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prefer to get to the ruins as soon as possible,” she said stiffly. “I must make my plans for excavation.”
    Despite her refusal, Coll continued about his tasks, pouring two cups of tea and setting other small containers on the table. “Those ruins have been there for hundreds of years. I imagine they could wait another ten minutes.” He sat down, pushing the basket toward her. “Eat. Better to work on a full stomach.”
    Violet clenched her teeth. Munro was clearly not going anywhere until he’d eaten. It was irritating, but it would be useless to argue with him. She could not force him to go, and losing the argument would only make her appear weak. Besides, what he had said was perfectly reasonable. And the scones looked delicious.
    She perched on the chair across the table from him, pouring a bit of milk into her tea. The drink was hot and strong, and a pot of honey provided sweetness. Violet could not quite suppress a sigh of satisfaction after it slid down her throat.
    Coll’s eyes danced. “Wait till you’ve tasted the scones.”
    Violet suspected uneasily that he was laughing at her, and she had no idea how to respond. She had never been good at making conversation. Her mother could chat for ten minutes without ever really saying anything, but she had been unable to instill that ability in her daughter.
    There were no plates, no utensils, so she followed Coll’s lead and simply plucked one of the scones from the basket, breaking off a piece and putting it in her mouth. The bread was a delightful combination of tastes, at once buttery anddry, sweet but with a twinge of tartness. It was, in short, as close to perfection as a bread could be. Violet couldn’t hold back a smile.
    â€œDinna I tell you?” Coll asked with a chuckle.
    Such good humor was in his tone that Violet’s smile turned into a laugh as well. “Yes, you were right. Miss—McEwan, was it?—makes delicious scones. You are lucky to have such a generous friend.” She was blatantly fishing for information, but Violet was too curious to be polite. There seemed to be a number of women in Munro’s life.
    â€œYou’re lucky, too. Sally is the cook at Duncally. You’ll eat her food every day. As do I—she takes pity on me, poor bachelor that I am, and lets me sup with them up at the house.”
    â€œOh. I will see you at supper tonight then.” Violet suppressed the fizz of anticipation in her chest.
    â€œNae. Mrs. Ferguson will serve you in the dining room. She’s a stickler for propriety, that one. She wouldna put a lady at the table in the servants’ hall.”
    â€œWhy? I work for Lord Mardoun, the same as you.”
    â€œAh, but your name has a Lady before it, and that makes all the difference.”
    â€œIt shouldn’t.”
    â€œAye?” His brows rose lazily. “Then why did you use it last night?”
    Violet grimaced. “You are right, of course. It was expedient. I did not want to lose the opportunity to explore the ruins.”
    â€œNow dinna turn to starch again. I dinna mean to insult you.”
    â€œI’m sorry. I was unaware I had ‘turned to starch.’ It sounds a most uncomfortable state. But I am reminded ofmy purpose here, which is not to sit about having tea and scones. I should be at the site.”
    â€œWe’ll go, then.” Coll downed the rest of his tea in one swallow. But at that moment, a knock came at the door, and with a sigh Coll went to answer it.
    A young man stood on the porch. “Coll, I came to ask—” He glanced past Coll into the house and saw Violet. His eyes widened comically. “Oh! I dinna ken—I’m sorry, miss, uh, ma’am, um . . .” His face flooded with red, and he whipped off his cap, bobbing his head toward Violet.
    Following the young man’s gaze, Coll stiffened, his expression suddenly so guilty that Violet was sure he had