4
“Related to McKenna. . .” I spat out under my breath as I followed at a safe distance. “What poppycock.”
Mrs. Greer, who had traveled as far as the bottom of the steps, joined me by my side and looped her arm through one of mine.
“Trust the laird to know what he’s doing,” she whispered to me.
I frowned at her. “When he insults me so?” I hissed.
“He means well,” she insisted.
I dearly wanted to ask her about this strange charade, but we reached the interior of the entrance hall and no amount of whispering could conceal our conversation. The luggage followed behind us, and soon we four stood in the center of the hall. A servant removed Lady Stewart’s coat and she shook the snow out of her hair.
“Oh, how wonderful your home is! So much different than the drafty castle Charles ca
