Page 34 of A Wife for the Highland Wolf
Orders given, Murdoch returned to his own room and dressed in his best kilt, a dress shirt, his formal clan sash, and the torc of his rank. Once he was finished dressing, he returned to collect his son from the maid.
Finn looked up at him, poking at the torc with interest. “Da? Dress nice? Feast?”
“Somethin’ like that. I’m going to invite Miss Lydia to eat with us, and I want to make it a special dinner. Would ye like that?”
“Miss Lyda! Hector!” Murdoch allowed himself a small smile as his son giggled and waved a hand at him.
“Aye. Miss Lydia is Hector’s mistress. Would you like to be the one to ask her to eat with us?”
“Aye!” Finn’s smile was bright and cheerful. Murdoch settled the bairn a little more firmly in his arms and made his way to the door of his former room. He knocked firmly.
A shuffling sound greeted his gesture. He waited a moment, then knocked again, a little more firmly.
The door clicked, then swung open to reveal Lydia dressed in a lightweight and obviously well-worn dress. Her hair was wet, braided back to confine the water to a towel slung over hershoulders. She looked pale and tired. When she saw him a crimson flush spread over her cheeks. “What are ye doin’ here?”
In answer, Murdoch looked at Finn. The wee lad held out his hands with a smile. “Miss Lyda come eat wi’ us? An’ Hector?”
Lydia stared at Murdoch’s son and her mouth quirked up in a slow smile. A small laugh escaped her as she reached out and took Finn into her arms to press a kiss on his forehead. Finn giggled with delight.
Still holding the child, Lydia looked at Murdoch. “Tis nae fair to use so cute a bairn as yer wee lad to sway me.”
“I never said I played fair, Miss Knox. When I enter a game, I play to win.” Murdoch smiled.
Her answering smile was one that mixed sadness and challenge. “And what are ye aimin’ to win, me Laird?”
“Yer presence at dinner, to start with.”
“Ye daenae think I’d break me own rule so soon.” She smirked. “Never mind that I wouldnae want to deny this adorable bairn.” She glanced down at her clothing. “Though I do need to change before I join ye.”
“We’ll wait for ye.” Murdoch took Finn into his arms, then turned to make his way back to his rooms.
Lydia was surprised that Murdoch had sought her out. From the way he’d seemed to avoid talking about anything personal or of importance, she’d expected he’d be relieved if she failed show up for their evening meal. Apparently she’d been in the wrong on that score.
Lydia inspected the dresses she’d brought with her. With no idea of how things were done in Lochlann Castle, she’d brought every sort of clothing, from old, patched skirts she could wear while tending the garden to formal dresses fit for a feast.
After a moment’s consideration, she pulled out a forest green dress with silver and gold curling vines stitched over it The skirt was cut to allow an underdress to be worn with it, and she chose one that brought out her skin tone and the shine of bluish tints in her dark hair. The dress was simple to put on, with a silken cord that allowed adjustment in the bodice to be form fitting, showing off her endowments to her best advantage. Lydia topped it with a sash-belt in her clan tartan, and a simple necklace that Emma had given her when she came of age. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she made her way to Murdoch’s rooms.
The door was open and she felt a thrill of satisfaction when his eyes widened, and his jaw tightened at the sight of her. Now that she knew what she was looking for, it was easy to read the flash of desire in his eyes. Still, he managed to gather his composure quickly, bowed and pulled out her chair for her.
“Ye look magnificent.” His tone was full of honest admiration, and despite the decisions she’d come to before and during her bath, Lydia couldn’t help but smile at him.
“Ye and Finn are dressed so well, I thought t’would be good to dress accordingly.”
A small smile softened Murdoch’s stern mouth. “Say, rather, ye’ve dressed to outshine both of us poor males.”
“Daenae fret. Yer wit and his innocence will surely make up any possible lack, and the food smells wonderful.”
Murdoch laughed. “Always so bold, me lady. Tis fair refreshing.”
They took their seats while the maid served the food and drink. Mindful of the situation and Finn’s presence, Lydia limited herself to a single goblet of wine with her meal.
They ate in companionable silence, the two of them taking turns to feed Finn, and making the occasional idle comment about the food, or a request for more to drink or to eat.
Finn seemed unaware of the subtle tension between the two adults. He took what he was served and ate most of it with a good appetite, occasionally distracted by Hector’s presence at the base of his chair.
By far the most humorous moment came when Murdoch settled sliced meats and fresh vegetables on his son’s plate, and Finnpromptly tossed a bit of spring onion to the floor. Murdoch reached down to grab it before Hector could. “Ye shouldnae waste food, Finn.”
“No waste.” Finn’s bright eyes were guileless, yet sparkling with mischief. “Feed Hector.”
