Faye’s stomach gave a growl of hunger in reply. Despite the many miles she’d walked the day before in her bid to escape her grandfather, she’d eaten little more than a few bites of bread and meat. She could have eaten more in the room with Ewan, but then he’d started asking so many questions. Wanting to know her.
What they’d done instead had been far more appealing. Indeed, the recollection made a sensual heat warm between her thighs.
Faye covered her stomach with her hand and gave a little laugh at her apparent hunger. “I think porridge would be fine. Thank ye.”
Gavina gave a good-natured grin. “I’ll see to that for ye straight away.”
Within the hour, Gavina had Faye’s stomach filled with food, and she’d been thoroughly bathed and washed in a tub of rose-scented hot water and laced into a fresh kirtle. Unfortunately, the garment Moiré had kindly lent her was as ill-fitting as the nightrail had been.
Gavina tsked over the short hem with a frown. “I’ll have yer kirtle from yesterday washed and repaired by the morrow. For now, I can let loose the hem and measure ye for some new garments.”
She set to work nipping the stitches from the bottom of the kirtle with a pair of sharp-tipped scissors, then took down a number of measurements. She was just finishing when a knock came from the door.
“Mistress Faye,” a woman on the opposite side said. “’Tis Moiré.”
“Ye may enter,” Faye called.
The door opened, and Ewan’s cousin stepped in. “Good morrow. I hope ye slept well.” A blush crept over her face as she appeared to realize her words and recall how the prior evening had been Faye’s wedding night.
“Ewan remains occupied most of his day,” Moiré said. “I’m to show ye the castle and the tasks ye’ll need to know as mistress here.”
Mistress? Of an entire castle? A sliver of trepidation crept over Faye. Never once in all of this had she considered she would be charged with the welfare of so many.
She kept a smile on her face and inclined her head gratefully. “That would be wonderful. Thank ye.”
Moiré approached, her eyes sparkling, and took Faye’s hands. “I should so like for us to be friends. Ewan is like a brother to me, but I’ve no’ ever had a sister.” Her shoulders lifted in excitement. “I’ve always wanted one.”
Faye nodded with a plastered smile, unsure of what to say to this woman she didn’t know. She needed no additional sisters. Not when she already had two. And a brother. And a mum. All of whom were most likely beside themselves with worry at her disappearance.
The agony of their fear for her had been a constant companion during her journey to her grandfather’s castle, just as it continued to linger in the back of her thoughts even now.
Gavina straightened with a triumphant smile. “It’s no’ perfect, but it’ll do fine for a day.”
Faye looked down at her skirt, where the hem had been let out. A folded line showed two inches above the rough edge. It made her remember when Mum had done the same to all their hems when they were girls to make their kirtles last a few months more. When they’d had no food, no coin. Nothing but each other.
And now she had not even that.
“I should like to compose a letter to my family.” Her voice caught, but she swallowed down her emotion. She would not cry in front of these strangers. She would yield her control and power to no one. Never again.
“Of course.” Moiré’s pretty brows turned up with concern. “They must be so worried about ye.” She pulled at Faye’s hand with the same eagerness Kinsey used to when they were younger. “We’ll go to the solar first so that ye can write yer missive.”
Faye nodded and tried to keep her melancholy from being so apparent. After all, even if a runner left that afternoon with the message, he would not arrive in Castleton for at least three weeks, if not a month.
A familiar hurt settled in Faye’s heart and worked its way up the back of her throat, squeezing until she could scarce breathe. Moiré chattered on as she led Faye through a complicated maze of corridors that would take some time to learn. Faye was grateful for her companion’s incessant chatter, for it gave her time to compose herself to speak again without erupting in tears.
She wished Ewan were free to be with her, to kiss her and stroke her. His touch made her lose herself in mindless need, where painful thoughts of her home could not reach her.
Because she could no longer let herself think of the stone manor in Castleton or the people she loved there, for doing so would surely cause her to break.
Ewan skimmed the peace negotiations drawn up that day between the Sutherland and Ross clans. Ewan had kept the bastard from Faye intentionally and was glad for his decision to do so. Faye’s grandfather left after they’d both signed it, although only after insisting on being shown the stained sheets from their marital bed.
His hand tightened into a fist now with regret. He should have killed the bastard outright when he’d threatened Faye’s sister. They were already on the brink of war anyway.
The door to Ewan’s solar pushed open, and Moiré appeared. “Did it go well with the Ross clan?” she asked.
“Well enough,” Ewan muttered.
“Do ye think they can be trusted?” She approached the desk and peered down at the document in Ewan’s hands.
“We can hope.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, but it did little to stave off his oncoming headache. “How has yer da taken the news?”
Moiré tilted her head in consideration. “I went to his manor earlier today. He’s inclined to
