He stared up at the high ceiling, his mind drifting slightly before the door opened. He did not need to look to know who it was.
“Are ye free?” Caelan asked.
Aaron shook his head slightly, shifting in his seat with another low groan.
Caelan drew his brows together. “Ye look like ye havenae slept in a week,” he said.
“That is because I havenae slept in a week,” Aaron replied sharply.
Caelan shut the door behind him and crossed the room, even though Aaron had not invited him in.
“Aye, I see that,” he said. “Yer temper’s worse than usual.”
“I daenae have a temper.”
Caelan nodded, not bothering with a reply. He leaned against the wall opposite the desk and folded his arms, his expression far too amused for a man standing in front of his Laird.
Aaron frowned. “If ye have come here to waste me time…”
“Nay,” Caelan said, his expression turning mildly serious. “Believe me, ’tis a serious matter.”
Aaron cocked a brow, leaning forward slightly.
Perhaps it is about MacFaris.
“I heard something interesting in the courtyard.”
Aaron frowned. “Ye’re always hearing the wrong things.”
“That depends,” Caelan said lightly. “Was it wrong to hear that ye took the lass out to the fields?”
Aaron’s jaw tightened. He returned to his papers, turning a page before him, though he had barely read it.
“I take many people to many places,” he muttered.
“That isnae what I asked.”
He cast a look at Caelan. “It is the answer ye are getting.”
Caelan hummed, clearly unconvinced. “So it isnae true that ye took yer betrothed out for a picnic?”
“I wouldnae call it a picnic.”
“What would ye call it, then?”
“An outing. ’Twas only for the people to see and talk. And clearly, it worked.”
Caelan let out a soft laugh. “The field hands also say ye spread out yer plaid for her.”
Aaron’s expression did not change. “I didnae.”
“Ahem…”
“It was necessary.”
“Aye,” Caelan said. “Very necessary. A man who spreads out his plaid on the grass for a woman he has no feelings for… Happens all the time.”
“The ground was damp,” Aaron stressed.
