Page 94 of Ruined By the Ruthless Highlander
“My Lady?” Her voice was quieter now. Her eyes narrowed as she took a closer look at Marian, her excitement visibly faltering. “My Lady, are you all right?”
Marian stared at her with the same blank expression that had greeted the two women downstairs, and Lilly immediately rushed back to her. Her eyes fell to Marian’s trembling lips, and she immediately lifted a hand to her forehead.
“Has the journey made you ill, my Lady?” She tested her temperature. “You do not seem to have a fever.” She eyed her carefully. “Perhaps it is a cold. You do not have your cloak. Did you not wear it?”
My cloak…
Marian’s lips pressed into a thin line as she remembered how Lachlan had held it for her the previous day. He had been pleasant and kind. Not?—
Lilly moved suddenly, reaching for the doorknob, and Marian finally spoke, stopping her. “No, Lilly. I am not ill.”
Lilly frowned. “But you do not look well, my Lady,” she said softly. “Perhaps I should make you some tea?”
Marian shook her head, walking toward the half-made bed. “I only need to sit down,” she said, sinking down onto the mattress.
Lilly opened her mouth to say something, then shut it.
“Why were you making the bed?” Marian asked, as though it were the most pressing matter. “Did the Laird dismiss the chambermaids in my absence?”
The question made no sense, and she knew immediately after she uttered it. But she could hardly bother to take it back.
Lilly’s face was riddled with confusion. “No,” she replied slowly. “The Laird traveled with you to the Murrays’. Did he not?”
Marian scoffed sharply, ignoring the question. “I would not be shocked if he found a way. It is not beyond his pettiness. After all, we are not—” she stopped herself mid-sentence, straightening her back at the ridiculousness of it all, as though it had only just dawned on her.
Of course, we are not friends.
It should not bother her so much that Lachlan said it. It truly should not.
Her irritation flared as she snapped out of it. She had not come to Glen Carrick from London to befriend Lachlan. No, she had come to inherit the estate—hisestate—and govern it. They were never meant to be friends in any sense. More accurately, they were never meant to even meet.
Lightning struck overhead, and the rain began to fall at once, as though her realization had summoned it.
He does not matter.
She held onto the thought as though it might make it true. All that mattered was the inheritance dispute, and that was why she remained here. It was the only reason. Or so she told herself.
Lilly shifted awkwardly in front of her, her eyes wide with worry. “I… I shall prepare tea,” she stammered, before heading out of the chamber.
Marian let out a soft, humorless laugh, the sound surprising even her.
A knock sounded at her door, and Marian opened her eyes, surprised to realize that she had fallen asleep to the sound of rain.
She exhaled softly, pushing off the blankets that covered her legs as she looked around the room.
Where is Lilly?
Her lips thinned in embarrassment as she remembered how dramatic she had been.
She must have been worried.
Her head ached softly, and she held a hand to her forehead, sitting up in bed.
The knock came again.
“Who is there?” she called.
“’Tis Jamie, me Lady,” a fairly familiar voice answered, stripped of its usual playfulness. “A letter has arrived for ye.”
