona's hair. As she worked, she hummed a gentle, sweet tone, something that sounded foreign to her ears.
Leona pretended to be uninterested, but her curiosity got the best of her. "What makes ye say that, Flora?"
"Oh, 'tis nae anythin' to concern yerself with," the maid shrugged. From the reflection in the mirror, Leona could see that she was working hard at brushing out the mass of tangles; a determined look passed over Flora's face. "Truthfully, he's likely outgrown such a thing."
Leona eyed her expectantly.
"Ah, I beg of ye nae to be cross with me, mistress. 'Twas before ye came to us here, and I ken that I hold no standing with yerself," she seemed careful with her words, but even without laying it out plainly, Leona had a feeling she knew. "The laird… well, he dinnae seem the type to devote himself to one lass at once."
"I havenae gotten that impression," Leona frowned.
Flora shook her head. "As I said, mistress. He is like to have changed. Ye are a bonnie, wee thing, and I daenae think he would stray far. But…"
"But? Please, be honest with me, Flora. I am nae upset with ye."
Flora looked nearly in tears. "He… did make a wee pass at me the other night. I saw him outside near the gardens, and he seemed so troubled that I couldnae say no. Please," she whispered between shattering sobs; her hands were shaking as she set the brush down. "Please daenae say that I told ye. I ken how much he has come to enjoy yer company, mistress."
Leona felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. The air was knocked out of her. She swallowed hard and forced her most convincing smile. "'Tis our secret," she said before standing up.
Flora seemed to shy away. "A-are ye cross with me–"
"Nay, nae at all. Will ye see to it that me belongings are put away?"
"Aye, of course."
Leona walked with her head high, her jaw tight, and her chest on the verge of collapsing, out the door. Gently, she closed it behind her and let out a long, shaky breath. If she felt this horrible, how terrible did the maid truly feel? She had been in tears and afraid.
I need to go speak to him . But did she have the courage to face him now?
Each step towards the study seemed to weigh her down even more, and her mind raced. When they married, would Caelan keep mistresses at his beck and call? She thought about their kiss and her desire for more, but that was met with uncertainty. He had made a pass at Flora? Was that after he had kissed her passionately?
Leona stood outside the study, her heart racing and her body shaking. She was surprisingly hurt in a way she had never experienced before. With a deep breath, she knocked. Her knuckles rapped against the hardwood; each tap was her sinking deeper and deeper into the pool of dread.
"Enter."
She hesitated but then turned the handle. As she was about to step inside, she almost collided with his chest. Caelan reached out, grabbing her by the shoulders to steady her frame as she recoiled back from impact. Leona quickly brushed his hands off her and then forced herself to look up.
Damn him for being so handsome . It was almost unnerving and entirely unfair.
"Leona, is everythin' well?"
She turned her gaze down, focusing on her own feet. "Aye."
Why had she come? She had felt far more determined earlier, but now, as she stood across from him, she realized she did not know what to say or do. "I willnae trouble ye long," she said softly. "I came for a book."
Caelan stepped aside and motioned for her to enter. She moved past him and rushed to the nearest shelf. Absentmindedly, she began to scan the spines, but nothing caught her eye. Pick something, anything and get out . All of her resolve had washed away, and she did not know what to do with herself.
Finally, she settled on one. The flowers of the Highlands. "Isobel will love this one," she whispered to herself. Leona turned to see him watching her; a look of confusion tangled with concern was plainly on his face.
Caelan frowned. "Does Isobel enjoy flowers?"
"Aye," she said with a small smile. "The lass has a green thumb."
"Perhaps ye could bring her to the gardens."
The place where ye did god-knows-what with the maid?
Leona swallowed her tongue and nodded. "Aye."
As she started for the door, he stepped in the way. His head tilted to the side, and he frowned. "Leona? Is everything all right? Ye should ken, ye can tell me whatever is on yer mind. I may nae be much help, but–"
"I just drank too much last night," she said quickly. It was half true.
He seemed to be relieved by this. "Have ye had something to eat?"
"I'm not very hungry."
Shaking his head while mumbling to himself about amateurs, he moved to the small table near the fireplace and pulled the silver cover off some baked sweets. Leona eyed them, about to state that she was fine, but then her stomach growled in protest. She cursed under her breath.
"Eat just one, lass," he said as he handed her a pastry.
Delicately, she picked away at it. It was good, and she eyed the rest.
Together, they sat at the small table. Try as she might, she couldn't help but let the stone walls that had been suddenly built crumble. Flora's words seemed to fade, and she found herself more at ease.
"So, this book reading group ," he smirked. "Tell me about it."
"I daenae believe yer meant to be privy to such."
"And why is that?"
"Ye're nae a woman, and ye're nae invited. I think yer sister made that very clear yesterday."
He rolled his eyes. "Then tell me, what is yer favorite book?"
"I daenae ken, truth be told. I havenae read it yet. Definitely nae The Taming of the Shrew," she said, eyeing him suspiciously.
Caelan smirked as he watched her, his eyes focusing on nothing else. She felt as if she could have been the only thing in his world. Finally, he shifted in his seat and leaned back. "Ye may read whatever is in here, ye already know that," he said, watching as her face lit up. "But–"
"Ah, there's always a but."
"But," he suppressed a smile. "Ye must read in here with me. Ye must always invite me when ye're goin' to use yer key."
Leona would've read in a privy if that's what it took. She glanced along the walls and at all of the books. There were easily hundreds. Like fruit from a tree, they were ripe for the picking.
"Can I ask ye somethin'?"
She nodded, though her gaze was focused on the shelves. "Aye."
"It's about the other night."
Leona tensed at the mention.
"Can we speak on it?"
She stood and bowed stiffly. "Another time, please? I-I think I need to be alone, just to clear m'head. Forgive me," Leona started for the door, half expecting him to stop her, but when he didn't, she moved even quicker still. All the feelings she had felt earlier came back now like a storm rolling in. Why do I care so much?