Page 30 of Taken By the Highland Villain

The idea made her feel somewhat cold inside, but even so, she could think of no other way to live with the situation, or with herself.

Jude was absent when she arrived to break her fast. Valerie ate quickly. Then, after consideration, she called for Moira to bring her materials. The Great Hall had large windows and plenty oflight. It was ideal for her work in that regard, even if she would have preferred a smaller, more private room to do her sewing.

She’d been working for perhaps half an hour when the door opened and Jude stomped inside. Valerie noted his arrival but kept her focus on her sewing. She thought she saw him stop, brow creasing as if he was puzzled by her silence, but he didn’t say anything, and neither did she.

Moira brought his morning meal, then came to offer Valerie a cup of tea. Valerie accepted it and drank, but kept her gaze firmly on her work.

She could feel Jude’s silence and the heat of his gaze, but she made no effort to look up or make conversation—not even to offer a greeting. She feared that even a single word might unravel her resolve like a torn piece of canvas caught on a nail.

She was working through the design of a kilt when Craig entered the room and came to her. “Miss Blackwood, I have a message for ye, from a Lady MacAllister.”

“Lady MacAllister?” Valerie blinked.

The name sounded familiar to her, but she couldn’t place it.

“Aye, Lady Ailsa, wife to Laird MacAllister. She’s heard of yer skill as a seamstress, and she said she heard from her kinfolk that ye were here. Her husband’s clan shares a border with ours, and she asked if ye could pay her a visit afore ye return home.”Craig’s voice was calm, but there was something in his eyes, a spark that made Valerie feel he wanted her to accept.

She was hardly going to refuse, especially when another commission might mean another excuse to avoid Laird MacOlley’s demands for a little longer.

“Aye. I can go. Nae today, of course, but mayhap tomorrow or the day after.”

“Of course. I’ll send a message back to her at once.” Craig gave her a short bow, then made his way to the head table to join his Laird.

The two of them left shortly after, and Valerie was left to work in peace. She worked diligently, tracing out and cutting out patterns for kilts, trews, leggings, and shirts, as well as measuring out fabric for curtains with Moira’s help.

She worked throughout the day, changing positions as needed, only stopping to eat the noon meal Moira brought her, until the sun set and supper time arrived, along with Craig and Jude.

She could feel Jude’s inquiring gaze when she took the seat on Craig’s side, but he asked no questions, and she offered no explanations. By the time she finished her meal and left the table, the silence was nearly suffocating, but her resolve remained untested and unbroken.

The following morning passed in much the same way. She finished her meal before Jude arrived, and worked in silence while he ate, until he left to attend to whatever business awaited him. Then, she spread out her fabrics and continued to work.

She had finished several sets of curtains, though she and Moira would need to find a way to put them up, and was working on Jude’s clothing when Moira came to stand beside her.

“Miss Blackwood, is the light all right? The Laird said ye needed plenty of light.”

Valerie smiled at the older woman. “It is adequate for me.”

Moira chuckled. “Adequate isnae the same as good, and well I ken it, Miss Blackwood. If ye like, there’s a gallery in the north wing, on an upper floor. It gets light throughout the day through many large windows, and the light at this time of day is some of the best in the castle.”

Valerie blinked. “Are ye sure the Laird willnae mind?”

“Of course he willnae. Rarely anyone goes up there, including the Laird. It is a shame nae to use the space—I’ve already dusted the table and carried the other fabrics and yer spare tools up there.”

Valerie chuckled. “All right, I’m convinced.”

She rose and gathered her work, tucking it into her basket and apron as necessary before she followed Moira upstairs.

The room the maid led her to was one she hadn’t seen before, but she could see at once what Moira was talking about. Large windows filled the spaces between the portraits, facing east, west, and north. The result was an open, well-lit space, perfect for a seamstress.

It was almost like being outside, except there was no danger of sun sickness, no wind trying to steal her thread, and no interruption by the rain.

Something caught her eye, and she turned her head, facing the portrait of a man on the nearby wall. Though the man himself was unfamiliar, there was something about the shade of his hair, the line of his jaw, and the color of his eyes that was stunningly familiar.

“The Laird’s faither. A good man, and a stern one. The current Laird takes after him.” Moira’s remark startled her.

“He looks… young.”

Young and carefree with a smile that softened his features in a manner she couldn’t imagine seeing on Jude.