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“ H ave ye come to apply for the position of governess?” the Laird asked, seeming irritated.

Governess?

When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Ye dinnae seem old enough, but nay matter. Ye will be tasked with feeding them, grooming them, and tutoring them. Whatever ye may need will be provided within reason. Yer?—”

“Me Laird, I… I believe…” She tried to correct his assumptions, but his cold stare froze her words on her tongue.

“I have had chambers prepared for ye in the same wing as the bairns because I expect ye to be near at all times. Ye will school them in how to write and read, and teach them manners for formal gatherings…”

Mabel shook her head, confused.

Cursed be her inability to speak when she was overwhelmed by nerves. Her heart pounded unsteadily, and her hands shook even as she pictured how her words would sound, coming out of her mouth. A lump formed in her throat, which she struggled and ultimately gave up trying to swallow.

She should have learned that her anxiety would never leave her by now, so all she could do was dance to the tune of whatever was decided for her.

She wished she could have voiced her thoughts to the Laird, but with the fear coursing through her veins, all she could do was allow him to speak.

She could understand his reasons for hiring a governess for the children, and she appreciated the thoughtfulness behind it, but there was no reason for him to think she was one.

For starters, she wasn’t old enough to be considered a spinster or widow, and her garb was nothing of the sort.

Surely his sense of deduction couldn’t be so lacking.

“Me Laird, ye are mistaken. I?—”

“Forgive the interruption, Me Laird,” a maid said, stepping into the room.

“What is it?” the Laird asked sharply.

“Missus Norah asked me to report that the bairns have refused food again,” the maid began. “She is worried they might nae last the night. ‘Tis been too long since they’ve last eaten.”

Mabel’s eyes shot up at that.

They arenae eating?

She tried not to let her worry show, but she wanted to see the children even more than she did before. Anxiety or not, she was going to speak her mind as loudly as she could, even if the effort killed her.

“Well, it seems ye couldnae have chosen a more auspicious moment,” the Laird said, rising from his seat. “Ye will prove yer competence by feeding the boys now. Do ye accept?”

She nodded hastily, remembering that if she appeared too eager, he would grow suspicious. She could explain the situation properly later, but the important thing was to ensure that she at least saw the children alive and well and unharmed.

The Laird eyed her warily before leading the way to their chambers, and her heart pounded all the while.

She tried not to let her eyes wander, but the Laird cut such a fine figure in his clan’s colors as he led her to the boys’ chambers. His thighs were defined in his trews. She had never much cared for backsides, but his looked firm, drawing wanton heat to her cheeks.

To think they were going to see children…

He turned to her briefly, causing her to straighten and try for a beatific look, but she saw a suspicious eyebrow rise and hoped he didn’t catch her.

When Mabel stood before the boys, she was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to cry.

They looked worse than she had expected, but they were every bit as beautiful as Layla had described in the letters.

The last time she had seen them had been at their baptism, and they had been such beautiful babes.

She had taken great risk to sneak out of MacLennan Castle and attend, but seeing the squirming babes in their mother’s arms had been sufficient reward for the danger she had faced and the scolding she had received after missing most of the dinner with Clan Douglas.

She had promised to love them as her own, and now that she had seen them, she would not leave them again.

She looked them over, taking in how much they had grown over the past five years. Their dark hair was curly and wild, and they had the same stubborn jaw as their uncle. But they had their mother’s eyes, a soft brown that drew one in.

She took a step towards them, then remembered she wasn’t alone and turned to the Laird, who watched her suspiciously. The boys gave her the same look, and the similarity between them threatened to coax a smile onto her lips.

They would certainly grow into handsome lads, much like their father had been. She hoped one of them would take their mother’s beautiful features.

“I didnae bring ye here to stare at them,” the Laird said suddenly. “I need ye to feed them.”

She nodded and approached the bed, her heart sinking when they shrank away. She held out a hand, placing the other on her chest.

She eyed the tray that had been placed on the side table, laden with bread and braised fish. She frowned as a memory rose to the fore—Layla had written to her that the boys had a strong aversion to fish.

“May I trouble ye with changing the tray?” she asked, turning to the Laird. “Have them bring some fruit instead. Apples and berries, if there are any in the pantry, with soft bread and milk.”

She smiled when she heard an excited intake of breath behind her, but didn’t turn to look at the children just yet.

The Laird didn’t look pleased by her suggestion, but he nodded, and the maid cleared the tray.

Mabel turned back to the boys but waited uncomfortably for the new tray to be brought in.

She was aware of his eyes on her all the while, and that knowledge caused her breath to hitch as she muttered a silent prayer that they would ultimately not refuse her.

She didn’t know how long they had gone without food, and the thought rattled her to her bones.

The door opened, and the new tray was brought in, which she accepted before turning to the boys.

“Me name is Mabel,” she began. “I have here blueberries and apples, as well as fresh bread and milk. Something tells me ye both like blueberries.”

She attempted a few steps forward and sat on the edge of the bed, tray in hand.

“They are for ye, but if ye dinnae eat, then I will enjoy them,” she said, taking a bite of the apple. “It will be a shame to waste such a lovely morsel.”

“Yer name is Mabel?” Connor asked softly.

Her eyebrows rose at the question, but she nodded.

Their eyes narrowed in concentration and then widened in recognition. No doubt Layla had told the boys about her, and that fact made her smile.

Mabel moved closer to them, knowing they wouldn’t refuse her now.

“What is yer name?” she asked, even though she already knew.

“Connor,” he answered. “Me braither’s name is Ollie.”

“‘Tis verra nice to meet ye both,” she answered.

“Ye’re verra bonny,” he mumbled, hiding his face in his brother’s hair.

She smiled and ruffled his hair, fighting the urge to pull them into her arms.

“Ollie, do ye think I’m bonny too?” she asked, trying to draw the younger boy out of his shell.

Ollie snuck a peek and hid his face again, but she caught a small imperceptible nod.

“Well, if ye both think such, I must thank ye.” She smiled. “But I must also ask ye to eat. As men, ye have to do whatever a bonny lass says.”

Connor wrinkled his nose and nodded. “Me da did whatever me ma said.”

At the mention of their parents, tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away.

“So, ye will eat?” she asked, holding out a piece of fruit to him.

He nodded. But before he could accept the proffered morsel, Ollie’s hand shot out and grabbed it, startling her.

Unable to stop herself, Mabel threw her head back and laughed.

“Ollie, ye must lift yer head to eat,” she chided softly.

She placed the tray in front of them, watching as they ate, her heart warming at the sight.

These children were her responsibility, and for their sakes, she would have to be brave.

When they were done eating, she noticed how drowsy they were and cleared their tray, tucking them into the cot gently.

She turned and started at the look in the Laird’s eyes. But when he opened his mouth to speak, she lifted a finger to her lips to stop him. She didn’t want to wake the sleeping boys.

Heat flooded her, but she couldn’t explain if it was because she felt embarrassed or some other reason. She had been able to ignore his presence in the room when the boys were awake, but now that they were asleep, his stare seemed magnified.

She handed the tray to the maid outside the door and followed him wordlessly to his study.

“Ye have done well with the boys,” he complimented. “The job is yers. When can ye start?”

Squaring her shoulders, she braced herself for the outrage that was sure to come when she revealed the truth.

“I didnae come to be a governess, Me Laird,” she started.

He raised an eyebrow in question.

“I apologize for the deception, but I needed to check that they were doing well,” she added.

His body stiffened, and the air turned dangerously cold in the room as he glared at her.

“Who are ye?” he asked. “Ye should answer truthfully, or ye’ll find yerself in me dungeons.”

“I am Mabel Dunlop, daughter of Laird MacLennan,” she revealed, causing him to stiffen.

“Ye’re a laird’s daughter?” he asked, his jaw slackening.

Was it that hard to believe?

Yes, her dress was simple, but that didn’t mean she didn’t dress for her station.

“Why are ye here unattended?” he asked quickly.

She worried her lip between her teeth and lowered her eyes. She was sure he would be even more displeased when she told him the truth, but she hoped he would be fair and understand her reasoning.

As she told her tale of how she helped Layla escape with Aidan, she didn’t watch his face, not wanting to see his ire. If she did, she was sure the words would not dare escape her throat.

She didn’t leave out any detail, knowing that if she did, he would never trust her with the boys.

“I was present at their baptism, but I havenae seen them since. Layla kept me informed about their lives via letters, so I ken them almost as intimately as she did.”

Her throat was clogged with emotion, but she didn’t want to cry. Not yet. She had forced herself to move beyond her grief for the sake of seeing the children well situated.

“That is how I ken what they can eat and what they love. I sneaked out of MacLennan Castle to ensure that they were doing well, and I am glad I did. I want to care for them and?—”

“I thank ye for the truth, but I willnae have ye cause the boys any more pain,” he interrupted coldly.

“I dinnae intend to cause them any?—”

“What do ye think yer departure will do to them? Ye sneaked out once to see them, and yer family will nay doubt be looking for ye. Will ye be so lucky to sneak out and ride across the Highlands unharmed every time?” he sneered.

“What about when ye decide to marry and start yer own family? They’ve suffered enough with the loss of their parents; they dinnae need to suffer loss again when ye marry and cannae stay with them. ”

“That will hardly be an issue,” she argued. “I can?—”

“Ye cannae do anything. Yer faither will hardly permit yer traipsing around the Highlands. Even this foolhardy trip to me clan will nay doubt cast a shadow over yer reputation, and I willnae have me clan thrust into a war because of yer honor.”

His words made her feel like a foolish child.

“Ye overestimate me faither’s concern for me,” she snapped. “I promised Layla I would take care of her boys, and I intend to do so. Ye willnae get rid of me so easily.”

He growled, and she realized her tone must have irritated him. But she did not care.

“Ye will return to yer family and forget the boys, lass,” he retorted. “Nothing short of ye becoming me wife can change things.”

Her eyes widened at his words, and she lowered her head to hide her blush.

She had never thought of marrying him, but it seemed a most sensible way to get what she wanted.

If she married him, she would be close to the boys and be able to take care of them. She would also be free of her mother’s matchmaking attempts. Still, could she really marry a man she had just met?

He stepped even closer, and her body tightened in anticipation of what she didn’t know. He was so close that she was having difficulty breathing or thinking proper thoughts.

He hooked his hand under her chin, and her eyes shot up to his in surprise.

When had he even moved?

From a distance, his gaze had been fiery, but with the scant space between them, she was rooted to the spot.

Just what was it about this man that made her feel so powerless?

“I dinnae have plans to marry, so ye can put those plans away.”

Mabel tried to draw air into her lungs, but it was difficult with his proximity and the heat that his touch sent through her.

She swallowed, needing to voice her thoughts on the matter.

Marriage to him would mean freedom from her mother’s matchmaking and would keep her closer to the boys, who were her primary concern.

“If marrying ye is the only way to be close to the boys, then I will marry ye,” she answered, stepping back from his grasp. “I dinnae want or need a husband, but for the boys’ sake, I will marry ye. I told ye, I will do anything for them.”

His eyes blazed impossibly hot as he watched her, and impatience tickled her skin, trying to figure out what was going on in his mind.

“Yer love for the bairns is evident, but I dinnae intend to marry, and I wouldnae consider a strange lassie with questionable habits,” he declared finally, shattering the hope that had bloomed in her heart.