Page 65 of Highland Renegade
“What I meant was, the conversation was quite cordial,” Emily said.
Juliana nodded. “Rory actually did not insult me, either.”
“Maybe if you treated him nicer, he would stop,” Lorelei said.
“Me?” Juliana frowned at her sister. “It is not I who starts the arguments.”
“That is debatable.” Emily smiled to take the sting off her words. “It seems you and Rory are like oil and water. But,” she added before Juliana could argue withher, “tonight went very well. Even Devon acted civilly.”
“Do you think he will ever come around to accepting us?” Lorelei asked.
“I hope so,” Emily answered. “But he has had some very bad experiences with the English.”
“But he should not blameus,” Juliana retorted. “We—you—are nothing like his stepmother, who sounds like she was a hoyden.”
“And we certainly are not dragoons.” Lorelei drew her brows together. “Although I am sorry for what happened to him.”
“So am I.” Emily had told her sisters what Ian had relayed to her. “All we can do is be kind and hope Devon will eventually realize we are who we are.”
“But for now”—Lorelei changed the subject—“can we discuss the ball? I am so excited!”
Juliana somehow refrained from looking heavenward again and Emily sighed inwardly, even as for the next half hour they indulged their sister in conversation about all sorts of speculation about a Scottish ball.
Emily was tired when she finally retired to her bedchamber. Thankfully, one of the maids had been in to turn the sheets down and a small fire burned in the brazier. She saw this as a small step in her goal to being accepted by the MacGregors. When she and her sisters had first arrived, none of the servants had attended them. Now, Maggie answered questions in full sentences and Hamish even smiled on occasion.
She noticed then that a glass of mulled wine had been set on the bedside stand, along with a small plate of marzipan squares. Emily smiled. That was probably Fiona’s doing, since she’d made known she loved marzipan. She’d stayed downstairs to talk to Ian and probably brought this up before she went to bed.
Quickly, Emily took care of her ablutions, donned her night rail, and slipped between the sheets. There was nothing quite as decadent as sipping wine and eating dessert in bed. She took several sips of the strong-tasting wine. Perhaps a bit too much apple cider had been added, but it helped to counter the sweet marzipan.
Mmmm. The tastes of both were intense. In a few minutes she was having difficulty keeping her eyes open. She must be more tired than she thought…as the glass slipped from her hand.
Chapter Eighteen
“Is your sister still abed?” Ian asked Juliana and Lorelei the next morning as he entered the dining room to break his fast. Normally, he’d take the morning meal in the Great Hall with the rest of the clansmen, but he’d overslept, having been awake most of the night thinking about the conversation he’d had with his brothers and uncles. Emily was usually an early riser, so he’d expected to find her here.
Juliana shook her head. “I have not seen her this morning.”
“She is probably with Fiona on the battlements,” Lorelei said. “They both like to watch the sun rise.”
Juliana frowned. “I saw Fiona a few minutes ago walking toward the stables. Emily was not with her.”
“Besides, the sun has been up for well over an hour.” Ian felt some apprehension. “Mayhap one of ye should go and check on her.”
Lorelei’s eyes widened. “You think something may have happened to her?”
He didn’t want to alarm the ladies, but an increasing sense of uneasiness was nagging at him. “She is probably just tired and still sleeping but, since she said she didna need a maid to wake her, we should check.”
Juliana stared at him for a moment, then put her napkin down and stood. “Come along, Lorelei.”
“But I have not finished eating…”
“You can finish later.” She gave Ian a measured look, then tugged at her sister’s chair. “How many times have we been chastised for sleeping late? We will have something to hold over her now.”
Lorelei grinned at that. “True.”
Ian fidgeted in his chair as the two left the room, then decided to follow them. He was halfway to the door when he heard a blood-curdling scream. He bolted down the hallway and up the stairs as though the hounds of hell were on his heels.
Lorelei was slumped on the floor outside Emily’s bedchamber, holding her head in her hands. “I think she is dead!”
