The Highlander's Destiny (Highland Rogues #2) - Mary Wine Page 0,22

and dipped his quill into the ink well.

“I can write those,” Rhedyn spoke from the doorway.

“Ye will go back to bed and conserve yer strength for the birth as the midwife advised,” Buchanan instructed his wife.

“Lying in bed will make me weak,” she replied. “Perhaps it is the fashion for noblewomen in England to lay in, but I will no’ be doing such a useless thing.” She came further into the room. “I will help ye find Cora.”

Buchanan jabbed the quill back into the inkpot. He stared at his wife for a moment. “Aye. Well, ye can write this letter to the McKay. Once it’s finished, send it out with Muir.”

“Ye are trusting Graham McKay with the knowledge that Cora is missing?” Rhedyn questioned.

“She might be injured,” Buchanan responded. He stopped and bit his lower lip. “Forgive me tone, lass. I am no’ at ease sharing such information, but it is the best solution to finding Cora quickly. Even if it means I pay a ransom for her. Better to have more men searching for her.”

“I agree.” She lowered herself into the chair and reached for the quill.

Buchanan kissed the top of her head, pausing to inhale the scent of her hair before he strode out of the room. Rhedyn knew he was going to ride out.

*

The clouds were back by morning.

There was an ominous rumbling overhead as Cora forced herself to get out of the bed. Leaving the warm blankets behind took resolve and a couple of muttered words she shouldn’t have said, once the cold hit her. She happily put on her overdress, smiling as the wool added another layer between her and the elements.

With the storm, the light of day was muted. Cora found her way to the kitchen and began to stoke up the fires. The flames cast a cheerful light while warming her nose and cheeks.

“It appears I will no’ be sending ye down to the McKay castle today,” Faolan spoke from the doorway.

There was a rumble of thunder in response.

Cora turned and nodded. “It would seem not.”

Their gazes locked.

Faolan broke the connection, though, turning and heading back into the hall.

Was he disappointed?

Are ye?

“Christ!” Cora mumbled at herself. There was work to do. She paused for a moment as she looked around the kitchen and realized she was happy to have something to do. Not just a task to occupy her time, for she was actually needed here.

Back on Mackenzie land, there were maids aplenty to see to the work. She’d been at her leisure and free to run wild. Her education had been well attended to, but in the end, she realized she’d always known the castle would go on without her doing a single task. In the kitchen, there in the Mackenzie stronghold, she had been indulged for the sake of her education.

For the very first time in her life, she was truly needed.

That restlessness which had been needling her lately suddenly receded. Something else filled her—a sense of purpose after remembering all the lessons and skills she had been taught growing up.

So, she wouldn’t be idling the time away.

*

The storm didn’t break until the evening.

But the clouds kept everything dark.

Sometime in the evening, the impossible pace Cora had kept in the kitchen slowed. She took a breath and realized the table was clean, and so was the floor. No dirty dishes were waiting for her, and the copper was full of water, which was gently steaming. Supper was finished, which afforded her the time to notice just how much her feet hurt.

The kitchen had plenty of stools. Cora pulled one from where it was pushed beneath the center work table and lowered herself onto it. Her feet enjoyed the respite as she took a long look around what had become her domain.

The kitchen bunks were formed by solid rock. Instead of filling in the space when they’d built the wall, they had left it open to form a bed for one person. One above the other, they were next to the main hearth. The two bunks would make fine sleeping beds for whoever was assigned the task of making the first meal of the day. In a larger household, it might be two maids or the boys who turned the meat on the spit.

All that was needed was a pallet and sleeping blankets.

Cora found them stored away. Clearly, some of the women who had been sent to the remote tower had slept there. They’d rolled the pallets up to keep rodents from