Page 140 of The Laird's Masked Passion

He was a frightened man. She was not certain whether the thought made loving him easier or infinitely more dangerous.

The Crown’s representative was expected within three days, which caused the household to react as though the king himself intended to arrive with an army, six bishops, and a personal objection to dust.

Guest chambers were opened. Sheets were aired. Fires were lit in rooms unused since winter. The kitchens became a place of heat, flour, shouting, and three competing opinions regarding the proper preparation of venison.

Elspeth placed herself in the center of it.

“The chamber above the eastern gallery is too damp,” she told the housekeeper. “Use the one beside the library.”

“That room hasnae been prepared, me lady.”

“Then we shall prepare it.”

The woman blinked when Elspeth bent to lift one end of a folded coverlet.

“Me lady, ye neednae?—”

“I possess arms. They may as well justify their expense.”

Skye took the other end. “Her arms also possess a wound nearby, which she has forgotten because inconvenience has never interested her.”

“I have forgotten naething,” Elspeth corrected.

“Then yer disregard is deliberate, which is worse.”

Two maids standing near the doorway exchanged surprised glances. Elspeth noticed. At her father’s house, ladies summoned, instructed, corrected, and departed before the work began. Elspeth had been taught that usefulness consisted of directing another person toward labor while remaining elegantly untouched by it. She never found elegance especially satisfying.

By afternoon, she had inspected four rooms, changed the sleeping arrangements twice, discussed wine with the steward, rejected a fish which looked personally resentful, and helped Margaret select linens for the royal visitor.

The household’s surprise slowly became cooperation. An older maid asked Elspeth where the additional candles should be placed. The cook sent for her opinion on the evening meal. A young servant brought her a ring of keys without being told. Each small question settled strangely within her. They expected her to know. More alarming still, Elspethwantedto know.

Skye watched her rearranging the flowers in the guest chamber.

“Ye are beginning tae behave like the lady of the castle.”

Elspeth removed a drooping stem.

“I am preventing a Crown official from believing Highland hospitality consists entirely of damp walls and threats.”

“Aye, the lady of the castle.”

“I am only trying nae tae be useless.”

The words escaped before she could stop them. Skye’s expression changed. Elspeth turned away, pretending great concern over the flowers. Her father’s letter seemed to whisper from wherever she had hidden it.

Ye have at last proved useful.

She set the vase down too firmly.

“Where dae ye want this?” Colin’s voice came from the doorway.

He stood holding one end of a heavy wooden chest. A broad-shouldered guard supported the other, though from Colin’s expression he considered assistance a personal criticism.

Elspeth stared at him. “What are ye daeing?”

“Moving the chest.”

“I can see that. Why?”