Page 25 of Enlightened

“That’s just it, though,” Murdo said. “Most people don’t worry about it all that much. Most people are adept at convincing themselves that what they want—what suits them—is right. Or at least, that it isn’t really wrong.” He smiled. “I’madept at that.”

David sipped his ale. “I really don’t think I’m as principled as you imagine,” he said at last. “Over the last year or two, my views on certain things have altered significantly—in ways that have suited me very well.”

Murdo’s gaze gentled. “If you’re talking about us, I know you didn’t alter your view without a struggle. In fact, I know you still struggle with it, still question yourself.” He paused, then added, “I know that, even now, when you give yourself to me, you hold a part of yourself back.”

David’s heart clenched at that, and at that bleak look in the other man’s eyes. What Murdo said was true, but he hadn’t realised Murdo knew it.

“I feel as though—” Murdo began, then stopped, seeming to debate with himself whether to continue. When he started up again, his tone was careful. “I feel as though we’re fighting over that part of you. I want you to give it up, give it to me. But you’re still not convinced that what we have together is—right. And I don’t know what I can do to convince you.”

“Murdo—”

The knock at the door was different this time, harder, with a flourishing rhythm at the end,tat-tat-te-tat-tat.

They glanced at one another, both frustrated by the interruption. “Come in,” Murdo called out.

It was Foster this time, with Peggy trailing behind him, a clean tablecloth over her arm and a miserable expression on her plump face.

“Your Lordship requested a clean tablecloth?” Foster said with unctuous smile.

Murdo gave the little man a long look, before he confirmed. “I did,” he said. “And that you proceed to burn this one, if you please.” He flicked a disdainful finger at the stained one.

“Of course,” Foster assured him, and began to remove the silverware from the table before adding casually, “I must apologise for Peggy’s clumsiness.”

He had guessed it was the girl, David realised, and had come to prod out the truth.

He had made a grave error.

“Ibegyour pardon?” Murdo’s incredulous voice was pure ice.

Foster stilled in what he was doing and looked up. Seeing the expression on Murdo’s face, he swallowed hard.

“Whatexactlydo you mean by that comment?” Murdo demanded.

“I was merely apologising, my lord,” Foster said, licking his lips nervously. “I’ve no doubt the girl caused you to spill the gravy, and I wanted to assure you—”

“What did she tell you?” Murdo demanded.

It was plain that Foster took Murdo’s swift question as evidence that his suspicions were warranted—his eyes gleamed with triumph. “Merely that, my lord. That you spilled the gravy and wanted a new tablecloth.”

“And to add the cost of the ruined one to my bill?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you bothering me?”Murdo roared at him, eyes flashing and nostrils flaring with temper.

Foster quaked in the face of Murdo’s impressive anger, while Peggy, who stood behind the innkeeper, looked at the floor, biting her lip against a tiny smile.

“Perhaps,” Murdo went on, “you think to chidemefor my clumsiness? Is that it? Are these apologies a backhanded way of giving me a scold?”

“No! No, my lord! I would not presume to criticise!” the innkeeper babbled.

“I’ve already said I’ll pay for a new tablecloth. Is that not enough for you?”

“My lord, it is mostgenerous,” Foster went on, his expression growing more horrified by the second. “I did not intend to suggest that your spilling gravy was in any way careless.”

Murdo waved him away impatiently. “Enough of this. Pray, leave us.” He gestured to Peggy. “And you, girl, attend to the table, if you please.” Then, entirely ignoring Foster, he turned to David and began to talk about, of all things, horses.

Foster slunk away, while Peggy began to clear the remaining dishes to the sideboard. Once the door had closed behind Foster and a minute or two had passed, Murdo turned to the girl again.