Page 39 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

He was forced back to reality as soon as Gavin cleared his throat. He apparently stayed nearby for the sole purpose of getting on Cameron’s nerves afterwards.

“Should I commission matchin’ furniture for the cats next?” he asked, his tone cheeky and infuriating.

Cameron did not look at him, keeping his eyes on the doors that Margo had just disappeared through as he said, “Say another word and I will throw ye into the sea.”

“So, the wee things are disappearin’ into Laird MacLeod’s study?” Tilly asked as she set a bowl of milk in the center of the room.

All five kittens came running toward the dish, Miss Crusoe leading the insurgence. They nearly toppled the ceramic; Eleanor’s quick reflexes were the only thing keeping their dinner from spilling all over the stone floor. None of them seemed bothered, nor did they realize that their own excitement nearly ruined the very thing they were running to.

“Yes, it seems so,” Margo said, perching herself in an armchair by the hearth. “All of them were in a basket that Laird MacLeod wove himself.”

“I’ve heard that he could do more than tie knots,” Tilly said thoughtfully, taking a few steps back to keep herself away from the kittens’ splashing. “I’ve never been told which things he’s woven, though.”

“It is a beautiful piece,” Margo said, remembering the intricate pattern of the basket. Not only was there skill required to construct the object, but it was clear that Cameron possessed an eye for the ornate and decorative. “I did not believe Mrs. Campbell when she told me that he was the one who made it.”

“I think I will need to see it to believe it,” Eleanor muttered, shifting her fingers on the edge of the dish to accommodate the uncoordinated movements of the creatures.

“He did not seem very happy to know that I had been let in his study, let alone the fact that he had woven the basket,” Margo said with a small laugh.

The way he had frozen earlier, the brief look of panic that she had seen cross his features, was one of the most amusing things she had ever witnessed. She had seen him look authoritative and terrifying, and she had seen him leading his people through crises. She felt blessed in a way to be the reason he’d looked so unsteady.

“Of course, he wasnae!” Tilly said with a grin. “All men are so particular about their space. They will say it is us ladies who are fickle, but the second ye set a toe outside of where they believe ye should be walkin’, they’re irrationally upset.”

“It sounds as if you’re speaking from experience,” Eleanor said, laughing as she plucked Friday out from beneath Miss Crusoe.

“Aye, there are far more men workin’ on these grounds than there are women,” Tilly confirmed. She walked over to the tray she’d brought with her, grabbing a flannel and the unnamed tabby kitten when she stepped back from the bowl. As she cleaned the creature, she said, “And it’s quite amusin’ to get them worked up. They act as if ye’ll perish if ye try to take over stokin’ the hearths.”

“The more time I spend here, the more I am convinced that all men are confusing in their own infuriating ways,” Margo sighed, half-dramatic, half-serious.

“I feel the same way. Perhaps we owe Father a thanks for limiting the balls we could attend. At least we did not have to figure out the meaning behind mens’ cryptic behavior!” Eleanor exclaimed, taking the bowl away when the kittens began to squabble with one another when there was no more milk left.

Margo huffed out a little laugh, the statement twisting strangely in her gut. It was good that Eleanor was able to make jokes about the time they had spent with the man, Margo reasoned. It meant that Margo had been able to shield her little sister from the worst of his mistreatment.

“It looks as if we may need to start feeding them more,” Margo said, carefully changing the subject back to the kittens. They were licking drips of milk from the floor, Miss Crusoe appearing to have the biggest appetite out of all of them. “Now that they’re bigger, they are using more energy and growing just as fast as they were when they were tiny things.”

“I’ll go fetch a wee bit more!” Tilly said, setting the tabby down. “I believe she’s full, but I wouldnae want the others goin’ to bed hungry.”

“They should not need too much more,” Margo said thoughtfully, watching as the kittens began to clean themselves. “But perhaps we should add fish to their meal. That should keep them full longer.”

“They’re more than ready,” Eleanor said as Tilly walked toward the door. “I saw one of them eating a beetle this morning.”

“Then I’ll bring them fish with their next meal,” Tilly said before slipping into the corridor.

For a few seconds, Margo and Eleanor sat quietly as they oversaw the kittens’ post-meal routine. It surprised Margo just how quickly they had grown in the short time that they’d been caring for them. Their eyes had barely opened when Margo had fed them for the first time. Now, they were wreaking havoc throughout the castle.

“Have you and Tilly decided what we’ll be calling the black kitten and her tabby sister?” Margo asked, breaking the silence when the creatures began piling on top of each other near the hearth.

“I believe Tilly wants to name the black cat Spirit,” Eleanor said without looking away from the kittens. “And I think that Blossom fits the tabby well.”

“Those are beautiful names,” Margo said, resting her chin in her palm. “Miss Crusoe, Friday, Treasure, Spirit, and Blossom.”

Eleanor hummed, finally meeting her sister’s eyes again. Quietly, she said, “You didn’t ask Laird MacLeod to make the basket on my behalf, did you?”

“I did not,” Margo said immediately. “The man did that all on his own.” She paused, silently reflecting on the confrontation in his study. “Though, I may have chastised him for letting Miss Crusoe get lost. I did not ask him anything. All I did was tell him how careless he was for believing a creature so small did not need a bit of guidance.”

“I think you are the reason he went looking for her,” Eleanor said, rising from the floor and crossing the room to sit in the chair across from Margo. “He listens to you.”

Margo laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the statement, but when she realized that Eleanor wasn’t joking, her brow furrowed. Disbelieving, she said, “I do not think that’s true. I already told you that he found Miss Crusoe in his bed hiding from the storm. He probably found her there when he went to bed.”