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Just who is she?

He frowned, clearing his throat, and moved to his seat, needing to regain control of the situation.

“Have ye come to apply for the position of governess?”

3

“Have ye come to apply for the position of governess?” the Laird asked, seeming irritated.

Governess?

When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Ye dinnae seem old enough, but nay matter. Ye will be tasked with feeding them, grooming them, and tutoring them. Whatever ye may need will be provided within reason. Yer?—”

“Me Laird, I… I believe…” She tried to correct his assumptions, but his cold stare froze her words on her tongue.

“I have had chambers prepared for ye in the same wing as the bairns because I expect ye to be near at all times. Ye will school them in how to write and read, and teach them manners for formal gatherings…”

Mabel shook her head, confused.

Cursed be her inability to speak when she was overwhelmed by nerves. Her heart pounded unsteadily, and her hands shook even as she pictured how her words would sound, coming out of her mouth. A lump formed in her throat, which she struggled and ultimately gave up trying to swallow.

She should have learned that her anxiety would never leave her by now, so all she could do was dance to the tune of whatever was decided for her.

She wished she could have voiced her thoughts to the Laird, but with the fear coursing through her veins, all she could do was allow him to speak. She could understand his reasons for hiring a governess for the children, and she appreciated the thoughtfulness behind it, but there was no reason for him to think she was one. For starters, she wasn’t old enough to be considered a spinster or widow, and her garb was nothing of the sort.

Surely his sense of deduction couldn’t be so lacking.

“Me Laird, ye are mistaken. I?—”

“Forgive the interruption, Me Laird,” a maid said, stepping into the room.

“What is it?” the Laird asked sharply.

“Missus Norah asked me to report that the bairns have refused food again,” the maid began. “She is worried they might nae last the night. ‘Tis been too long since they’ve last eaten.”

Mabel’s eyes shot up at that.

They arenae eating?

She tried not to let her worry show, but she wanted to see the children even more than she did before. Anxiety or not, she was going to speak her mind as loudly as she could, even if the effort killed her.

“Well, it seems ye couldnae have chosen a more auspicious moment,” the Laird said, rising from his seat. “Ye will prove yer competence by feeding the boys now. Do ye accept?”

She nodded hastily, remembering that if she appeared too eager, he would grow suspicious. She could explain the situation properly later, but the important thing was to ensure that she at least saw the children alive and well and unharmed.

The Laird eyed her warily before leading the way to their chambers, and her heart pounded all the while.

She tried not to let her eyes wander, but the Laird cut such a fine figure in his clan’s colors as he led her to the boys’ chambers. His thighs were defined in his trews. She had never much cared for backsides, but his looked firm, drawing wanton heat to her cheeks.

To think they were going to see children…

He turned to her briefly, causing her to straighten and try for a beatific look, but she saw a suspicious eyebrow rise and hoped he didn’t catch her.

When Mabel stood before the boys, she was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to cry. They looked worse than she had expected, but they were every bit as beautiful as Layla had described in the letters. The last time she had seen them had been at their baptism, and they had been such beautiful babes.

She had taken great risk to sneak out of MacLennan Castle and attend, but seeing the squirming babes in their mother’s arms had been sufficient reward for the danger she had faced and the scolding she had received after missing most of the dinner with Clan Douglas. She had promised to love them as her own, and now that she had seen them, she would not leave them again.

She looked them over, taking in how much they had grown over the past five years. Their dark hair was curly and wild, and they had the same stubborn jaw as their uncle. But they had their mother’s eyes, a soft brown that drew one in.