Page 48 of The Highlander's Auctioned Bride
“We shall, thank ye, Harris,” Maisie replied.
They made their way out of the castle and Maisie kept quiet until they had walked far enough that their conversation would not be overhead.
“He clearly admires ye.”
“Yes, m’lady,” Jean said wistfully, surprising her. “I adore him, and he kens it.” Maisie laughed at her exasperated tone. “I have made it so plain that I would welcome his advances, yet he keeps so polite about me, I dinnae ken what to do.”
“Och, I am sure he is bidin’ his time. Perhaps we can injure ye somehow on the way into town, and he will have to come and collect ye gallantly from a ditch and claim yer heart.”
Jean let out a sharp squeal of laughter. “M’lady!”
Maisie chuckled, feeling the tension loosen from her body. She had not laughed so freely for many days.
“I am only jestin’,” she conceded. “But I can see the way he looked at ye.”
Jean sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if he will ever make his feelin’s kent.”
“Well, perhaps there is a reason for the delay. If we havenae had any movement by the end of the month I will pursue him and find out.”
Jean giggled prettily as she shook her head. “Ye are mad, m’lady, but I thank ye.”
They continued on their way in companionable silence, walking down the long winding path toward the sights and sounds of the town.
As they reached the outskirts, Maisie was struck by how quaint it was. There were many flowers outside doorways, with smart, clean streets and cobbled stone stretching as far as the eye could see.
She was charmed by it, and her spirits were lifted even further by the thought that this was her local town.
They received many curious glances and some gestures of welcome as they walked through the streets. A great number of these people had probably been in the crowd around her at her wedding. Maisie was rather taken aback by how many people seemed to know her.
She was happy when they were inside the musty shelves of the bookshop, and she could be away from the eyes of strangers for a little time.
She knew exactly what she was looking for and chose not to ask the clerk, happy to wander the shelves with Jean walking slowly behind her.
Finally, she gave a quiet cry of happiness as she found the complete works of Shakespeare on one of the shelves and took it down. She would enjoy adding to the library over the years, even if she did nothing else helpful in the castle.
Jean cleared her throat.
“Um…M’lady, that has already been ordered.”
Maisie shook her head. “Nae, I only found it missing yesterday.”
“Aye, m’lady, I heard Laird MacLennan asking Mrs. Murray to ensure that all the works of Shakespeare were added tothe library yesterday. He was quite adamant; she could not understand where he had suddenly got the idea from.” Jean looked at her curiously. “Did ye ask him?”
Maisie looked down at the book, thinking of their fiery exchange and her remonstrations about the lack of variety in the library.
James ordered them straight away?
She was oddly touched by the gesture. It did not feel like a dress or a bouquet of flowers. This felt like a man wanting his wife to have the things she liked in her home, and something warm bloomed through her chest as she thought of it.
“Och,” she said quietly. “Well then, I shall look for somethin’ else. Perhaps we can find ye a book of love poems for yer man,” she teased, and Jean snorted.
“Ye are impossible, m’lady.”
James was exhausted.
He had been forced to call on Laird Abingdon to try and resolve the MacCarthy matter and Abingdon’s solution seemed to be to cast the lot of them out into the wilds.
He alighted from his horse to see Harris on the other side of the courtyard with Islay. Kenzie was hungry, and he ensured shewas tied up beside a bucket of hay before he went to speak to his man-at-arms.
