Page 11 of Sinbound to the Highlander
Evan privately disagreed; those who handled his kitchen at home did fine without any foreign influence, but he feigned interest in what was before him, just to appease her, “Tell me again, what food is which?”
Miss Milleson giggled and began on a light monologue of which food was which, and what made it. The tiny utensils provided for them to eat with were dwarfed in his hand, and he felt that he was going to be sick after eating all these sweet things.
“I need water,” he said abruptly, while swallowing over the thickness in his throat.
Instantly, Miss Milleson stopped her chatter and said, “Of course.”
She called for a servant who came in quickly. Dismissively, she ordered the woman, “Bring us a pitcher of cooled water, and some napkins.”
Noting how she had not even looked at the servant, Evan felt more disturbed. When the woman was gone, he asked, “Do ye ken, who that woman is?”
Miss Milleson waved, “Nay. If I barely remember my lady maids’ names, I’d be hard pressed to ken everyone who serves here. Why? Do ye ken any of yers?”
“I ken a good number of them by name, aye,” he replied.
She looked genuinely confused, and it was her honest confusion about why he would care to know a servant’s name, that had his stomach in uneasy knots.
“Why?” she asked.
Evan swallowed over his disappointment. She was smart but had little compassion for those around her.
Mayhap it’s somethin’ we can train out of her?
“Because it helps to gain their loyalty,” he replied.
The servant woman came back and held the pitcher until Miss Milleson permitted her to pour. She filled both goblets, and Evan took his, grateful that he could wash away the stickiness in his mouth.
Miss Milleson—did not.
She slammed her goblet down and, in an icy voice, said, “I said cool water; this is tepid and nearly warm. Have ye nay sense? This is revoltin’. Get us some cool water, and I’ll have Faither speak to ye after this. Leave us and come back with the right thing!”
Evan sat his goblet down, fully repulsed at her unwarranted anger, but when she added to her unkind words, he knew he had to leave.
Miss Milleson huffed, “Ye shouldnae have heard that, but honestly, these people need to learn how to do things right. Sometimes I wonder if they have any sense at all.”
His stomach flipped. Pushing the goblet away, he stood, “I must apologize, Miss Milleson, but I have to leave again. All this was lovely, but I just remembered somethin’ I had not taken care of before I came here.”
Her face contorted in disappointment and fear, then sorrow, “Are ye sure ye have to leave?”
Resolvedly, he nodded, “I apologize again, but I must go. Please, apologize to yer Maither for me.”
She sagged back in her seat, with the same petulant look in her face. Evan turned to the door when he heard her sullen voice call at his back, “Safe journey, I suppose.”
He took the stairs quickly and left the castle without any interruptions. His horse was sent for and arrived quickly, saddled, and ready to ride. He swung into the saddle and sped off, feeling a dense ball of disappointment rest on his chest.
Miss Milleson was a child in a woman’s body. Her parents had done her a severe disservice in rearing her so selfishly and shallowly. She might make a pretty wife, but her personality was horrid. Evan aimed his horse toward his home, but at a crossroads, he turned his horse off at a turn to wander through the countryside.
His stomach was upset, and his mind completely retracted from pretty Miss Milleson. And a line of thought was a loop through his mind.
I’ve made the worst mistake of me life.I cannae marry her.
But how could he tell that to her, her parents, and his mother after he had pledged his commitment?
