God, I love the innocence of children.
“Nay,” Keira said after a pause. “I daenae think we should bother Grannie Ava. She complains of her knees these days.”
“Yes, I do not think it is wise to bother her. I will be grateful for any room in such a beautiful home,” Violet assured her.
“But I want ye to have a beautiful room,” Keira insisted with a pout.
“I will, you don’t need to worry.”
“Mhm,” Keira said with a thoughtful sigh. “If ye marry Da, ye will be me ma, and Ma was the lady of the castle. Ye can pick any room ye want. Ma’s room was beside Da’s, perhaps ye’d like to take that one?”
Violet studied the little girl’s face carefully for any sign of resentment or anger at the thought of her taking her mother’s title, rooms, and place in their family and clan.
In her experience, no matter how open-minded a child was, no one truly liked the idea of replacing a lost parent, and try as she might, she did not think that those were shoes she could fill that easily.
To her utmost surprise, there was nothing in the little girl’s expression that reflected anger. Her sweet visage only held gentle curiosity. Almost as if she had already accepted wholeheartedly that Violet was going to be her stepmother.
Such acceptance was almost unheard of in Violet’s experience, but it seemed this little girl staring at her so earnestly was the exception to the rule.
“I do not know,” she said finally when she found her voice. “I think it is up to your father to decide.” She broke their stare, fanning her skirts around her for want of something to do.
“Nay need, Da doesnae care for household matters. Grannie Ava says that housekeeping is best managed by the ladies of the castle, and ye’re to be the mistress soon, so ye decide. Unless ye wish to share Da’s room too.”
Violet’s head whipped around so fast to meet the earnest gaze of her newest little friend. The idea was shocking, not because it was unheard of for couples to share a room, but because Keira suggested it was a possibility for her and Ruaridh. While the ton believed that couples should keep separate rooms for propriety’s sake, love matches often made the exception.
Unfortunately, whatever marriage Violet was going to have with the grumpy Laird would be the farthest thing from a love match.
“Ma stayed in her room, but me friend Ailis said her da and ma shared the same room.”
“Perhaps they do not have enough room,” Violet suggested with a tight smile, wishing that would prompt the girl to change the topic.
Looking down the path, she found that while the castle was in sight, they still had to move cautiously through the village, dodging peddlers and passersby alike while trying to avoid many a puddle, so it would take quite a while before they arrived at the castle.
“Nay,” Keira replied. “Her da has a big castle. He is the Laird of Clan McGhee.”
Well, there went her ready excuse.
“Perhaps your da prefers to have the room to himself,” Violet tried.
Keira simply shrugged and busied herself by chewing on the crust of dry bread she had been clutching for quite a while. At least she had dropped the topic.
Sparing a look at the Laird, Violet saw that he was focused on the road ahead of them, his brow etched in concentration, sparing only a grunt of acknowledgement when a villager waved or cheered in greeting.
The man was an enigma. Some moments like this one, he was cold, the type of man she would believe capable of setting his wife away from his private rooms; other times, like the timewhen he had held her in his arms and offered to protect her, he revealed a fierce, heated part of him, a sensuality he kept closely hidden.
The question remained: Which side of him was the true part of him, and which one was the mask?
“We have arrived, Miss Violet,” his voice came, startling her out of her reverie. She had been so lost in thought that she had not realized they had arrived at the castle.
If the Laird noted her staring at him, he showed no sign of it. He only spared her a blank look.
He jumped off his horse and landed with agility, his kilt swaying around him. He reached up to lift Keira down from the horse and then turned to her. Her skin heated where his large hands curled around her waist, despite the layers between them.
He held her for a while after helping her down, ensuring that her legs did not quiver, then he let go. A strange wave of disappointment washed over her at the loss of his touch.
“Welcome to Castle McLeod,” he said in a gruff tone, before leading her and an excited Keira up the stairs.
The little girl was already skipping ahead, clearly eager to reunite with the household. She was almost close to the wide doors that sheltered the interior of the imposing castle fromprying eyes when a small woman stepped out, hunched over a cane.
