Page 27 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

Gordon took in the entire scene keenly, forgetting himself until Ailis suddenly turned to him.

“May she have breakfast with us?” Ailis asked.

Her voice was sweet. Too sweet. She had already decided. He could see it in the lift of her brow, in the careful innocence of her face. She was asking only to see whether he would be beast enough to refuse a lonely child before half the household.

Gordon looked at Lileas. The girl held the hedgehog tighter though it had begun to squirm in protest. Her eyes fixed on him with uncertain hope, and he wondered, with a dull ache, how often children looked at him expecting refusal.

He gave one nod.

Ailis clapped her hands softly. “There. It is settled.”

Lileas brightened. “Can Brochan eat with us too?”

Gordon went still. “Brochan?”

Ailis folded her lips together.

“The hedgehog has a name?” he asked.

“Of course, he has a name,” Ailis said. “He is part of this family now.”

“This family?” Gordon repeated, his temple throbbing now as he realized what he had just agreed to.

She gave him a sidelong glance, all sweetness and trouble. “Aye, so, of course, he may join us.”

The maid made a strangled sound. Marion covered her smile with one hand. Beth looked at the ceiling as if asking heaven for patience.

The hedgehog wriggled in Lileas’ arms again.

Gordon stared at Ailis. She stared back, eyes bright with victory.

Gordon knew he should order the creature returned to whatever hedge had suffered its absence. He should have the servant wash the lass and mind her better.

I should deny her this. It will certainly make her dislike me and this union more. But he could not bring himself to shun that hopeful gleam in Ailis’ eyes. Or that of the bairn either.

“One breakfast,” he said, caving into his heart first. “And the beast stays off the table,” Gordon added.

“Brochan,” Ailis corrected gently.

Gordon looked at the hedgehog then hardened his jaw. “The beast stays off the table.”

Lileas hugged it close. “He will be good.”

“I doubt that,” Gordon said.

Ailis laughed loudly, and the sound tickled his insides.

His keep had never felt less orderly.

Nor, God help me, less empty.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I’ll prove to ye I ken hard work… Me Laird.

She had expected filth when she decided to work at the stables. Of course, stables were not scented chambers, and horses, for all their beauty, had very poor manners.

What she had not expected was the stable boy’s horror when she took the broom from his hand and asked where the clean straw was kept.