brimming with questions about what Birdie had been thinking, bringing that terrifying giant of a man home while their father was away. Birdie had managed to dodge them all, feigning exhaustion from all the excitement of the day.
Thank goodness Tessa was a late riser. She still lay snoring softly in the bed they’d shared last night. It was the perfect time to slip out and avoid further interrogation, but Birdie had lingered, plaiting and replaiting her hair until it was perfect.
Silly lass, she chided herself even as she smoothed a hand over the wisps that always came loose around her face. Here she was, fussing over her hair when she was wearing the same traveling gown she’d worn yesterday.
She’d borrowed a chemise to sleep in from Tessa, but she’d had to don the old gown again, for her sister was taller and a wee bit fuller of figure than Birdie. There was no avoiding it. She needed to return to her own chamber to gather her clothes and other personal items.
Which meant risking another awkward encounter with Gregor. Alone.
This was what she’d wanted, she reminded herself firmly. The Black MacLeod—a man whose presence, whose mere glance, was so imposing and awe-inspiring that even the fiercest Gunn warrior would quiver in his boots at the prospect of crossing paths with him.
With a fortifying breath, Birdie straightened her spine and marched to the door. The corridor was quiet and empty. Her bedchamber was only a few strides away, yet she found her feet carrying her down the stairs to the great hall instead.
A quick visit to the kitchens wouldn’t hurt anything, she told herself. Coward.
The kitchens were bustling with preparations to serve the morning meal. Annis, the castle’s new cook, was directing a scullery maid over one shoulder while trying to stir two pots at once.
Annis’s mother has been the castle’s cook until a fortnight past, but rheumy eyes had forced her to give up the position. Fortunately, her daughter had often worked beside her and knew the castle’s kitchens inside and out. Still, Annis wasn’t used to being in charge, or working on her own. The poor lass was red-faced and sweating even though it was only an hour into the day.
“Forgive me for interrupting, Annis,” Birdie said, lifting her voice over the clanging of pots and barked orders.
Annis’s straw-blonde head whipped around. “Och, I didnae see ye there, my lady.”
Birdie waved a dismissive hand. “Dinnae let me hinder yer work. I only wondered if our guest has been down to break his fast yet this morn.”
The widening of Annis’s brown eyes was confirmation enough. Gregor MacLeod seemed to provoke that reaction from everyone who laid eyes on him.
“Aye, indeed. He was down hardly a moment past dawn. I was worried I wouldnae have enough to feed him. Must eat like an ox, that man, for he’s as big as one.”
Birdie couldn’t be sure if it was merely because of the heat rising from the pots, but she thought Annis’s face flushed even deeper.
“Thank ye, Annis. I willnae take any more of yer time.”
Birdie hurried out, feeling much lighter than when she’d entered. If Gregor had risen early and had already come down to break his fast, he was no doubt champing at the bit to get on with their tour. But she hadn’t seen him in the great hall, nor in the corridor or on the stairs.
In all likelihood, he was down at the stables now—which meant she could slip into her room without having to face him just yet.
Lifting her skirts out of the way, she scampered back up the stairs and headed straight for her bedchamber. She ought not keep him waiting at the stables, so she’d have to be quick. She’d grab a few gowns from her armoire, and maybe her bottle of lavender oil in case she decided to—
Without thinking, Birdie shoved open her chamber door.
And plowed straight into Gregor’s chest.
His bare chest.
She would have bounced off the hard wall of his body and landed on her backside if not for the hands that shot out and steadied her.
“Easy, lass.”
She blinked at the hollow in his throat, which was directly in front of her eyes. His strong, steady pulse beat against the smooth, tanned skin there. For a long moment, all she could do was stand immobile, staring mutely at that thrumming patch of sun-burnished flesh.
Abruptly, he removed his hands from around her back, which had lingered several heartbeats after she’d regained her balance. The absence