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She had supposed there would be. “Yes, my lord?”
“You never ride alone. Always with me, or Aiden, or one of my men to lead your mount.”
It would never occur to her to do otherwise. She nodded, happy to agree.
“And you remain within sight of the keep.”
“How shall I—”
“I will issue the necessary instructions, and you shall be sure to remind your escort of my orders whenever you go beyond these walls. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly clear, Laird. And… thank you.”
Chapter Ten
“Ye chose well, lad. She makes a fine lady for Duncleit.” Elspeth plonked herself without ceremony in the empty seat alongside her laird. “How long has it been now?”
“Five months,” Blair replied, his gaze on the slender form of his mistress as she flitted about his hall, her dog at her side. “But she isna my lady.”
Elspeth narrowed her eyes at him and he shifted in his seat. He had learnt as a small boy that it was not usually wise to gainsay the cook. “Nay? Is she not? How would ye describe Lady Roselyn then, exactly?”
Elspeth’s tone remained deceptively even. Blair was not fooled for a moment and wondered if he might be well advised to recall some urgent business requiring his immediate presence elsewhere. Where in God’s holy name was Aiden when he needed the man?
“Laird? If not your lady, what then?” Clearly Elspeth was not ready to drop the matter.
“She was my captive, now she is my mistress.” Even he knew that he sounded both surly and defensive.
“She shares your bed, aye, an’ your hearth. There will be bairns afore long.”
“I expect so,” agreed Blair. He fervently hoped so, but was not about to share that confidence.
“Her children will be your heirs, she will be mother to the next McGregor. Or have I not got the right o’ that?”
He turned to face her, his mood darkening. “Your point, if you please?”
“Ye should marry the lass and put an end tae any speculation.”
He narrowed his eyes at her as irritation sparked. “What speculation? Who here would dare to question my actions? My decisions?”
The loyal servant was unmoved by the sudden flash of temper from the laird. Her gaze never wavered. “None would. An’ everyone. We are your clansmen and women, this concerns us too.”
“There is no ‘this,’” he asserted in an attempt to maintain his authority, such as it was with Elspeth. “Lady Roselyn is my mistress. That is an honourable enough state and I shall take issue with any who dispute that or offer insult to her.” He made as though to rise. He had heard enough.
Elspeth laid her hand on his arm. “Wait,” she commanded. At his fierce glare she added a belated “please.”
Blair knew better than to ignore her. He subsided back into his seat. “Go on, then, if you must. You have something to say so I shall be hearing it no doubt whether I wish to or no.”
“Why will ye no’ marry the lass? Do ye love her or nay?”
There was nothing of the shy and retiring about Elspeth. Normally Blair valued her forthright approach but on this occasion he might have appreciated a little more in the way of diffident reticence. It was not to be. Elspeth settled back to await his response.
“Of course I love her. She kens that well enough.”
“We all ken it. So, I shall ask ye again, why are we not makin’ ready for a Christmas wedding?”
“‘Tis not that simple. Roselyn understands that I shall not wed her and she doesna mind. She is content.”
“Is she? For most women would no’ be? An’ especially not a fine English lady such as she. Ye say that Lady Roselyn is fit tae run yer home an’ birth your bairns but not tae bear the McGregor name? How do ye arrive at such a conclusion, lad?”
