Robert waved his hand. “Ah, O’Keif,” he teased. “Surely a cup of whiskey willnae dull yer senses. Yer Laird and I remain sharp as could be. Drink.”
Caelan looked to Aaron for help, but Aaron only smirked and shook his head.
Only a few people could hold their liquor better than the man, but he swore by this public performance, firm in the belief that it somehow always gave him the upper hand.
“I insist,” Robert added.
“Very well then,” Caelan relented at last. “I shall allow meself a single sip.”
He lifted the cup to his lips, his eyes widening over the rim as they caught something or someone that obviously interested him.
Aaron followed his gaze, his eyes falling on Violet.
Surely nae.
Caelan swallowed more than a sip, his entire demeanor changing as his gaze followed the lass across the Great Hall.
“Who is she?” Robert asked.
Aaron laughed lightly. “Edith’s maid.”
“Perhaps she’ll ken where our ladies are,” Robert said, beckoning the maid over before Aaron could stop him.
She walked toward them, curtsying to Aaron and Robert before glancing at Caelan.
“Mr. O’Keif.” She smiled softly.
Caelan nearly spilled his drink.
“Good day, lass.” His voice was strained.
Violet’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. She straightened, turning to face Aaron and Robert. “Ye called?”
“Aye,” Robert responded. “Have ye seen me wife?”
“Aye, but?—”
“Tell Lady Edith and me sister that I request their presence,” Aaron cut in.
Violet nodded, hesitating briefly in front of Caelan before walking away briskly.
“Damn me,” Caelan mumbled.
The two Lairds turned to face him.
“What is wrong?” Robert asked.
Aaron shrugged lightly. “Perhaps it is the whiskey.”
“Or perhaps I have found me woman,” Caelan said. “Perhaps it is her.”
Aaron shook his head, taking a sip from his cup.
Robert laughed. “How can ye ken it?”
“I daenae,” Caelan responded. “But I have seen her around the castle, and I ken a sign when I see one.”
He stared at the door through which Violet had just disappeared, and Robert patted his shoulder lightly.