Page 10 of A Virgin for the Icy Laird
Where could he find a woman who could help him without risking her family’s wrath?
It should be a woman whose feelings wouldn’t complicate the mess and whom he could at least stomach looking at and pretending to court for the month he needed to convince his councilmen.
A vision of green eyes flashed through his mind as he moved to the washbasin to do his morning ablutions, but he dismissed the thought. Just because Alec had accepted her so easily didn’t mean he also could.
Yet…
“A servant—nay, aknitter?” he asked himself with a frown as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. “But why should I feel so attracted to her?”
Her large green eyes set in a beautiful face hovered in his mind’s eye as well as the memory of the lovely flush that had painted the smooth skin of her neck and shoulders when he had stepped close to her.
Her hands were small and delicate, but they looked strong and capable, especially when she had petted Alec. Adair had found it difficult to keep himself from touching her when her hands had roamed over his body as she measured him.
The memory of her fingers on him had him stiffening in his drawers.
If she were to play his betrothed, he could put off looking for a wife and placate his meddling councilmen at the same time.
The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he was quick to force it down. If Callum could give up his freedom and marry for the sake of the clan, surely he could ignore his displeasure for just one month.
It still amazed him how his little brother had matured so quickly that he was willing to marry a woman he had never met without argument.
“Fergus,” Adair called.
“Aye, me Laird,” Fergus answered, stepping inside.
“Send a maid to fetch Mrs. Donnelly,” Adair ordered.
“Right away, me Laird.” Fergus sketched a bow, before leaving.
Adair paced before the door, trying to think up a reason why this plan would never work, but all hands kept pointing to the fact that this was a better plan than anything he could have come up with.
“Ye asked for me, me Laird?” Mrs. Donnelly asked, stepping into his study.
He had told her several times to drop the formalities when it was just the two of them, but she insisted on them.
She had been more than the head housekeeper in the years following his mother’s death and had been a source of comfort when his father had passed as well, even if he hadn’t been the most agreeable of men.
It had indeed been a dark time for him, trying to process the grief of his father’s sudden passing and the weight of managing the clan himself when there was still a lot to learn.
It was why he had retained the councilmen his father had appointed in his time, despite how they frustrated him. They had been instrumental in the survival of the clan and in training him for his new responsibilities.
“Aye, I did,” he answered. “I would like ye to arrange a meeting with the new knitter after the midday meal.”
“Alright, me Laird,” she answered, then turned to leave.
“Ye daenae want to ask why I want to meet with her?” he asked, surprised.
Mrs. Donnelly spared him a look over her shoulder. “I’ve been in this castle for over thirty years, me Laird. I ken when to ask questions and when I am better off nae kenning.”
With that, she stepped out of the room, leaving him wondering if he had perhaps made a terrible mistake.
“Ye must wake up now, Elize.” Emily shook her sister, sitting up in the cot they had been given in the maids’ common chambers.
Already, maids milled about the room in different states of dress, and the chaos made her wonder how she had been able to sleep so long. In truth, she had had no nightmares since she had come to stay in the castle, and the fact astounded her.
“Nay,” Elize groaned, turning onto her side. “It’s much too cold to do so.”
“Ye’ve slept enough, Elize,” Emily scolded. “’Tis time for us to start the day.”
