Page 107 of The Scottish Duke
“I was asked to bring this up, seeing as how I was coming,” she said.
Every item on the tray was clinking against something. If they didn’t intercede quickly, Hortense was going to lose her grip and create yet another disaster.
Lorna cleared the table in front of the settee just as Nan grabbed the tray to keep everything from tumbling to the floor.
What was Mrs.McDermott thinking?
Hortense was tall and spindly, with a habit of leaning forward so that she looked like an egret hunting food. Although Hortense was at least ten years older, Lorna always felt the urge to protect her. Perhaps it was her air of innocence, as if she woke wide-eyed and naive each morning. Or her way of laughing like her own amusement surprised her. Her sweet disposition made her a favorite among the staff, and she was so happy with this opportunity to show her sewing talent that it was a pleasure to be around her.
“I’ll just go get my basket, shall I?” she asked now, looking relieved to be divested of the tray.
In seconds she was out the door, leaving Lorna to smile at Nan.
“She’s very sweet,” she said.
Nan nodded and handed her the plate of biscuits. Lorna didn’t hesitate and grabbed two.
“She is. She’s also the very worst maid.”
“But an excellent seamstress,” Lorna said.
She sat and watched as Nan poured the tea and handed her a cup. Robbie cried out in the bedroom. She put her cup down and was on her feet, tea forgotten.
Alex got to the stables early, the better to burn off the energy coursing through him. He entered cautiously, pleased when he realized he’d arrived before Mary.
His mount was Samson, a stallion he rode when he could. Although Mary was a fine rider, he’d given orders that she not be allowed to ride the horse.
A reaction he hadn’t analyzed until now. He was normally a generous person, or at least he wanted to be considered generous. Yet it annoyed him when Mary took advantage of that largesse or assumed that because he had given her A, then B should be hers as well.
Mary assumed that everything was hers. She was like Loch Gerry when it occasionally flooded, spreading over the glen until it turned into a marsh. There were no boundaries in her world.
Was that why she’d made Lorna miserable? Because she was jealous? He couldn’t accept that Mary had any feelings for him. He thought she’d simply decided to acquire him like she had the mare she rode, the wardrobe she wore, or the suite she occupied.
What the hell was he going to do about his sister-in-law?
The day was looking to be warmer than yesterday. The wind had calmed, leaving a perfect spring day to appreciate. These quiet moments were few and stolen from his responsibilities and the crowd of people at Blackhall.
The route he took was one familiar to him, through the woods, down a barely marked path to an outcropping over the loch, then backtracking a little to the road that led to Wittan Village. He took the road to the right to inspect the land around Blackhall and the herds of Highland cattle. Today he would carve some time out of his schedule to visit with a few of the crofters who made their living on Blackhall’s tillable land.
In a few hours he would be back home, soon enough to see Lorna. Otherwise, she would think him a besotted idiot.
What a fool he’d been to remain away.
She tended to Robbie. He wasn’t hungry, since he’d eaten less than an hour earlier. She changed his nappy and rocked him while sitting on the edge of the bed. When she heard a scream, she put Robbie in his cradle and ran into the sitting room.
Nan was on the floor, her back arched and limbs flailing.
“What happened?” Lorna asked, falling to her knees beside her friend.
Hortense stood there weeping and wringing her hands.
“Tell me, Hortense. What happened?” Lorna turned Nan to her side. Blessedly, the seizure appeared to be easing.
“I don’t know,” Hortense wailed. “I don’t. We were just sitting there talking, waiting for you, and all of a sudden she fell over.”
Lorna had never seen that with Nan before. People don’t normally have seizures without a history of them, she thought, and scanned the tray. She’d had two of the biscuits and nothing had happened to her.
“The tea?” she asked. “Did she drink any of the tea? Did you?”
