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Matthew’s heart was still pounding. He lifted a hand to his chest in an effort to calm it, his mind racing. Now, he was beginning to regret everything he had done.

Almost everything he had said since the moment they had met had been to make her fall for him. So that they could be married, and so he could have what he truly wanted, but Matthew did not want to do that anymore. He wanted to be truthful, he wanted to show her that his feelings were genuine.

When did they become genuine?

That was another mystery he did not know how to unearth, but as he gazed down at her beautiful, sleeping face, he knew that he was beginning to fall in love with her. There was no denying it. He wanted her, which was expected when he was before such a beautiful woman. But he wanted her heart as well, her trust, her confidence. He wanted every bit of Jonet MacTavish, as much as she was willing to give.

Without warning, his mind drifted to the wine he had tossed out that morning. The memory of it made him uneasy, not knowing what to make of it. After what happened with the arrow, Matthew could not just write it off as a coincidence. With all that had happened with Jonet, he had to wonder if perhaps he too was falling prey to her curse.

She has nay curse. It is all a coincidence. The men who died and the wine this mornin’ are all just weird coincidences that I shouldnae linger on.

Yet the uneasy feeling did not go away. He stroked Jonet’s hair, hoping that it would help calm him, but it didn’t help much. The future was suddenly hazy in light of all that had happened, but Matthew told himself one thing. As long as he could have Jonet in the end, it would all work out well.

Chapter 17

The moment they arrived back at the Castle, Jonet went straight to the scullery. She had a hop in her step from her small nap by the pool and having Matthew with her the entire trip back made her feel worlds better than before. He did not have to say anything, even though he made sure to fill the silence. His very presence was comfort enough and Jonet couldn’t be happier.

Which was why she was going to settle his debt to him.

She found Christal scouring pots in the corner of the room. She hummed loudly to herself, while the other kitchen maids went about preparing the meat for dinner. Jonet gave them kind smiles before she approached Christal.

“The distance between ye and the others is very obvious,” she said by way of greeting.

Christal only cast them a disdainful look. “I think they might be gossipin’ about me. What about, I havenae a clue.”

Jonet leaned a hip against the counter, folding her arms. She regarded Christal with mirth, “Would ye like me to go tell them a piece of me mind?”

“I daenae need ye to fight me battles,” Christal grumbled, but she kept her eyes on the kitchen hands, who did not seem to notice the burning gaze in their backs. Jonet laughed.

“I daenae doubt it. Now, I have come to ask for yer help.”

Christal broke her concentrated stare to look up at Jonet in question, though she did not break the steady rhythm of her scrubbing. “What do ye need me help for? Daenae tell me ye plan to try yer hand in the kitchen again?”

“It wouldnae do well for the daughter of the Laird to give up so easily, daenae ye think? I would like to attempt making sweet cakes again.”

“If ye try it one more time, I fear ye might set the entire scullery on fire.”

“Yer faith in me is quite wonderful, Christal,” Jonet grumbled. She stood straight, clapping her hands energetically. “Let’s go, shall we? I would like to have it done before Matthew is finished spendin’ time with me Faither.”

Christal heaved a great sigh. She stood to her feet and rubbed her wet hands on the skirt of her dress. Flicking a sweaty lock of hair out of her face, she said, “How much time do ye think we have? I reckon it’ll take a few hours before ye’ll get this right.”

“I daenae ken what Faither and Matthew plans to do,” Jonet admitted. “When we returned to the Castle, Faither requested his presence in his study. But since I ken me Faither, I think he might have dragged Matthew along with him to go huntin’ again. Which means we might have about three hours or so before they come back.”

“All right, wonderful!” Jonet continued. “Now, I ken I’ve always told ye that I wanted to do it meself, but I daenae think I have that luxury anymore.”

“Aye, aye, let’s just hope me assistance will result in somethin’ decent this time.”

Jonet pouted a little at Christal’s complete lack of faith, but she hardly blamed her. Every time she approached the scullery, she would boldly declare that today was the day she would make something delicious all on her own. Yet every time, her mind would wander off and she would fail miserably. Jonet thought it might be because she would simply get a little too overexcited and Christal’s presence would be able to easily tamper that nasty habit.

“Since ye have bad history with flour, I will give ye the task of preparing the butter. Ye think ye can do that?”

Jonet rolled her eyes. “I’m nae a child, Christal.”

“Aye, I can see that. Ye have been spendin’ a lot of time with Mr. McDulaigh, havenae ye?”

Unable to help herself, Jonet blushed. She focused on the bowl Christal had handed her. “Since we are courtin’, it only makes sense that we would.”

“Aye, but it is odd considerin’ that ye were so determined to be rid of him just a short while ago.”


Tags: Lydia Kendall Historical