Page 72 of How to Be a Scottish Mistress

As the strained silence grated, the need to make conversation for the sake of courtesy—and Fiona’s sanity—grew stronger. And still she remained at a loss for words.

Aileen, however, suffered no such ailment. She chattered cheerfully about her journey and the various things she was discovering about the castle and its inhabitants, never seeming to notice, or much care, that Fiona remained silent.

When she finally paused to come up for air, Aileen began meandering down the rows of neatly tended herbs, calling out the names of those she knew. There was a restless quality to her movements that was unnerving. A strange feeling skittered through Fiona’s chest. She was just about to make her excuses and leave when Aileen spoke.

“Everyone has been very kind and welcoming, but I was hoping that the earl and I would have a chance to spend more time together.”

The flutter in Fiona’s chest tightened. “He’s a busy man.”

“I know. And I applaud his tireless sense of duty. ’Tis but one of the many things I admire about him.” Aileen leaned down and plucked the top of a mint plant, crushing the fragrant leaves between her fingers. “Still, I know I can learn some things, if ye help me.”

Fiona forced back a wave of panic. “I don’t know what I can do.”

“Come now, dinnae be coy. Ye have been a guest here fer a few months. Ye must have learned something of his character. Of his likes and dislikes. Though I would prefer to hear them from his own lips, I am a practical woman. If the earl cannae spend time with me, then I must learn about him from others. After all, ’tis my duty as his wife to know how to please him.”

Merciful Lord, it hurt!Fiona’s chest felt so tight it was difficult to breathe. She could not discuss Gavin’s likes and dislikes with his future bride. She could not!

“I am uncertain what you want of me.”

“Ye’re a widow. As a woman of experience, I was hoping that ye’d have some words of wisdom to impart. Advice that would aid me in becoming a good, proper wife.” Aileen brought the crushed mint leaves to her nose and sniffed. “My father says that a husband’s word is law, his will is implacable. A mere wife cannae force him to do anything. Do ye believe that to be true?”

“No,” Fiona answered honestly.

“Neither do I.” Aileen smiled. “I think with a clever approach, a wife can get her husband to do just about anything. I want ye to help me understand the right approach with the earl.”

Fiona lifted her head sharply. Was this a trap? A way to get her to acknowledge her relationship—her past relationship—with Gavin? But Aileen’s expression was open, honest. A facade? Or was she truly that young and naive?

“I fear I have little specific knowledge to impart. I am merely a guest here. The earl does not share his confidences with me, Aileen.”

“But he speaks so highly of ye. And with great fondness.”

“He was a good friend to my husband, and as such, has shown kindness toward me and my son.” Fiona’s throat nearly choked as she added, “Nothing more.”

Realizing she was frowning, Fiona turned away. Aimlessly, she bent down and plucked a weed from the row of sage. For whatever strange reason, Aileen was drawn to her and Fiona knew it would only be a matter of time before the younger woman learned the truth.

Hopefully, Fiona would be long gone when that occurred. But in the meantime she needed a new topic of conversation—quickly! “Tell me, Aileen, was your journey here an arduous one?”

“Not especially. But we did have a few adventures.”

“Really?”

“Oh, indeed.”

Fiona lifted her brow in obvious interest. It was the only encouragement Aileen needed to settle down on a stone bench and launch into her tale.

Fiona smiled with relief. In this instance Aileen was very much like any other young woman—she enjoyed talking about herself. With only the occasional prompt necessary, Fiona kept Aileen happily chattering, safely steering the topic away from the earl.

By the time the noon bell rang, Fiona was surprised to discover how quickly the time had passed. Aileen had a natural talent for storytelling and a wry sense of humor that was both refreshing and engaging.

“Will ye be joining us fer the meal?” Aileen asked, as the women moved from the garden.

“Alas, I have felt poorly these past few days and require rest,” Fiona replied with feigned regret. “I’ll eat some clear broth and bread later, if I feel better.”

“Oh. I am sorry to hear it.”

Aileen’s disappointment seemed genuine, but Fiona had little trouble ignoring it. Attending the midday meal in the great hall meant seeing Gavin, and that she vowed to avoid at any and all cost.

“She was asking for you again,” Alice said as she placed a tray of food in front of Fiona.

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