Page 28 of Married to the Icy Highlander
“Nae a single word from him either. I dinnae ken if he’s still sniffin’ around the distillery, attemptin’ to poach our workers, but if he is, then they have been quiet about it,” Ida continued. “I want so badly to believe that this is over and that the worst of it is behind us, but I feel like I’m countin’ me chickens too early.”
It was certainly a sentiment that Ceana understood well.
She stopped, turning her back to the window and leaning against the washstand. “Ferguson is still tryin’ to poach our workers? As if he doesnae have his own?!”
Ceana could still remember her father’s funeral, where he had offered to pay the wages of her workers, but that was when he was insistent that she marry him. She knew that he was more than willing to strike at her in any way that he could—not that she had done what he wanted her to do. But going after her mother? Her father’s distillery? She knew that Ferguson was a cruel man, but she had foolishly thought that he wouldn’t go that far.
“Well, they are bein’ paid proper wages again, and consistently. I think he got the message that they wouldnae be so easily swayed,” Ida sighed, peeling carrots slowly.
“So the money has come through, then? From the Laird?”
“Aye.” Ida nodded, her chin dimpling, but she would not look her daughter in the eye. “I am sorry that ye have to worry about that. It was me place to take care of ye and yer braither… and I failed ye. I didnae even apologize to ye or thank ye properly for what ye did for us.”
Ceana shook her head. “That’s nae necessary, Maither. I didnae mean?—”
“But ye did, and I am thankful for it,” Ida said firmly.
“The Laird has given ye everything that ye needed then?” Ceana probed.
“Aye, he has,” Ida confirmed. “All of our debts have been cleared. And as I said,hehasnae come back.”
“Good.” Ceana crossed the room toward her mother and wrapped her arms around her tightly. “There’s nothing that I wouldnae do for ye and Peter, ye ken?”
“But I want ye to be happy… that is all I have ever—” Ida paused, emotion thickening her voice until she couldn’t speak properly and needed a moment to compose herself.
“The Laird only looks beastly, Maither. I think that maybe… our marriage will work.”
Ceana said the words just because she wanted her mother to feel better. She hadn’t meant to mean them. At least, she didn’t think that she had. Yet, the moment she said them, memories of what she and Neil did last night flashed through her mind. If she had put aside her pride and given him what he wanted, they might be having an entirely different conversation right now.
“Good. I just cannae stand the thought of some cold brute… ye ken.” Ida shuddered.
Ceana rolled her eyes. No matter how Neil might appear to other people, she was overly aware of just how warm he could be when it was just the two of them. Even now, she was far from him, but the mere thought of him stirred her desire. She needed to focus. She was here to spend time with her mother before going to the festival.
“Fortunately, he has tasked me with raisin’ Jeanie. I think the lass and I are goin’ to get along just fine. If anything, I think that findin’ things to occupy her time with will be the bigger challenge if I’m bein’ honest. She’s so curious and high-spirited.”
“Sounds so much like somebody I kenned at that age,” Ida remarked with a teasing smile.
“I think it’ll be good for her to get better with her hands. Of course, bein’ the Laird’s daughter, she doesnae have to do her own mending and whatnae, but there is nay harm in learnin’ such skills. She’ll need them when she’s older anyway.” Ceana let out a laugh. “I wonder how the Laird would react to me teachin’ her some knife skills.”
Ida swatted her daughter with the cloth in her hands. “I dinnae want to ken how ye learned knife skills in the first place, daughter!”
Ceana grinned. “Bl—” she cut herself off.
Blaine and Ersie had taught her enough to know how to defend herself if she ever needed to. Blaine had been very insistent on it, in fact. Ersie had only been too happy to teach her a soldier’s mindset. But now those were more memories that Ceana did not wish to dwell on.
“How are her dancin’ skills?” Ida asked, effectively changing the subject. “That might be a skill more worth teachin’?”
Ceana nodded, getting back to the task of tidying up the place for want of something to do with her hands. “I reckon that I shall figure that out tonight at the festival. She has such a bright mind—I have nay doubt that she will take to it quickly even if she has two left feet.”
Neil came back to mind and the impossible fluidness with which he moved. She tried to shake the image away, but it would not go.
“Actually, I will head to the distillery for a while—make sure that nothing needs to be done there while Jeanie’s occupied in the gardens. If ye need me, send Peter,” Ceana said, wiping her hands and folding the cloth back into a neat square before placing it on the table in front of her.
She nodded curtly to her mother and turned to go out the back door that would lead her down to the curved path that separated the cottage from the distillery. It would not be a long enough walk for her to put the Laird out of her mind, but hopefully, it would be enough to slow her racing heart.
But she had made it no more than four steps outside when Peter skipped over to her, Myrtle trailing behind him, the same bored expression on his little face.
“I got a letter for ye!” he called out, brandishing the letter and waving it in the air.
