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Scott wafted a dismissive hand. “M’Laird would ken it’s all in good jest. Ye never ken, it might throw him into a jealous rage that sees him fall desperately in love with ye. Nae that he’s far off that as it is.”

Alarm shortened Saoirse’s breath for a second or two. Did Scott know about the music room? She’d seen him and Noah together in the hallway yesterday, but surely Noah wouldn’t have offered up such secrets. Spying the earnest creases around Scott’s eyes, she relaxed. Evidently, he meant well.

“Ye think he could learn to love me? I feel like a battle was won yesterday, but the war could go either way.” She sighed, thinking of the wildflowers in the vase upstairs. She’d put them there as a reminder that everything that had occurred in the music room was real.

Scott scoffed. “Aye, and I think he’s already takin’ lessons.” He paused: his expression more nervous. “In truth, M’Lady, I havenae seen him like this in a long time.”

“Nae since his old love?”

Scott’s eyebrows shot up. “How do ye—?”

“Mary,” Saoirse said simply. “I suppose she wanted me to be sympathetic to Noah’s behavior, in case I decided I’d had enough and went back to Baxter Keep. She’s a clever bird, my dear Mary.”

Scott seemed to flounder. “It doesnae bother ye?”

“Och, it does, but I cannae change the past or erase that time in his life. Mary said he was young when it happened, so that’s a comfort.” Saoirse shrugged, not wanting thoughts of another woman to mar her slowly growing hopes. “What was she like?”

“It wouldnae be polite of use the words I’d like to, so I hope that alone can enlighten ye,” Scott replied in a cold tone. “But I can tell ye that the pain he suffered was like a physical injury. A festerin’ wound that nothin’ could heal. Then, it became a scar that bothered him, like an auld man whose leg aches in the winter. Now, however, I can tell he’s starting to recover properly, and that’s all because of ye. Ye’ve already taught him to care again, so I daenae think it’ll be long before love for ye becomes his medicine.”

Saoirse swallowed. “Could ye tell me somethin’ of what happened, to hurt him so badly?”

“Och, I would, but it’s nae my history to tell,” Scott answered apologetically. “When he finally opens up to ye about it, that’s when ye’ll ken that ye have his heart. Just daenae go breakin’ it, eh?”

Saoirse smiled. “I wouldnae dream of it. I made a new vow, last night, to keep his heart safe. I intend to fulfill it.”

Just then, a scream pierced the air. Scott whirled around, whipping his dirk from his boot. His arm shot out across Saoirse, pulling her behind him to protect her. From across the stretch of lawn that bordered the rose garden, three figures charged.

It took a moment for Saoirse’s panic to bubble into giddy laughter, as she pushed past Scott and ran to meet the welcome faces of three of her sisters—Georgia, Ayda, and Anna.

“What in heaven’s name are ye doin’ here?” Saoirse cried, throwing her arms around them and letting them squeeze the life out of her.

Georgia cackled. “What do ye think? Dae ye have any notion of how quiet it is at the Keep without ye? We’ve been so bored, Saoirse! So, we thought we’d sneak away to make nuisances of ourselves at yer new abode.”

“Maither and Faither daenae ken ye’re here?” Saoirse pulled back in shock, noticing Georgia’s mischievous grin immediately. “Och, daenae do that! I thought I was goin’ to get ye all in trouble.”

Ayda clung on the tightest. “Ye’re nae cross with us, are ye? Anna said ye might nae want the intrusion.”

“That’s nae what I said,” Anna protested. “I said she might be too busy to spend time with us. Daenae forget, she’s the Lady of the Castle now.”

Georgia smirked. “Doesnae look like she’s doin’ much Ladyin’, or are leisurely pursuits and wearin’ flowers in yer hair a part of it?”

“Very much so.” Saoirse winked, gesturing for Scott to come over. “Sisters, this is Scott Pittsborough. Man-at-Arms to my dear husband.”

Anna’s eyes lit up. “Dearhusband? So… all is well?”

“When it has been more than a matter of days, I’ll tell ye,” Saoirse teased. “All I ken is, I’m… settlin’ into this marriage. Noah and I both.”

She waited for Georgia to add one of her usual, witty remarks, but her most amusing sister was oddly silent. In fact, Georgia’s eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of her head as she stared at Scott.

“Daenae even think about it,” Saoirse whispered, giving Georgia a sharp nudge in the ribs. “He’s infamous, if ye understand my meanin’, and ye willnae be one of his conquests.”

“Aye, but what a fine battle it would be,” Georgia swooned.

Saoirse’s eyes narrowed. “I mean it.”

“So do I.” Georgia flashed a wink, snapping out of her daze. “What do they put in the water here, Mr. Pittsborough? All of ye men are so devilishly handsome.”

Scott bowed his head. “If I told ye, I’d have to lock ye away for the rest of yer days. ‘Tis an ancient secret.”


Tags: Lydia Kendall Wicked Highlanders Historical