Chapter Two
Gunn had beenon edge all morning as he waited for Jocelyn to come down to the dining room to break her fast. Flora had informed him that she was very grateful for the meal last night.
He scoffed. A simple meal wasn’t anything to be so thankful for. The poor lass looked like she hadn’t eaten a hearty meal in a long time. She could use to put on some weight. She looked far too frail.
Or mayhap it was the dim light.
Seeing her in the sunlight would show him if his original assessment was correct.
Flora hurried into the room.
“My laird. Miss Jocelyn is on her way down,” she whispered excitedly, then threw her shoulders back when Jocelyn walked into the dining room. “Miss Jocelyn, I have readied this table for ye.” Pointing to a table, Flora waited for Jocelyn to sit before grabbing the tea pot.
Gunn noticed the way her eyes scanned the room before her shoulders relaxed. It was almost as if she was looking for someone. She folded her napkin on her lap and thanked Flora for the tea she poured.
There were so many questions he wanted to ask. But they all felt intrusive. Instead, he went with pleasantries and small talk once Flora left for the kitchen.
“Good morn. I hope ye have enjoyed your stay?”
She took a sip of tea, her tongue darting out to catch a drop on her lip and nodded.
His eyes tracked her tongue and he tugged at his collar. The room suddenly felt a wee bit warm.
“I did. You have been most kind, and the meal last night was delicious. You must give my compliments to your cook.”
“She will be glad to hear that. Flora will be out shortly with scones, jam, and clotted cream. Please let her ken if ye require aught else.”
He left the room for fear that he would ply her with questions. Not one to usually be the curious type, that was an area his friend, Malcolm, dominated. That man was curious about everything.
But for some reason, he just couldn’t get the questions about the woman to stop swirling about his head.
In his study, he sank into his chair and opened his books. Dread overcame him at the numbers listed there. Most of them in the negative. The last thing he could afford to do was rent out a room at a fifth of the cost. His conscience wouldn’t let him take advantage though. It wasn’t in his blood.
He wasn’t his father.
Nay, something in the reserved way Jocelyn spoke and acted let him ken that there was something amiss with her. He’d just met the lass, and yet an overwhelming sense of protectiveness washed over him. He didn’t get it. He’d never had this reaction to a lass before, especially one he’d just met.
He refocused on the numbers in the ledger spread out in front of him. If something didn’t change soon, he would either have to close the Thistle & Pig or sell it.
Neither of those were options he wanted to consider.
Failure had him slumping his shoulders. He just didn’t understand. Before he’d left to fight, it had been a thriving establishment. When he’d returned, it was barely staying afloat,and the money he’d set aside from its earnings had dwindled away.
His head snapped up at the knock on his door.
“Theodore,” he greeted, standing up and extending his hand for a shake.
“Gunn. Ye look like ye havena slept for days. What ails ye?”
He pushed his hands through his short hair. “I just wish I had an explanation for how e’erything went wrong.”
With a frown, the man looked around the room.
Theodore MacInnis had managed the establishment for Gunn while he was away. He’d kenned him for years and had full confidence in his ability to take care of the business while he was away.
Coming home to it on the verge of closing was not what he was expecting.
He sighed. “Looking o’er the books is misery.”
