Scot to the Touch (The Hots for Scots #7) - Caroline Lee Page 0,32
no’?”
“Truly, ye Oliphants are a welcoming clan,” Katlyn managed.
“Och, nay, we just ken true curses. Having different colored eyes? Bah!” The older woman smiled and shifted the basket of soiled linens to her other hip, both hands occupied now. “I had a pup with two different colored eyes once, and he was the most beautiful creature. Now, Nessa—ye’ve met her, aye?—she believes she’s cursed.” The older woman settled into a gossipy tone. “Have ye heard of her betrothals? William—excuse me, Laird Oliphant”—she winked, leaving no question she and the laird were on intimate terms—“has just signed her seventh betrothal, and every blessed one of the intended bridegrooms have been named Henry. We’ll see if this one survives long enough for the poor lass to meet him in person, although I ken she’s no’ the only person in Oliphant Castle who wishes these betrothals would cease.” Before Katlyn could ask what she meant, Moira hurried on with, “Now Nessa believes she’s become a curse.”
Katlyn could imagine why. “It must be frustrating to be betrothed so many times,” she managed, past the lump in her throat. She’d never been betrothed, not even once. That had been decreed from the moment she’d opened her eyes for the first time and her grandfather, the laird, had seen what he’d called, “The mark of the devil.”
“I’m sorry, lass,” Moira offered quietly, her expression softening. “I didnae even consider how that complaint might sound to ye.”
Shrugging, Katlyn forced a small smile. “I’ve recently been reminded my life doesnae have to be empty just because my grandfather believes nae decent man will have me.” In marriage, at least. “I manage his household well enough, which is why I can appreciate how smoothly things run at Oliphant Castle and all but ran ye down when I saw ye crossing the courtyard to tell ye so.” She offered the older woman a gracious nod, and Moira seemed to stand a bit taller. “And I suspect I wouldnae shock ye to explain that I believe I can even find pleasure in my life as well.”
Moira’s smile bloomed, and she winked. “Aye, ye’ll find I’m no’ easily shocked, much less for those reasons. The Church might teach us that pleasure is reserved for the marriage bed, but I suspect our Father Ambrose is a bit more understanding.” Chuckling, she shook her head. “Have ye met him yet? He’s a new arrival to Oliphant Castle and believes in caring for his flock’s physical and mental well-being, as well as our souls. Which leads to sermons on the theme of ‘Holy Scriptures tell us to count our rainbows, no’ our thunderstorms’ and ‘Thou shalt wash thy hands before sticking yer fingers in yer mouth. ‘Tis disgusting; were ye raised in a barn?’ ” Her grin grew. “He’s verra interesting and doesnae believe in curses either,” she added with another wink.
It was impossible not to be cheerful around the happy woman.
“He does sound delightful,” Katlyn agreed. “And I’m pleased he doesnae believe in curses. Does this mean he doesnae believe in the Ghostly Drummer?”
“Och, the drummer’s nae curse!” Moira was quick to defend, shifting the laundry basket back to her other hip. “ ’Tis said he’s helped more than a few of the laird’s sons find love, ye ken.”
This time her wink looked a little knowing. Before Katlyn could wonder at that, the older woman continued.
“Nay, the drummer is just part of our history, and I ken ye’ll agree once ye finally hear him.”
Katlyn nodded hesitantly, not certain she wanted to hear the ghost who doomed listeners to fall in love.
Ye dinnae need the ghost, lass. Ye’re half in love already.
‘Twas true. All she’d needed was a night and a day in Kiergan’s company—the time spent being treated as an equal, a partner, a friend—to lose her heart.
It’d been two days since she’d seen him, two nights since she’d climbed through the secret passage’s door into his room, removed her clothes, and gave him her virginity.
The previous day had been spent with the ladies and Davina, trying to understand what secret her sister was hiding, but it hadn’t worked. Vina wasn’t sleeping well—that much was obvious—and was worried. She was also snappish and closed off. Whereas usually the sisters chatted about all sorts of things, ‘twas clear Davina was hiding something, and a full day of dropping hints and looking for clues hadn’t cleared anything up.
She wondered if Kiergan had had more luck.
As if thinking of the man had conjured him, she heard her