Page 51 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

Truthfully, she didn’t know what she felt. She was still reeling from his sudden absence and the information she had found in the letter. And now, he wasn’t even giving her a chance to confront him because his behavior had shifted.

I’d say he was avoiding me, but he’s here. He could have taken his meal in his quarters. Perhaps… does he not want to be alone with me?

“Why do you look as though you are working out a complicated arithmetic problem?” Eleanor asked, her voice low enough that only Margo could hear her over the buzz of dining and conversation.

“Because I am,” Margo replied, glancing at Cameron to ensure he wasn’t listening. “But I cannot tell you about it here.”

Eleanor followed her gaze, and a knowing smile settled over her mouth. Rather than responding verbally, she nodded and turned back to her plate. She was a perfect little actress, catching Cameron’s attention and asking, “I was not aware that the strong storms reached so far. Is your cousin’s land along the coast?”

Margo nearly laughed at how committed her sister was to keeping things normal. She had taken to quizzing him about the lands during their meals. Her curiosity about the storms seemed insatiable.

I’m sure she’s been dying to ask him.

“It’s a bit further inland than we are,” Cameron said, his voice taking on the professional cadence that he used when teaching the village children. “They receive nearly the same amount of wind as we do, though they daenae get quite as many storms.”

He met Margo’s eyes then, holding her gaze for a short moment. His expression was still unreadable, and the thought that she may not have been getting as close to him as she believed rattled her. As Eleanor asked another question about the shape of the land, Margo poured all of her attention into her meal.

She barely tasted her food, sneaking glances at Cameron as often as she dared. He was never looking back, his focus shifting between Eleanor, when she was questioning him incessantly, and his plate. By the time they’d finished, Margo had only caught his eye once.

Have I done something to earn this treatment?

As soon as she was done, Eleanor rose from her seat. She looked at Margo expectantly, waiting for her to stand before picking her way through the rows of tables. When they stepped out of the Great Hall, Eleanor hooked her arm with Margo’s.

“Did something happen?” she asked, keeping her voice low as she let Margo lead them through the castle corridors to her chambers. “Is this because he came home early?”

“No, it’s not that,” Margo whispered, struggling to articulate everything in a way that was appropriate for Eleanor. Though they shared nearly every thought they had with one another, her sister wasn’t yet an adult. “I suppose he just confuses me.”

“I already knew that,” Eleanor chuckled softly, letting go of Margo’s arm when they reached her door. “Though he seems fairly straightforward to me.”

“Perhaps it is a symptom of marriage.” Margo let Eleanor enter first, shaking her head fondly when she saw that the kittens had returned. “Or a symptom of our marriage.”

“I remember overhearing the ladies gossip in England,” Eleanor said as she settled on the floor and invited the kittens over. Miss Crusoe nearly tripped over her paws in her haste to claim her spot on Eleanor’s lap. “You have heard them gossip, too. I think it is the marriage that makes him so perplexing to you.”

“I suppose you are correct,” Margo said. Though truthfully, she did not think that most marriages were anything like this one. “But I do not think every man is as full of contradictions as Cameron. He tells me that one thing must be done, but then seems to decide that we must do another. I do not know what he wants from me! If I did, perhaps his behavior wouldn’t confuse me so.”

Eleanor went quiet for a moment, stroking the kitten’s soft, gray fur. She seemed to weigh her words carefully before looking up at Margo. “I have come to the conclusion that grown men often behave far more foolishly than kittens.”

When Eleanor and Margo left the Great Hall, Cameron felt as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. His appetite seemed to return, and he finished his plate relatively quickly. Beside him, Gavin made a curious noise.

“Margo dinnae speak once,” Gavin noted, timing his observation with Cameron’s release of his fork.

“Perhaps she’s tired,” Cameron said, though he had noticed it as well. “I daenae ken what she’s been up to in me absence.”

He was not going to complain. After the time he spent with Marian and Lachlan, he was not sure how to interact with Margo. The realization that he had been a monster even when he had done everything to be a gentleman had shifted his world on its axis.

“Mrs. Campbell has been keepin’ her busy doin’ all those organizational tasks she’s been talkin’ about for years,” Gavin said casually. He took a long drink from his goblet. “Margo was quite confused as to why ye’d leave without tellin’ her.”

“I ken, I should have spoken to her before I left,” Cameron grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I have already explained me reasonin’ to her.”

“I assume that she wasnae satisfied with what ye said,” Gavin guessed, his finger drumming against the tabletop.

“Of course, she wasnae,” Cameron confirmed, his patience spread thin. “But it is too late for me to do anythin’ about it now.”

“Ye have a point,” Gavin agreed. For a brief moment, he said nothing else, letting the silence speak for itself. Then, apparently deciding he didn’t want to push Cameron’s irritation, he pivoted the discussion on another subject. “How are Lachlan and Marian?”

“They’re doin’ well,” Cameron said, glad to have a new subject of conversation. “Lachlan and his men already had the foundation finished by the time I arrived.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”