Page 52 of Scandalous Scot
Ian noticed Marian step back out of the corner of his eye.
“You as well, Lady Marian.”
She didn’t hide her look of surprise.
“Have you word from your father?” the laird asked her.
It was an abrupt change of topic, but Ian understood the direction of his grandfather’s thoughts. She was openly surprised at being included in their discussion, and to those who knew her background, it was no secret why. Her father was misogynistic to the extreme.
“I did, Laird. He was less than pleased about the events that transpired.”
Namely, the fact that Marian had ditched her equally misogynistic intended for Greyson. Too bad, so sad for the English earl. But from the laird’s expression, he clearly didn’t give a shit what the Earl of Fenwall thought. Good for him. If everyone wasn’t so serious, Ian would have actually laughed out loud.
“I shall send my own message to him as well.”
Marian thanked the laird but said it would not be necessary. “I’ve made my peace with him.”
Ian’s grandfather nodded with an understanding that went beyond the actual words she’d used. It wouldn’t matter because Marian wasn’t staying.
So he knew they had the ability to go back home.
Ian really had no clue what else they knew, but he was looking forward to finding out.
“We will meet at sext. There is much to discuss.”
His grandfather was just about to walk away when his face lit up. Ian turned to see who he was looking at, and it was none other than his wife.
“Lady Màiri, what are you doing here at Hightower?”
Without so much as a glance at him, Màiri ran to his grandfather as if she’d known the man her whole life. Likely because she had. He embraced her with as much warmth as he would a granddaughter.
For a second, all Ian could think was he’d never seen her hair braided before. She must have woken up when Grey had come for him.
“’Tis a pleasure to see you, Laird.”
“I am glad to see you, girl.”
Girl? Yeah, not so much.
“Is your father here as well?”
“Nay, Laird. He is not.”
An awkward silence fell around them, and the reason was obvious. His grandfather had no idea what had happened between them.
Ian stepped forward.
“Lady Màiri is my wife, sir.”
Shit. Wrong title. But he’d gotten the point across. And his grandfather did not appear very pleased to hear it. These MacKinnish men were awfully protective of his wife.
21
Màiri was feeling warmerand warmer, unnaturally so, and it wasn’t simply because she sat next to Ian. When she woke, she’d been mortified to realize how long she had slept. Now, as she sat next to Ian in the laird’s solar chamber, each moment that passed gave her stomach another strange little twist. At first she thought perhaps she’d had too much wine the evening before, but this felt very different.
That her mother had died from an illness that manifested with only a fever and stomach pain did not help matters. Neither, she suspected, did the discussion that swirled around her.
Alastair and Dermot relayed how they’d helped Ian’s brother Rhys and his wife, Maggie, take back Castle Lochlavine. She tried to listen to the tale of Ellen, whom she knew as Lady Shona, and how she’d reunited with her family. How they used the cross to send her back after learning Ian had come through.
