Page 37 of A Highland Bride Taken

She opened the door and stepped inside, all her rehearsed speech flying to the four winds when she met his eyes.

He was sitting behind his desk, which was overflowing with correspondence. His linen shirt hung open at the collar, and the sleeves were folded back to reveal a bronzed forearm peppered with hair. His hair was slightly tousled, evidence that he had run his hand through it many times—possibly in frustration.

A smile formed on her lips at the thought of this tightly controlled man giving in to frustration.

She decided he looked even more irresistible when he was disheveled. In fact, she would have very much loved to be the cause of his disheveled appearance. Even now, her hands itched to touch his hair. To see if it was as soft as it looked, or if it was prickly like his owner.

When her eyes met the stunning blue of his, she realized that she had spent quite some time ogling him shamelessly. She could feel a blush of mortification rise to her cheeks.

“Did ye require anything from me, Me Lady?” he asked, curiosity creasing his brow.

“Huh?” she muttered dumbly, completely forgetting why she had come into his study in the first place.

His frown deepened, and she could see that he was impatient to return to the papers before him.

“We are blessed with good weather today,” she tried. “I thought ye might want to enjoy it with the bairns. They have been itching to go outside.”

In response, the Laird turned his head to look out the window.

He had said he wanted to get closer to the bairns, and what better way than to do it where they couldn’t be bothered by the stares of the clansmen?

“I didnae realize that the sun was already that high in the sky,” he said, looking back at the paperwork in front of him ruefully. “I wouldnae mind spending some time with the bairns, but I have a lot to do.”

He then looked up, steely determination in his eyes. “Inform the cook; she will provide everything ye need for the picnic. I’ll try to finish me work within the hour.”

He turned back to the papers on his desk, effectively dismissing her.

Not wishing to disturb him, Mabel backed out of the study, closing the door behind her. She leaned against the smooth surface and heaved a sigh of relief in an effort to rid herself of the tension that seemed to plague her whenever she was in her husband’s company.

In the hope of distracting herself, she moved to the nursery, where she was welcomed with squeals of delight.

Connor and Ollie clung to her skirts excitedly.

“We didnae see ye when we broke our fast this morning,” Connor complained, tilting his little head back so he could fix her with an accusatory look.

“I am terribly sorry, lads,” she said, lowering herself to her knees so they were at eye level. “I woke up later than usual. I promise I have something very interesting planned for today.”

She gave a mischievous grin to pique their curiosity, and they bounced on their heels.

“What did ye plan?” Connor asked.

“‘Tis a secret,” she intoned, suppressing a giggle at the gleam in their eyes.

“Tell us!” Ollie cried.

“Please!” Connor added.

“Aye. Aye. Alright.” She nodded. “Will ye promise to eat all yer food today? Even yer porridge?”

They were picky with their food, and they especially hated porridge, which she needed them to eat to gain the weight they had lost.

“Ye ken we dinnae like porridge, Aunt Mabel.”

“Then I willnae tell ye,” she said with a pout.

They hugged her skirts tighter and nodded.

“We will eat our porridge,” they promised.