Chapter 47

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Alex would do what he could to stall mother, but I had little time. As I ran through the courtyard, I shouted at everyone I crossed to find Innis and Angus and bring them to the main hall. Servants dropped their work and scattered, no doubt alarmed by my panic.

A soft, wooing voice reminded me I was Laird now. Finery and gowns were unnecessary to maintain my appointment or position. My confusion and nausea at my mother's return smothered that voice. In five minutes, I was no better than the trembling child she had left behind.

There simply wasn't time.

Inhaling deeply through my nose, doing my best to put my thoughts at ease, I ran faster, careening through the castle. I flew through the double doors of the main hall and skidded to a halt in the dark stillness of the room.

She was just going to meet me as I was.

She'd survive it.

I'd survive it.

There wasn't enough time.

Pants. Paint-splattered. Sunburned. Disheveled in every way.

I gave up on the idea of making myself look acceptable and focused on making myself calm. I pulled the thin leather strap from the end of my braid and finger-combed my quarrelsome curls into haphazard submission — pulling out as many blades of grass as I could. My hands trembled as I pulled it back and twisted it into a tight bun.

What would I say?

What would I do?

Maids had followed me into the hall and were yanking open the curtains, allowing light to flood the room. How they knew what I needed was beyond me. We never used the main hall. We entertained no guests. Alex and I preferred to eat in the kitchens or in my rooms. My heart nearly caved in when I realized that despite its disuse, they had kept the room in excellent condition. There was no dust or disorder to contend with. The Laird's Seat gleamed and looked polished. The room was chilly without fires roaring in the fireplaces that lined the room, but that was manageable.

If mother had come home to a dirty hall...

I spoke to each woman, my hand pressed over my heart. "Thank you, thank you." I almost cried from the relief of their support.

A porter walked in, stiff-backed and serious. "Are we expecting guests, ma'am?"

"Alex is leading..." I licked my lips and smoothed the front of my shirt. This porter, sixteen years old, would not have known my mother. "We have a guest. Please escort Alex and our visitor to the main hall as soon as they arrive."

The porter bowed and left.

I walked around the room, trying to steady myself. My boots echoed against the stone, clunking and loud. Unfeminine and unrefined. I sat in the Laird's Seat, thinking that was the correct thing to do, but after a moment jumped out of it, shaking the tingling prick of nerves out of my fingers. I paced, gulping air and exhaling it in loud, audible sighs.

The maids filtered out.

There was nothing to do but wait. My heartbeat a mad ricochet inside my chest.

How did I feel? I couldn't tell. The situation was unfathomable. Either she was back from the dead or...

Angus and Innis trotted in through a side door, looking flustered.

"What is going on?" Innis asked, smoothing her hair.

"You scared the devil out of my guards with your shouting," Angus added.

I opened my mouth to answer, but the large doors at the top of the hall groaned open, their ancient hinges squeaking.

Alex entered first, then mother.

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