Domnall didn’t follow them, instead, standing at the entrance to the dining room, staring at her.
Staring so long in silence, it unnerved her.
His right forefinger tapped on the side of his leg against his black trousers. “The doctor reported to us that Maggie should recover, or was he being overly optimistic?”
“I think she will be better. Her breathing has been much more even today and she opened her eyes and almost seemed to recognize me—it’s been days since that has happened.”
“And you?”
“Me what?” Her eyebrows lifted.
“You were up all night tending to her, weren’t ye? And then all day?”
“I—yes, for a good portion of the night and the day. How did you know?”
“You’re tired—and hungry.” His look ran down her body along the simple black wool dress that the housekeeper had found, and back up again. “I can see it in your face. In your eyes.”
She really should have glanced in the mirror. Her hands went to her face and she rubbed her fingers under her eyes to try and perk up her skin.
He reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her motion. “You’re as beautiful as ever. Don’t worry on how you look. The true reason I know you’re tired is because every time I peeked into Maggie’s room last night and today, ye were at a vigil by her bedside.”
“You looked in? I didn’t hear you.”
“You may not remember, but I can be stealthy.” The corner of his lips twitched. “I didn’t want to disturb. She is fortunate to have you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I am the fortunate one. She has been steadfast and loyal to me throughout the years.”
He turned to the side and pointed into the dining room. “There is still plenty of food. My men just wanted to eat early as they were out all day in the barns and clearing the snow and were ravenous.”
Karta nodded, starting to move past him. A mistake, for he still filled most of the entryway and didn’t move.
It wasn’t until she was squished to the side and had to brush against him that she realized her error.
His heat.
The shock of heat from him that had always overwhelmed her and filled her body with a hunger for him that took her breath away. It encapsulated her, tightening her chest, sending her heart pounding.
For what she had admitted to him last night—how he broke her heart—she didn’t want this. Didn’t want his attention. Didn’t want his words. Didn’t want his heat.
She wanted the cold comfort of the drafts. Of the safety of the chill far, far away from him.
She could already feel her hatred for him waning and while she knew she should hold steadfast to it, stoking the coals of animosity was hard when he had just saved her life. And Maggie’s life.
Her foot darted out fast and long, and she jumped past him, moving quickly into the dining room.
“Do ye mind if I join ye?”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “It’s not necessary on my account. I’m accustomed to eating in solitude.”
His eyebrow cocked. “Solitude?”
She nodded, not willing to say the word again for how pathetic she realized it sounded. But she had eaten alone for years. In her father’s home. In her husband’s home. Long, grand tables with only one place setting.
“It is for me, truth told.” He stepped back into the room with her. “I didn’t eat as much as the men, for I wanted them to fill their bellies first. I stayed inside all day, shuffling through the mess of papers that was left with the estate, so I wasn’t as hungry. But then Cook appeared with another full platter of roasted grouse just as they were finishing. So there is plenty for all.”
Karta smiled. “Your cook is already proving her worth with the new master. Feeding hungry Scots is not an easy task.”
He chuckled. “No, no, it is not. They’ve all more than earned their keep, the staff that is here. Especially for opening up the house as quickly as they did last night. There’s nary a cold spot left in the abbey.”