7
Lady Stewart resumed her place on his arm and we three returned to the house. The warmth of the fire in the dining room was much appreciated, but I looked warily around us at the dark corners that inhabited the room. Lady Stewart floated around the room and her eyes swept over the large hearth and fine table and chairs.
“You really must convince Laird Stewart to follow your taste in furniture. He still holds the middle ages as a high point in fashion,” she bemoaned.
“We each have our own tastes,” Moray philosophically commented as he joined me on the other side of the wide hearth. In his hands was a glass of wine. “Would you like some refreshment?” he asked me.
I shook my head and rubbed my hands together. “I am fine,” I assured him.
“Wouldn’t it be grand to meet the White Lad
