Page 45 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

“I thought we were going in, Mama?”

Daphne blinked. “Aye, we are. I’ll see ye tonight, me Laird.”

CHAPTER 10

Daphne inspected her reflection. Could she have done better? Should she have taken him up on his offer to have a dress made up for her?

Daenae be foolish, she told herself firmly. This dinner is just to talk about Willow, nay doubt. It isnae about me. It isnae about us. There isnae an us.

She didn’t have many dresses, just a few neat ones, suitable for a lady’s companion when out and about.

She’d chosen the best one. It was dark blue, hemmed with gold, with gold embroidery on the cuffs. The gown wasn’t in the latest fashion, but somehow she didn’t think that would matter up in the Highlands.

“Ye look very pretty, Mama,” Willow said drowsily.

Daphne glanced at her daughter’s reflection behind her and smiled. “Thank ye, sweetheart. Now, ye have to go to sleep once I go, all right? Ye have had yer supper, and I’ll be back very soon. Lady Pilbury is just next door.”

“Our room looks just like hers. It’s big and comfy. Elspeth says she’s going to teach me how to start a fire in the hearth.”

Daphne winced, imagining Willow with the skill to set fire. A bad idea.

“I might talk to Elspeth about that. It’s very kind of her to offer, though.”

“Why can I nae come down to dinner?” Willow pouted, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “I’d be good.”

“I ken ye would be, lassie, but it’s late, and ye are very tired.”

“I’m nae so tired,” Willow insisted, smothering a yawn.

Daphne tore her gaze away from her own reflection. It was no good. She looked exactly like what she was now: a companion. Nobody special. Nobody meant to draw attention.

And why should I want to draw attention? Blending into the background never bothered me before.

Drawing attention was not a good thing, not for a servant or a companion. She’d heard horror stories of pretty maids and companions who were unlucky enough to attract the attention of the masters of the house, or their sons, or their brothers, or their male guests. Bad things could happen when a man focused his attention on a woman of low status. She’d seen it herself.

And while Lady Pilbury’s sons lived away, the youngest in particular had always made Daphne’s skin crawl. He stared at her a little too intensely, and if they all traveled in a carriage together, he always managed to sit right beside her, leaning into her space, smelling of tobacco and bad breath.

In short, it had been a while since she’d wanted to be noticed.

Well, I’m nae going to be noticed. Nae in that way, she reminded herself.

“Do ye remember when we stayed at Lady Tomlinson’s?” Willow mumbled, lying back on the pillow.

Daphne leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Aye, I remember,” she said, conjuring up a memory of a tiny, bare box-room, with only a narrow bed with old ropes and a rusted iron frame. Aside from that and a chipped chamberpot, there was no furniture, not even a trunk or a stool. Moisture dripped down the walls, which were black with mold, and made them cough and wheeze.

“This should be sufficient for you,” Lady Tomlinson’s housekeeper had said with a haughty sniff, gesturing to the room and leaving Daphne and Willow to drag in their bags.

What a change to the fine guest room they had now, just as plush and comfortable as the one at Lady Pilbury’s.

“We really are guests, are we nae?” Willow yawned, her eyes drooping closed.

“Aye, lassie,” Daphne murmured. “I suppose we are.”

She waited until Willow’s breathing had evened out, then slipped out of the room. Her heart beat fast, and tension knotted her limbs.

It’s just dinner. I can manage dinner.

The dining room wasn’t hard to find. It branched off the Great Hall, the cavernous room she’d encountered before. Light glowed out from a large doorway, and when she poked her head inside, she saw a long table in a medium-sized room. Candles stood everywhere.