Page 18 of The Mad Highlander
His hands ached from smashing the walls, yet his bruised skin was of little concern to him as he wondered if anything his friend had said was true. Did he really deserve to be happy? If he did, he would not find it through a lass.
Cayden looked toward the door as footsteps hurried down the corridor. The council meeting was over, and everyone had begun to leave. He hadn’t intended for things to get out of hand. Yet now he was faced with more than just one problem.
Rescuing Ashton was hard enough, yet it was nearly impossible if his clan wasn’t on his side.
8
Iris found herself settling into her new home after just a few short days. The sprawling gardens, elegant architecture, and luxurious furnishings had impressed her. However, there was one thing that continued to nibble at her bones, Cayden.
Despite being his bride-to-be, he had done little to speak to her or even share a meal. Cayden appeared disinterested in getting to know her and would only approach her occasionally to inquire about her comfort or settling in. This lack of attention was beginning to weigh heavily on Iris. She understood that their marriage had been arranged against her will, but that didn’t excuse him from getting to know her.
On top of her irritation with Cayden, she still hadn’t heard anything about her brother or what his plans for getting him back were. Their agreement for a marriage of convenience would be for nothing if Ashton was’t retrieved.
Her only source of sanity amidst all the problems had been Robyn and Margot who never failed to provide an excuse for Cayden.
Irritated by the situation that had left her feeling helpless, she made her way downstairs, hoping to see Cayden at the table.
Her hopes sank when she entered the dining hall to find Margot and Robyn and no sight of Cayden. Turning to a passing maid, Iris forced a smile. “Where is the Laird this evening?”
The girl seemed panicked but quickly recovered and curtsied. “In his study, Me Lady.”
“I see, an’ is he busy with an important meeting or any kind of clan discussions.” She raised her eyebrows in question, determined to put an end to how things were developing.
“Nae, Me Lady, nae that I am aware of,” the maid replied. “Laird of McLaren has just left, and that was his last visitor for the evening. There is naebody with the Laird at present.”
Margot and Robyn exchanged confused glances, remaining silent when Iris nodded. The table had been set for four people, and Iris wasn’t about to let things slide.
“Very well, since the Laird is too busy to dine with us this evening, then I shall be dining with him. Have one of the other maids help ye, an’ take the two places that have been set for me an’ the Laird up to his study along with a tray of food.”
The maid glanced nervously in Margot’s direction, waiting for the older woman to give her some kind of indication that she should listen to Iris.
“That is if the Laird’s maither doesnae object, of course.” Iris placed her hands on her hips and turned to Margot with a questioning smile. She wanted to make a point to her husband-to-be, yet she didn’t want to step on any toes and jeopardize the friendships she had made.
Lifting her hands in the air, Margot made a gesture of surrender. “I dinnae object, Cayden forbade us from interfering in his affairs, so ye willnae hear any objections from me.”
Robyn sniggered, looking away when her mother glared at her.
“Would ye mind doing that for me?” Iris turned back to the maid, feeling encouraged when Margot hadn’t objected. It was nice to know that the ladies were on her side, even if the mischievous glint in Robyn’s eyes had concerned her a little.
“Aye, Me Lady,” the maid sprang into action and hurried to gather all the things.
“Well, something had to change sooner or later.” Robyn bit on her lips reaching for an apple.
“Ye be quiet, an’ dinnae get involved.” Margot narrowed her eyes at her daughter, yet failed to hide her amusement as she carried on eating.
Iris left the dining hall, determined to get some answers from the Laird even if she had to force them out of him.
Minutes passed before she found herself waiting at the study door, two maids poised at her sides with trays of cutlery and food. Raising her hand to knock, Iris noticed the flickering light that poured out from the crack beneath the study door. The only discernable sound coming from the room was the gentle scraping of a quill against parchment.
She took a deep breath and knocked.
“Who is it?” Cayden’s deep voice carried through the wood.
“I have food; can I come in?” she asked, her voice trembling with nervousness and anticipation. The idea had seemed like a good one at the time, yet she hadn’t anticipated how nervous she would be when it came to execution.
The scratching ceased. “Iris?” Cayden sounded more than just a little confused.
Her heart pounded furiously as she worked up the courage to respond. “’Tis me,” Iris replied and pushed the door until the heavy oak gave way beneath the tips of her fingers.
