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disheveled appearance.
    â€œI thought I heard someone out here. Ye did nae get into too much trouble, did ye?”
    â€œIf you consider trouble as sleeping in my father’s chair in the study, then yes, I’m afraid that I’ve been badly behaved.”
    His smile brought an immediate softening to his features. “Everyone knows that I got ye into your cups this eve. Your sisters would’ve had my head if something had befallen ye. At least ye’re here and did nae wake up in a strange place like the barn.”
    She regarded him with a speculative gaze. “Speaking from experience, Laird Munro?”
    â€œOch, aye. Although I’ve ended up in more dire situations than a barn, I’m afraid. Oidhche mhath , Lady Elizabeth.”
    â€œGood night, Laird Munro.”
    She continued down the hall to her chamber and gently closed the door behind her. For a moment, she glanced around her room and then donned her nightrail, climbed into bed, and blew out the candle.
    A loud sigh escaped her. She couldn’t believe how wonderful she felt laying in her own bed. If she were being honest with herself, she’d have to say that she was at ease being home again under the same roof where her father and mother had raised her. Although it was difficult, she remembered a time when there were no tartans, no men in kilts, no brawny Highland lairds, and no Scotland. Life was so much simpler then.
    Elizabeth had spent weeks thinking about her future, realizing perhaps it was time to go back to the place where her life had begun. She closed her eyes, needing to rest, because on the morrow, her sisters weren’t going to like what she had to say.
    * * *
    At least some of Ian’s worries were over because the women would not be underfoot. The lasses were taking their leave to Apethorpe Hall for at least a fortnight, and he would be traveling with the men to court. The sooner he paid homage to his liege, the faster he’d be back on Munro lands—free of the English.
    He descended the stairs to break his fast, wondering how Walsingham had managed to live in this manor house with a wife and four daughters. Although Ian had never met the man, he held a great degree of respect for him. Any man who could survive in close quarters with five lasses under the same roof was a brave soul. When he entered the great hall, Kat, Torquil, Fagan, and Grace sat quietly at the table. The smell of oatmeal invaded Ian’s senses, and he pulled out a chair.
    â€œ Madainn mhath ,” said Fagan. Good morning.
    â€œAye.” Ian had just placed his arse in the seat when Grace spoke.
    â€œI know you were only trying to help Elizabeth last night, but—”
    â€œGrace…” Fagan warned.
    Ian scowled. “’Tis too early in the morn to hear the cackling hens.” When Grace huffed, he looked at Fagan and shrugged. “Ye need to rein in your woman.”
    â€œNow you listen to me you big—”
    â€œWhat did you do for Elizabeth?” asked Kat.
    Torquil tapped Kat on the hand. “This does nae concern ye. Break your fast.”
    â€œI heard my name. Is everything all right?” Elizabeth pulled out a chair across from Ian and beside Grace.
    â€œHow are you feeling this morning? I was worried about you,” said Grace, placing her hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder.
    â€œI’m fine.” Elizabeth waved her sister off. “If you’re talking about finding me in father’s study, it was nothing. Are Ruairi and Ravenna with Mary this morn?”
    â€œYes. We’ll need to start packing soon. Ravenna wants to leave for Apethorpe Hall on the morrow after we break our fast,” said Grace.
    â€œI’m not coming with you.”
    Ian raised his eyes from his oatmeal and studied Elizabeth. Perhaps he should pick up his meal and run while he still had a chance to eat in peace. Fagan’s wife had a venomous tongue on a good day. He hoped to hell