Page 128 of The Scottish Duke
“With my mother, I think.”
They exchanged a glance. Did he share her sudden embarrassment? Had Louise come to get the baby and peeked into the sitting room? Dear God, she’d never be able to face the woman again.
Louise was sitting in the family parlor, reading. Every time she saw her mother-in-law, Lorna thought she appeared much younger than her age.
Louise glanced up at their entrance and put aside her book.
“Is Robbie with you?” Alex asked before Lorna could speak.
“Why, no.”
“Nan,” Lorna said, turning and racing from the room. Nan might have come to get the baby and not wanted to disturb them.
When she entered the room, Peter was sitting with Nan, on the edge of her bed, his bright blond hair once more falling down over his brow.
“Did you take Robbie?” she asked Nan, panic a growing bubble in her chest.
Her eyes widened. “No, I wouldn’t, Lorna. Not without talking to you.”
When Alex entered the room, Lorna turned to look at him.
“Nan didn’t take him. Your mother didn’t. Who did?”
“Mary.” They said the name at the same time.
Alex left the room. She followed him, racing to catch up.
A few minutes later they were in Mary’s suite, a lovely set of rooms decorated in peach and a soft blue. When she thought of Mary, it was in harsh reds, blacks, or greens so glaring they made you squint.
Mary wasn’t in her room, but her maid Barbara was, bent over one of five trunks scattered through the room.
“Where is she?” Alex asked.
The woman straightened.
“I don’t know, Your Grace,” she said, her tone civil but her sideways glance at Lorna leaving no doubt that what she was thinking wasn’t nearly as pleasant.
Barbara was a brownish gray. Her hair was gray; her skin had a gray tint. Even her eyes were a grayish hazel.
Lorna had avoided Barbara when she was on staff because of the woman’s sly and vicious tongue. The maid was more than willing to share tales, especially if they ridiculed others.
She’d always thought the woman cunning, but evidently that cunning didn’t translate to intelligence. Anyone with a scintilla of sense would know she was in danger at the moment.
Alex’s eyes were as cold as a frozen pond. His lips were thinned, as if they’d never once smiled. He was a statue. The muscle in his cheek didn’t flex as it often did when he was annoyed. He didn’t blink. He merely stood there watching Barbara, his attention directed solely on her.
Lorna would have been terrified in Barbara’s place.
Was the woman truly that foolish? Did she think Mary paid her salary? Did Barbara believe she was exempt from being fired on the spot?
“Where is she?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Barbara said, then added, “Your Grace.”
“Is she still at Blackhall?”
Dear God, what if she wasn’t? What if she’d left the castle, taking Robbie with her? Lorna couldn’t breathe for the thought.
“You told her to leave. Maybe she’s saying her good-byes.” This time Barbara didn’t bother trying to pretend any respect.
