Page 63 of The Scot’s Secret

Clara had to admit the countess was quite clever.

Once they were a distance from the castle, Sara turned and pointed behind them, away from the water. “The view of the sea is my second favorite,” she said.

Clara turned and gasped. From here, the entirety of Kenshire was visible. It spread like the wings of a bird in both directions from the main keep. Brockburg had looked impressive perched on its hill and seemingly stretching up into the clouds, but compared to Kenshire, it was nothing more than a single Pele tower.

“’Tis beautiful,” she said honestly. The sun had not seen fit to show itself that day, and the clouds hovered over the castle, making it appear almost magical.

“Thank you,” Sara said, accepting the compliment easily.

“Here.” She pointed to an outcropping of rocks, many of which were flat as if they were made for sitting.

“I don’t believe we’ve properly met,” Emma said to Clara. “I am Emma Waryn.”

“And much too impatient to wait for a proper introduction,” Sara finished.

“And I am Clara. . .” She stopped. It seemed rude not to give the woman who’d just covered for her a full name.

“And Alfred,” Sara interrupted.

Clara quietly exhaled.

“A lad. A visiting noblewoman. You are many things, Lady Clara—”

“Just Clara.”

“But a lady nonetheless.”

Emma and Sara both watched her, and she decided she could at least acknowledge that simple truth. “Aye, once I was a lady.”

“Once,” Emma repeated. “And while you’re at Kenshire, you’re a lady indeed. In fact, ’tis said we are dear friends already after travelling together!”

Clara smiled. “Then ’tis good to meet you, dear friend.”

“Emma,” Sara interrupted. “You mentioned news from Gillian?”

“Only that she wishes she could have come to visit.”

Clara could tell Emma wanted to say more, but likely she did not wish to do so in her presence. Suddenly, she felt like an outsider. But of course, she was an outsider. She’d been an outsider ever since she’d left home.

“So tell me the plan,” Emma said.

There was a plan?

“Geoffrey and Alex are expected back tomorrow,” Sara started.

Clara’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Alex’s name.

“Since Clara, pardon, Lady Susanna has not had the opportunity to enjoy herself in some time, I’ve planned a small. . . gathering.”

“Oh dear,” Emma’s facial expression told Clara all she needed to know.

“’Tis just a welcome home for you both. Some musicians and a special meal.”

Emma turned to Clara. “Sara refuses to do anything half-measure,” she said. “Extra musicians and a special meal likely means something akin to a banquet—”

“Nay,” Sara interrupted. “Nothing of the sort.”

Clara should be alarmed at such news. . .