his sore head. ‘Ouch.’ He rubbed his skull, trying to lessen the pain, but didn’t take his eyes off Killian, who was heading for the door. ‘What did you say?’
‘ Get yourself washed and dressed, then come downstairs to the study and I’ll explain.’ Killian turned, his stern expression softening into a grin. ‘And eat something. You look awful and no respectable Scottish lass will give you so much as the time of day in that state.’
‘ Who says I want them to?’
But Killian had already left, so the question remained unanswered. Brice scowled in the direction of the closed door, but his father’s words had intrigued him and he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now.
‘ Damn it all,’ he muttered, but for the first time since he’d found out about Jamie and Elisabet, something had penetrated the fog of pain and piqued his interest.
Ignoring his aching head, he went in search of food and hot water.
Balancing a heavy tray on one hand, Marsaili knocked on the door to the estate office.
‘ Come in.’
‘ Sit. Stay,’ she ordered Liath in a stern whisper. As usual, he’d padded behind her as she went about her daily work, but she knew this was one room he couldn’t enter. She managed to open the door and manoeuvre her way through without dropping either the tray or its contents. Leaving it slightly ajar, she went across to the desk and deposited Seton’s breakfast in one corner where there were no papers or ledgers at present. Porridge with thick cream and buttermilk, two bannocks and a quart of ale, as well as some honey and cheese. Nothing but the best for the factor.
‘ Thank you,’ he said, without looking up at her.
Marsaili’s stomach churned. As housekeeper, it wasn’t really her job to serve Seton, but the maids were all terrified of him so she’d taken over the task a while back. Now she wished she hadn’t. She’d been dreading this encounter after what had happened the night before, but he seemed to be acting as if she didn’t exist. Well good , she thought. The less notice he took of her, the better. What on earth was he thinking? He’s much too old for me. But she knew there was nothing rational about men who lusted after women. And he was good-looking for his age, she’d give him that, so perhaps he’d genuinely thought she would welcome his advances.
As he pulled the tray over and started on the porridge, she turned to go, but before she’d taken more than a few steps she heard him spit loudly. ‘What the devil is this?’ he grumbled.
‘ I beg your pardon?’ She looked over her shoulder, bracing herself for an eruption of wrath. His temper was volatile, to say the least.
‘ I always have the great oats, not this pap, you know that well enough.’ He threw down the silver spoon borrowed from the laird’s cabinet and it landed in the cream, splashing globules all around. This made him visibly more irritated as he then had to mop the mess off his papers with his handkerchief.
Marsaili drew in a steadying breath and replied as calmly as she could. ‘There were none left, Mr Seton, only these. I informed you just the other day that we were running low on provisions. You said we’d have to make do as there’s no money for more.’ The so-called ‘black oats’ were an inferior type, usually given to the servants, but it was all they had now. Times were hard, or so Seton claimed, and the harvest still a good month away at least.
‘ You’re the housekeeper, you should have rationed it better,’ he accused.
‘ No one has been given any except you, Mr Seton, I assure you. I kept it under lock and key, as you instructed.’
‘ Huh, this is what comes of giving a slip of a girl responsibilities above and beyond what she can manage. Housekeeper, indeed. It’s a position for older and more experienced women.’
Marsaili decided not to answer. She was nearly twenty-two and didn’t consider herself a ‘slip of a girl’ any longer, but since