Page 53 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
The maid, a young woman with rosy cheeks and a knowing glint in her eye, smiled as she pointed down the corridor. “Miss Barclay’s chambers are just at the end o’ the hall, second door on the left.”
Moira thanked her before making her way toward the room, her steps both slow and determined, as her mind distractedly wandered. She wasn’t really present until she spotted something out of the corner of her eye.
Her stomach dropped.
She saw Malcolm walking slowly in her direction from a conjoining hall with an elderly-looking gentleman, one who she immediately recognized as Mr. Lennox. He had a slight limp to his step, his whole demeanor both sour and aged.
For a second, she panicked, her heart beating furiously in her chest. But she continued walking, this time more quickly toward Arabella’s room.
Malcolm didn’t sit right with her, especially after the arrow from his estate that had nearly thrown her off her horse.
It wasn’t that she feared him, so much as she felt a sense of general unease. A gnawing suspicion that she couldn’t shake. In the past she would have trusted her instinct, but her feelings were all over the place when it came to this case. She needed to straighten her thoughts out.
As she reached Arabella’s door, she took in a steadying breath, knocking.
“Come in!” Arabella’s cheerful voice called from the other side. Moira entered, shaking off the lingering tension from her brief encounter in the hall.
She found Arabella sitting on a ledge by a nearby window, buried deep in a book. She looked up, and as she saw Moira, and smiled warmly.
“Moira,” she said, settling her book down onto the ledge. “I didnae realize it was ye, come in, please!”
Moira closed the door behind her as she walked further into Arabella’s grand bedroom. “I hope I’m nae disturbin’ ye.”
“Ye’re nae disturbin’ me at all,” she beamed. “Come sit down, I’ll have the maids mak’ us some tea.”
Moira smiled gratefully, her tension easing slightly as she moved to take a seat in one of the plush armchairs next to the low table in the center of the room.
“I’ll nae turn down a cup o’ tea,” she said, settling into the chair and relaxing her shoulders for the first time that day.
Arabella gave her a mischievous smile before leaving the room to call for the maids. As she came back in, she settled into the armchair across from Moira with a relaxed sigh.
“How have ye been, friend?” she asked her, her eyes twinkling with a mix of curiosity and concern.
“Nae too terrible, a little busy. I’ll be glad tae be takin’ me time today,” Moira said as convincingly as possible. “An’ ye, Arabella? What have ye been up tae?”
Arabella batted her hand. “Aye borin’ as usual,” she said with a playful roll of her eyes. “Naething’s new with me, that’s why I’d like tae hear about ye! How are things wi’ Laird Fraser? I’m sure yer just brimmin’ wi’ excitement ahead of yer betrothal, I ken I’d be.”
Moira didn’t want to talk about Roderick, but had known, of course, that he’d come up. Before she could speak they were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Arabella called.
Moira was glad to see that it was a couple of maids entering the bedroom with their tea. Both Arabella and Moira thanked them as they set down a large pot with a selection of cups and plates filled with delicate pastries. The maids placed everything on the low table between them, a sweet scent filling the air.
As they left, Arabella poured the tea pot, smiling to Moira as she handed her a cup. “Aye, I’m glad tae see ye enjoy yer tea as much as I dae.’
Moira accepted it gratefully, savoring its warmth between her hands.
“So,” Arabella continued, “The laird. Tell me everythin’, leave nothin’ behind, I want details.”
Moira smiled and told Arabella a well-crafted version of their ride out to the hunting lodge, obviously leaving out any details about the arrow incident. After speaking for a few minutes she put down her tea cup and turned to her new friend.
“Enough about me,” she said, forcing a smile and waving a dismissive hand. “Please tell me what’s new wi’ ye. What have ye been daein’ the past few days? I’m dyin’ tae hear about somethin’ other than meself.”
Arabella arched a delicate brow, clearly unimpressed by Moira’s attempt to change the subject. She set her teacup down with a soft clink, then folded her hands in her lap, her expression unreadable.
“Well,” she finally said. “I did hear a rumor floatin’ through the castle o’ particular interest recently.”
“Aye,” Moira asked expectantly. “An’ what would that be?”
