He glanced away. “I suppose I’ve nothing to order or complain about,” he said, and casually rose to his feet. “My cousins are determined to make me comfortable.”
She took in his hunting attire. “Ye donna look dressed for the wedding games. Ye look as if ye intend to ride. Will ye no’ participate?”
“The gentlemen are to hunt,” he said. “The wedding games are for those who willna hunt today,” he added carefully.
“Ah,” she said and gave him a knowing nod. “The servants, ye mean, are to enjoy the games.”
He said nothing. She laughed at his unwillingness to say it and walked to his bed to make it. “Ach, tossing and turning again, are ye?”
Like a madman. Her remark made him feel uncomfortably exposed, and he walked to the windows overlooking Loch Leven. “Did ye enjoy the festivities last night?” he forced himself to ask.
“Aye,” she said. “Yer cousin is to be commended, for he treats his servants well.”
Payton closed his eyes and imagined the many men gathered around her last night. He opened his eyes, clasped his hands behind his back, and asked, “Did ye dance, then?”
“For a time. No’ as much as ye did, I’d wager.”
“Ye danced for a time…and then what?”
She laughed at the question, and Payton turned to look at her. She was carelessly fluffing a pillow. “Then I retired. Did ye fear I would run off to be another man’s housekeeper?” She laughed again.
But Payton’s conscience was pricked, and he did not respond.
Mared tossed the pillow onto the bed and walked around the end of it. She picked up his coat, laid it on the bed, and folded it rather haphazardly. “Hmm,” she said, frowning down at it. “It always seems better when Una does it.” With a sigh, she picked up the coat and put it away in the bureau, gracefully avoiding Payton as he moved to the hearth. She turned around, rubbed her palms together. “All seems in order—”
“My shoes,” he said hastily, spying his shoes on the floor near the hearth.
She looked at his feet.
“Have Charlie shine them, aye?” He stooped down, picked the shoes up, and held them out to her.
Mared gave him a dubious look. “They seem to have been polished.”
“No.”
With a shrug, she walked forward and reached for them, and as he handed them to her, Payton impulsively, foolishly, put his other hand to her face, touching the soft flesh beneath her ear lobe. Mared gazed up at him. There was no fear there, no consternation…just a soft curiosity as his fingers traced the line of her jaw, then trailed to her nose, and to her lips.
“What is it?” she asked quietly.
You. Us. Everything. He shook his head, let his hand drop to his side. “Enjoy yerself, Mared. Enjoy the wedding festivities. Ye deserve to do so. I’ll no require yer services any longer this weekend. All of ye are to enjoy the wedding as a holiday.”
She lifted one curious brow, but smiled sweetly. “Mo chreach, ye must have a care, milord. Ye’ve a reputation as a mean and black-hearted laird to uphold, aye?”
“Aye,” he said, and turned away from her green eyes, to stare at the fire in the hearth. “Good day, Mared,” he said quietly.
She stood there a moment longer; he could feel her gaze on him, and he silently begged her to go, to leave him. At last, at long last, she turned away and walked to the door. “Good day, Payton,” she said evenly. He heard the door shut and glanced at it over his shoulder, then stared again at the fire.
Twenty-one
O utside Payton’s room, Mared lingered a moment, wondering what any of that meant. She put her fingers to her skin, where his touch still lingered, and then to her lips.
But she hurried from that door, lest she suffer a weak moment and throw it open and beg him to keep her safe from Jamie.
The curse had risen up from its black crypt almost the moment she saw Jamie’s cruel smile and the ugly look in his eyes. Then came the whispers and looks she’d feared, the murmur snaking through the crowd like a poisonous asp. Eyes were suddenly on her, watching her closely.
She’d not imagined it, she knew she hadn’t, for she’d felt it too many times in her life.
But as practiced as she was in dealing with the fears of suspicious Highlanders, she would guard herself closely, keep her distance. The same as she’d always done, keeping to herself to avoid speculation and talk.
She made her way to the old stables and handed Payton’s shoes to Charlie.