Page 37 of Stealing Sophie
But this morning, her head was more clear, and she caught her breath, thinking of last night. Should she truly stay? Was MacPherson determined about the marriage?
By the time sparks were snapping, Sophie heard the door latch click. Startled, she turned to see Connor MacPherson entering the room. She got to her feet, heart thumping.
“Latha math dhut fhèin,” he murmured. He carried a tray with a blue and white china pot and teacups, which he set on the little inlaid table.
“Good morning to you as well, Mr. MacPherson.” She was not sure how to address him. Connor? Last night she had called him that...she thought so, anyway.
“I brought your tea, a bit late. But a promise kept.” He smiled, thin and uncertain.
“Thank you, it is lovely. Will you have some?” She went to the table to pour a cup of steaming, fragrant tea. When she offered the cup to him, he hesitated, then took it.
“Did I hear you walking through the castle a little while ago?” he asked.
“I heard a sound, so I went looking for it.” She sipped the hot tea, a China blend. She closed her eyes, savoring. “This is very good. Thank you.”
“Be careful where you wander here. Some floors and steps are unstable. What did you hear?”
“Music. Strange, beautiful music.”
“Perhaps it was one of the ghosts.” He sipped a little tea, watching her.
She shuddered. “Did you hear it too? Where were you just now?”
“Patrolling the castle, as I often do. I did not see any ghosts. Headache?” he added, as she rubbed her brow. She nodded.
“A little. The tea will help. And it is nicely hot. It is quite cold this morning.”
“Early spring,” he said. “And the castle is falling apart, so there are many drafts. It is nearly impossible to keep warm here. Keeping to one room, or your bed, is sometimes the best way to keep warm. Get under the covers,” he suggested. “Enjoy your tea there. No need to be up and about now.”
“And you?” Heart quickening, she wondered if he meant to come into bed with her. Last night was one matter. She was quite sure what she wanted to happen now.
“I do not sleep much, by habit. And I have matters to see to this morning.”
“Matters of thieving and bride-stealing?”
He huffed. “I think you are the only bride I will ever steal, madam.”
“Let us hope so.” She wrinkled her nose. He chuckled.
He set down his cup. “I must head out, but Mary Murray and her son will soon be here. I will remind you that you must not leave the castle grounds. It is for your safety—Sir Henry may have sent men out to look for you. Mary will make sure you are comfortable. If you want for anything, ask, and she will see to it.”
She tipped her head. “The key to the gate? A horse?”
He came closer, size imposing, his gaze keen. “More tea, or some food. Clean clothing. A bath.”
Sighing, she relented. “Those would be lovely. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me so often. I have done little to earn your gratitude.”
“You have shown me courtesy and...kindness, even if you are a brigand.” She shivered again, and her teacup rattled in its saucer.
He frowned. “You are cold, lass. Go on, back to bed with you, Kate.”
A chill went down her spine. She looked up at him. “I am not Kate.”
Lifting the tray, he paused, staring at her.
