Page 32 of A Highland Bride Taken
If the Laird insisted on having such a marriage, then she would do the same. She hadn’t come with the intention to serve a husband, let alone love one, so she would put all her focus on raising the boys.
Even if it left her lonely, soon all her time would be filled with caring for the bairns, and she wouldn’t even think too much about the man who erased all rational thought with a mere glance.
She would only have to train her body to be calm when she had no choice but to be in his presence, as she had promised she would help him bond with the boys.
For now, her challenge would be trying to fall asleep with the heat simmering in her blood and the throbbing between her legs.
13
“The Laird and his men like to have their meals at regular times, and yer job is to ensure that happens as well as running the castle and ensuring that we dinnae starve in winter,” Missus Norah went on, as she had since their morning lesson began. “The Laird and I have seen to this, but now that ye are here, ye’re expected to relieve him of this burden.”
Who will relieve me of mine?
Mabel hadn’t expected to start her lessons so soon or to be educated by the woman who had had a judgmental look on her face ever since she had slept in. To think she had assumed her days would be spent caring for the bairns only…
She suppressed a sigh before the housekeeper could notice and tell her again that it was unbecoming of a lady to sigh.
She had hoped the incident with the bairns was only because she was still an outsider, but Missus Norah had made it clear that it would be a while before she earned her trust.
Not that Mabel could blame the woman.
The lessons had only shown her the many ways she was lacking, and while she hoped to learn, she dreaded that she wouldn’t be able to learn as soon as she needed to.
She hadn’t needed to help with the running of MacLennan Castle, as her mother and Scarlett had seen to it rather effectively. She had received training, but with the Laird’s large household, it was almost insufficient.
She grew to appreciate his large household with the lectures, but she also started dreading it. She had agreed to marry the Laird because of the bairns, but she had forgotten the other responsibilities that came with being the lady of a clan.
She suspected it was her constant worry about the boys that had her unable to focus on her lessons, but it was to be expected. She hadn’t been able to see them much at the wedding, and she worried that, now that her parents had left, there would be no one else able to efficiently care for them as they had.
“We will proceed to yer embroidery lessons, but ye shall wait here while I fetch the materials,” Missus Norah instructed.
Mabel’s heart soared with delight as the housekeeper scurried off, seeing her exit as an opportune moment to make her escape. She kept her steps light as she moved in the opposite direction, trying to find her way to the boys’ chambers.
When she stood outside the doors, she heaved a long sigh, putting her dismay at her failure in the day’s lesson behind her. She didn’t want to burden the boys with her grief.
Their matching smiles were a balm to her grieving heart, so she rushed to them, placing kisses on their hair.
“How are ye today?” she asked, elated.
She wished they would greet her more effusively, but she took their acceptance of her caresses as a win. She was overjoyed at the progress she was making with them.
They began to tell her about their day, and she was grateful to hear that they had eaten their meals. She wished they had more activities to fill their time with, but until she proved herself capable of running Muir Castle, she would not be able to begin their education.
“Yer name is familiar,” Ollie said finally.
“Me name?” she asked with a smile.
“Aye. Me ma told us about ye.”
They had said that before, but perhaps they wanted a better explanation as to how. She figured it would help them trust her better.
“Indeed? I am glad, then, because I am yer godmaither,” she explained. “I ken all about ye because yer maither told me about ye in her letters. I saw ye only once at yer baptism, but I havenae been able to visit ever since.”
She had hoped the news would cheer them up, but their mood plummeted at her casual mention of their mother. She bit her lip, inwardly chiding herself for her insensitivity, and tried to think up a way to cheer them up.
Suddenly, she bounced in her seat.
“How about we play a game?” she suggested. “Have ye been to the gardens?”
