Page 62 of Laird of Wrath

Rhea caught Elsie’s eye and smiled. “Ye daenae need to look as though ye’re preparin’ me execution.”

Elsie’s eyes widened. “I beg yer pardon, me Lady.”

“I’m merely jestin’,” Rhea assured her.

“Och.” Elsie seemed to consider. “Should I laugh?”

Rhea regarded her with a small, amused frown. “If ye wish.”

Elsie gave a single, uncertain laugh, or at least a sound that could pass for one, then resumed standing as rigidly as before. Rhea suspected the poor girl had not relaxed since entering service.

“Me Lady.” Lara appeared behind the chair, carrying brushes, combs, pins, and enough ribbons to decorate a small chapel. “Sit.”

“I am sittin’,” Rhea pointed out.

“Ye are half-sittin’.”

“That counts.”

“It doesnae.”

“I prefer it this way,” Rhea insisted. “Gives me a way to escape yer combs.”

“Precisely,” Lara said. “But ye’re nae goin’ anywhere until I’m done with ye.”

Rhea hesitated, not eager at all to have her hair styled. The mere thought reminded her of all the times her governesses had insisted she needed to fix her hair, to let the maids pull and tug and brush until her scalp was tender. But in the end, she sat properly, though with a sigh theatrical enough to earn her a snort from Sienna.

Sienna had occupied the window seat, one leg tucked comfortably under her while a maid fastened the tiny pearl buttons along the sleeves of her gown. She bore the entire affair with remarkable patience, though every now and then she reached down to steal an almond from the little bowl beside her.

“Ye’ve eaten nearly all of them,” Rhea remarked. “Pass me a few.”

“Ach, nae that many,” Sienna said as she tossed a single almond in the air for her to catch, only for it to fall on the floor between them.

“Sienna! There cannae be more than five left.”

“There were never many to begin with!”

“There were dozens!”

Sienna popped another almond into her mouth with no trace of shame. “There are fewer now.”

“Sometimes ye truly are like yer brother,” Rhea huffed. “Yer mother must have been a saint.”

“Be careful,” Sienna said with a teasing grin. “Our bloodline is strong. Yer bairns might come out like us more than like ye.”

Rhea hadn’t given the possibility of children much thought. With everything that had been happening, children had been the last thing on her mind. But now that Sienna had brought it up, it would not leave her mind.

Would she eventually have children? Callum had given her the one month she demanded, one month for them to get to know each other, and that month was quickly approaching its end. After that, it was only a matter of time before they produced an heir.

Before the wedding, she had dreaded the thought of having a child with Callum—a stranger, a man who seemed more frightening than any other she had met before. And while he was gone, the thought hadn’t even occurred to her at all, busy as she had been with Sienna and the clan. But now the thought warmed something in her chest. Now she thought about the possibility of an heir with fondness rather than fear.

But that, too, frightened her. Callum had stayed with her. He had done as she had asked. But there was no telling when he would change his mind and go after Laird Barclay.

In any case, she wouldn’t be opposed to her child being like Callum.

“Ach, that wouldnae be so bad now, would it?” she quipped.

Sienna’s smile was answer enough.