Page 40 of A Virgin for the Icy Highlander
Annoyed, Grace glanced down the table at her friends. Lilian offered a sympathetic look, while Maddie shrugged as if she, too, couldn’t understand what was going on with the two men.
“Would ye like me pheasant leg?” Ellie said abruptly, from Grace’s other side.
For the first time, the child had come down for dinner, and she seemed thrilled to be there, in the company of her new friends.
“Don’t you want it?” Grace asked, smiling at the sight of Ellie’s full plate.
The little girl had certainly taken far more than she could possibly eat.
“It’s the best bit,” Ellie replied. “That’s why ye should have it.”
Grace’s heart swelled. “I couldn’t do that. If it’s the best bit, thenyoumust have it.” She was reminded of the small trinkets she had bought at the market. “Ah, that reminds me, we ladies have a few things for you and Snowflake.”
“Ye do?” The little girl looked shocked, confusion creating a line between her eyebrows. “What for? It’s nae me birthday.”
Grace chuckled. “Because you are the very best lassie, and the very best lassie deserves gifts for no reason at all.”
“I dinnae think that’s right,” Ellie murmured shyly. Her cheeks turned a cute shade of pink.
Gesturing to Maddie, who had the gifts in her beloved satchel, Grace nodded emphatically. “It is entirely right, Ellie. I wouldn’t lie to you. Sometimes, a person deserves a gift for no reason at all, and today, that person is you.”
“We thought it might be lovely to add to your collection,” Lilian said, taking the wrapped package from Maddie and passing it down the line to Grace, who handed it to Ellie.
“But if you don’t like it, I’m sure we can find another use for it,” Grace said, hoping to relieve any pressure Ellie might have felt to pretend.
I shouldn’t worry; she will undoubtedly tell us if she hates it.
She smirked while Ellie slowly began to peel away the brown paper.
“A cat!” Ellie shrieked. “It has wings!”
Grace nodded, smiling. “A butterfly-cat.”
The cat was a carved wooden figure, painstakingly crafted and painted white, while the wings had come from a weaver who did extraordinary things with yarn. They were supposed to be a decoration for a doll, or so the weaver had said, but Grace had immediately thought of creating the butterfly-cat of Ellie’s dreams. Two bits of string, tied around the wooden carving, had made that dream come true.
“And a mouse!” Ellie wiggled in her seat, her eyes bright with glee as her smile grew wider than Grace had ever seen it.
The mouse was actually another creation that had sprung from the minds of the three women. They’d purchased a small ball of grey wool, sewn some black eyes onto it, and added in a bit of string for a tail, which also doubled as something to pull the mouse along for the kitten’s entertainment.
“That is for Snowflake,” Lilian said proudly, since she had been the one to put the mouse together.
Ellie shot up from her seat, holding the winged cat to her chest while she pulled the mouse with the other hand. From beneath the table, a blur of white shot across the flagstones. Tiny claws scraped and skidded on the floor as the kitten chased the mouse.
Laughter filled the air. Grace and her friends wore the same fond, happy expressions as they watched Ellie run around the room, with the kitten in hot pursuit. When Snowflake finallypounced, snaring the mouse between its claws, all three women applauded… and Grace finally caught Hunter’s attention.
“She should be eatin’ her dinner, nae playin’,” he said gruffly.
“She is working up an appetite by playing,” Grace replied, wondering what sort of berries the cooks had put into the dinner to make him so sour this evening.
Hunter shrugged and returned to his conversation, his behavior reminding her a little too much of her father’s.
When she was little, she had done everything to try and retain her father’s attention for even a few minutes, but he had never been interested. Unless it was something his precious son was doing,thenhe would stop what he was doing to watch and admire.
It had made her naughtier, and she had misbehaved often as a result, figuring that at least getting shouted at by him was better than being ignored.
She was about to tell Hunter as much, compelled to scold him for not paying attention to his daughter, when the doors squealed open. Her head whipped around, Ellie halted her playing, and the other two ladies twisted around. Both men looked up in confusion.
A maid entered, bowing her head. “Forgive the interruption, M’Laird. Laird Muir has arrived.” She paused. “Shall I send him to?—”
