Page 28 of The Highlander's Auctioned Bride
He looked up as there was a rapid knock at the door. Harris entered, closing it behind him and looking contrite.
“Ye dinnae want to interact with folk on yer own weddin’ day?” he asked looking over the mountain of paper scattered over James’s desk.
“Has me bride emerged?”
“Aye, and her faither is out there and is anxious to speak with ye,” Harris frowned, opening his mouth as though to say more and then closing it again.
“Have ye spoken to the lass at all since the contest? It may help.”
“Ye are one to talk,” James said, giving Harris a sideways look.
To his relief, Harris chuckled. “That’s different, Jean is me friend.”
“She wants to be yerfriendas much as I want to muck out the stables.”
Harris sighed. “Ye’re changin’ the subject.”
James sighed. “Nae. I havenae spoken to her. Well, I argued with her over some bannocks at one o’clock in the mornin’, does that count?” Harris raised his eyebrows. “There was nae impropriety, she was hungry.”
“Aye, I’ll bet,” Harris muttered.
At his words, James felt the tension in his chest release suddenly, as though he had been waiting for some levity to push him out of his dark mood and he found himself laughing.
“Ye are a dobber.”
Harris grinned. “That’s why ye keep me about. So then, what did ye say to the lass?”
“I told her to get back to her room and get some sleep.”
“So ye met by accident at the dead of night, sent her to her room, and now ye’re wonderin’ why she doesnae wish to speak to ye?”
“I talked to her,” James protested.
“Yeorderedher. There’s a difference.”
“She doesnae want a husband any more than I want a wife. The less we see each other the better.”
“I dinnae understand why ye insist that yer duty and yer wife dinnae go hand in hand,” Harris exclaimed, gesturing to the papers on the desk.
“Women dinnae have a place in clan business. She’ll remain in the castle where I can keep an eye on her, and I’ll continue as before.”
Harris stroked his beard and sighed. “It is yer weddin’ day, m’laird. Ye can have a single day away from yer letters.”
James rubbed a hand over his forehead and looked at his friend, at the deep worry in his expression. He was surprised to realize he felt guilty for how he had treated Maisie. He had commanded her to leave or beg him for his attention, yet he had not spoken to her for days.
She is a newly betrothed woman from a small Scottish town, the daughter of a tradesman and unaccustomed to this life. I’m a brute for abandoning her.
Perhaps Harris is right. One day cannae hurt.
He pushed up from his desk and headed for the door.
“Where’re ye goin’?” Harris asked, following after.
“To see me wife.”
CHAPTER 11
Maisie was overwhelmedby the crowd gathered for the wedding.
