Page 18 of When the Laird Conquers

Agnes waved a dismissive hand. “There is no need for apology, Marcus. Anyone could have missed it.”

“Ye’re too kind, Miss Agnes.” Marcus bowed his head to reveal a shiny spot amidst his silvered hair. “I’ll be on me way to the village now. I promise ye, this letter willnae leave me hand for even a moment.”

Agnes smiled at him, seeing some of the grandfather she could just remember in the old man’s warm face. “I trust you, Marcus.”

“I willnae let ye down.” He turned and departed the castle, moving quickly across the courtyard to the main gates.

Watching until he was gone, Agnes puffed out a relieved breath. She had no idea how the old man hadn’t seen the letter when it had been right there on the bronze tray, but she wasn’t going to make him feel bad about it. Marcus and Iona were already doing so much to make her and Lizzy feel welcome; she could ignore a small mistake.

Even if it baffled her.

Is he possibly losing his sight? He isn’t a young man, after all.

She shrugged off her concern, for if Marcus could bound up and down stairs with all the agility of a hare, he could assuredly get her letter to the village without incident. Whether his vision was impaired or not, she trusted him to send her correspondence.

Approaching the stairs to make her ascent once more, Agnes looked up at the never-ending spiral and pulled a face. One thing was for certain: she would be a good deal healthier and stronger after staying here at Castle Buchlann.

I should have brought Lizzy with me, she scolded herself. It wasn’t fair of me to use her to avoid a conversation.

After all, she still didn’t know what had happened five years ago. If it turned out to be something awful, something that finally explained why Gordon and his clan were marked as dangerous, she would regret leaving her niece in his care.

The thought quickened her steps, despite the stiffness in her thighs and the ache in the arches of her feet and the strain on her lungs and the odd metallic taste in her throat.

Stumbling up the final steps, she came to a breathless halt in the hallway where she had left her niece with Gordon. She leaned against the wall to catch her breath, though nothing could temper the surprise of the scene before her.

Lizzy lay in the crook of Gordon’s arm, so tiny in comparison to the giant man that it was almost comical.

Gordon glanced up at Agnes and raised a finger to his lips.

An unexpected warmth spread across Agnes’s chest at the gesture, charmed by his concern for her niece. Clearly, he was unaware that many babies, particularly Lizzy, had the capacity to sleep through just about anything. Indeed, the quietest sound was more likely to wake Lizzy than a thousand horses charging past her.

“Thank you for watching over her,” Agnes said, approaching.

Gordon almost seemed to hesitate before he lifted the baby into Agnes' outstretched arms.

“It wasnae a bother,” he replied, standing.

“She didn’t fuss?”

He shook his head. “Nay, she’s a bonny lassie.”

“Good. I am glad.” Agnes smiled at him, but found no smile in return.

What would it take to bring some cheer to him? She wondered as she shifted Lizzy into a more comfortable position.

“Continue up those stairs if yer legs arenae about to buckle,” he said.

“Pardon?” she rasped, a faint flutter in her stomach.

He tilted his chin toward the staircase at the opposite end of the hallway. “Yer rooms should be ready by now.” He paused, a flicker of something in those lupine eyes. “But remember, I daenae want to see the lassie at dinner tonight. I’m nae changin’ me language to speak about the rules, nae for delicate ears.”

With that, he walked away, disappearing down the stairwell that she had just struggled up.

Part of her wanted to follow, to ask him to tell her now and get it over with, but that would have meant another marathon descent that her legs weren’t in any condition to manage.

She would be lucky if she even made it up the stairs to wherever Iona was.

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