Page 24 of The Highlander's Auctioned Bride
She woke from fitful dreams of James’s huge torso, his thick fingers hovering either side of her face, his lips whispering against her cheek. And she took her meals alone, with no sign of the laird anywhere. She began to get a glimpse of what her life inside the castle would be like.
A single welcome discovery came in the form of the library, which was magnificent! The walls were full of books stretching up to the high ceilings—more books than Maisie had ever seen in all her life.
Her days were made immeasurably more enjoyable as she curled up in one of the armchairs with a thick tome on the history of Greece or a complicated herbal treatise. Jean brought her tea, and she could spend a few happy minutes immersed in the past, not having to think of the present. Or worse, the future.
Her tranquility was shattered one morning, when Mrs. Murray discovered her after breakfast for her wedding dress fitting.
The seamstress had brought a variety of fabrics for her to choose from and, despite herself, Maisie felt excitement flutter in her chest. She had always enjoyed shopping, and throughout her life, her father had made up for his frequent absences by buying her dresses from all over the world.
The satin displayed before her was exceedingly fine, and Maisie saw a glimmer of brocade and even a few precious lengths of silk. It was quite an overwhelming array. As she looked over the colors a dark blue caught her eye.
“Och, that’ll look bonnie with yer eyes, Miss Brown,” Mrs. Murray said enthusiastically.
Maisie tried a few gowns before she found the right fit. A wide skirt and tight waist, with long elegant sleeves. She had never felt so well-dressed. Her father’s gifts were always of the best quality, but the laird had a different type of wealth behind him. The dress she chose was embroidered and beaded with roses all over.
“It is beautiful,” she said to the seamstress.
Mrs. Murray smiled. “Doesnae she look bonnie?”
“Aye, that she does,” the seamstress said, her eyes twinkling. “We can make this up in the fabric ye chose, m’lady.”
It felt mundane to return to her other dress, but at least that meant she could get back to her reading.
Only, she could not, for as soon as the fitting had ended she was asked her opinion about food, cake, and decorations.
Every discussion included what Laird MacLennan might want. He seemed to be at the forefront of everyone’s minds, and yet Maisie could not have a single conversation with the man himself. Since their altercation in the study, she had hardly seen him. Every time she asked where the laird might be, he was ‘out with his clan’.
She wasn’t sure if she resented him for not trying harder or if she was thankful for the space. Either way, she was still angry with him for that display in his study and his arrogant assumption she would everbeghim to touch her.
At last, after days of discourse with the cook, dress fittings, and hiding in the library, the week was finally over.
Maisie should have been relieved, but instead, she was finding it impossible to sleep. She thought she had adjusted to the castle admirably given the circumstances, but the prospect of the wedding and all that might follow was keeping her awake.
Maisie tossed and turned, her mind tormented by thoughts of her life as she had known it coming to an end. She would no longer be a dutiful daughter with at least the illusion of freedom; she would now be bound to James MacLennanforever.
She grunted and pushed the covers back from her bed. Back at home, she always snacked on spare bannocks and honey when she could not sleep; maybe that could be her remedy now, too.
She had acquainted herself with the castle's layout during the week, so she had no trouble finding the kitchen, even in the dark. The embers burned in the fireplace, giving the air a lingering smokey warmth. It smelled of mince pies, roast pork, and all the bread they had been baking in preparation for tomorrow. At least the wedding feast would be delicious, even if the rest of the event was miserable.
Maisie spotted a covered basket of bannocks and made for it, her stomach growling loudly. She searched the cupboards for a side plate and placed some bannocks on it before retrieving a knife and a jar of honey.
She brought her small feast to the steps just inside the kitchen door, feeling strangely contented in the dusky darkness all about her. It brought back memories of her childhood when she would sneak downstairs for sweets.
She was halfway through her first bannock when heavy footsteps sounded behind her. She turned to find MacLennan standing behind her, looking at her in confusion.
“Ye shouldnae be up,” he said, glowering at her. There was very little light and his huge frame looked even larger in the darkness.
“Yeare up,” she said evenly, taking another bite of her bannock, trying to ignore the fact that his looming presence wasmaking her stomach flutter with nerves. This was the longest conversation they’d had all week.
“Ye should be sleepin’,” James continued, taking a step forward. “Go back to yer chambers.”
“I am hungry,” she said, taking a big bite of her bannock.
“It’s after midnight.”
“Aye, and I cannae sleep, what’s yer reason for sneakin’ about in the kitchens after dark?”
“This ismecastle. I can dae as I like.”
