After giving her nose a firm blow, she went down on her hands and knees and pulled her traveling bag out from under the bed. Then she began extracting the garments she’d brought with her from England or ones that Edie had given her. Though she was exhausted, sleep would elude her, so she might as well pack and be ready to leave at first light.
After organizing her clothes, she sat down at the writing desk to begin composing a letter to Dominic. Unfortunately, persistent tears obscured her vision. When a soft knock sounded on her door, she breathed a sigh of relief and put down the pen.
“Coming.” While she desperately hoped it was Nicholas, she knew he had too much wounded pride to seek her out.
She was surprised to see Angus when she opened the door.
He grimaced. “Aye, ye look blue-deviled, and that’s a fact. Ye and Nick had a fight, I ken.”
She sighed.
“Over a Sassenach ye killed, I take it.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Were you eavesdropping?”
He shrugged. “Couldna hear everything, but enough.”
“Then you can understand why his lordship is so upset.”
“Och, he may be my laird and my grandson, but he’s a daft fool.”
She stared at him. “Mr. MacDonald, I killed someone.”
“Aye, but just a Sassenach.”
“That isnota good enough reason to kill someone,” she said, exasperated.
When he grinned at her, she couldn’t hold back a disbelieving laugh.
His smile faded. “Lass, did he deserve it?”
“Well, I certainly deserved to defend myself.”
“And the brute would have hurt ye if ye hadna acted so?”
“Yes, he would have.”
“Then ye did the right and just thing,” Angus said. “And I’ll be settin’ the laird straight on that first thing in the mornin’.”
She was touched and rather astonished by his support. Then again, killing an Englishman had obviously raised her standing in his eyes.
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Yer not leavin’ us, lass. The laird needs ye. We all need ye.”
She blinked, trying not to cry again.
“Nay, no waterworks,” he said. “Now, have a wee sleep and we’ll sort it out later. I’d speak to Nick tonight, but I dinna have time right now.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
He grinned and tapped the side of his nose. “Things to do, lass. Now get ye some rest.”
Her suspicions during dinner reasserted themselves. “What are you up to, Mr. MacDonald?”
“Ta,” he said with a wave and a smile. He strode away down the darkened hall, his kilt swirling around his skinny legs. A few seconds later, his rapid footsteps pattered downstairs.
For a moment, she wavered in the doorway, thinking she should follow him or go tell Nicholas about the old man’s suspicious behavior. But the thought of seeing the earl again, or trying to deal with another problem, simply overwhelmed her.
