Some women might get off on a guy being attracted to her against his “better sense,” but I found it insulting that anyone would think being attracted to me was a bad thing. I wasn’t a big reader, but we’d read Pride and Prejudice in school, and it was one of the few books I reread every Christmas. In that moment, I got Elizabeth Bennet in a way I hadn’t before. Her rejection of Mr. Darcy was so much more understandable now: “I might as well enquire why, with so evident a design of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character?”
Yeah. I get you, girl. It does not feel good at all.
“You don’t have to wait with me,” I said.
“Yes, I do. I need to explain to the member of my staff what is required of her.”
“Ah, yeah, you do like to manage folks, don’t you?”
“I’m not going to let you goad me today, Ms. Penhaligon.”
So we were back to that, were we? “That wasn’t goading. You remind me of a hen, clucking at her little chicks, pushing them around the pen so they’re exactly where you want them to be.”
As I knew he would be, Lachlan was affronted by the comparison. He opened his mouth, perhaps to retaliate, but there was a knock on his office door. Cutting me a dark look, he called, “Come in.”
Sarah McCulloch opened the door, but I could only see her head. Her eyes were wide. “Sir?”
“Sarah, please come in.”
The shy mouse pushed into the office but hovered near the doorway.
“This is Robyn Penhaligon. She’s helping Mac with our little problem.”
Little problem? Right. How would my father, the one with the three knife wounds in his gut, feel about that description of the situation?
Having not slept because someone violated my space, referring to the situation as a “little problem” made me bristle.
“Ms. Penhaligon would like to ask you a few questions. Please take a seat, answer what you can. I’ll leave you to it.”
He was gone before I could speak, brushing past the blushing housemaid.
I studied her, thinking how awful it must be to be so shy and to have your every thought advertised across your face in a bright red flush. Giving her a small smile, I motioned to the chairs in front of Lachlan’s desk. Unlike her boss, I would ask her permission first. “You’re not required to do this. But if you want to chat with me, please have a seat.”
Sarah nodded, wide-eyed, and sat. The housekeeping uniforms at Ardnoch were pretty modern, in contradiction to the other more traditional staff uniforms I’d seen. Lachlan’s housekeepers wore jet-black tunics and black work pants. The tunic collar was red tartan, and the short sleeves had tartan cuffs. Sarah’s dark blond hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, and she wore very little makeup on her pretty face. Taking the seat across from her, I noted the way she twisted her hands nervously in her lap.
She did not give off murderous-stalker vibes, but I’d learned a long time ago not to be surprised by anything.
“How long have you worked at Ardnoch Castle, Sarah?”
“Um … about three years now.”
“And you enjoy it?”
She nodded.
“What age are you?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Jesus, she looked a lot younger than that. “You’re aware of the incidents that have occurred, including Mac’s attack?”
She blanched. “Yes. I’m glad he’s okay. Mr. Galbraith is a lovely man.”
If she was lying, she was good. “Do you know anything about the incidents?”
“No. I already told the police that,” she whispered.
“And there’s no reason you know of that anyone would want to harm Lachlan or those close to him?”
Sarah shook her head frantically.
I pressed. “It’s common knowledge there’s bad blood between the McCullochs and the Adairs. Yet you took a job here?”
I noted the edge of defiance creep into her expression, and it gave me pause.
“That has nothing to do with me. I needed a well-paid job, and Mr. Adair offered me one. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
Deciding to use a different tactic, I relaxed back in my chair. “Yeah, it seems like a cushy position. Hanging out around famous people.”
“Cleaning up after them, you mean.”
There was that edge again.
Yeah, Sarah McCulloch had some hidden fire. Not surprising, considering who her grandfather was.
“Still, working for an attractive ex-Hollywood actor must be exciting.” I stared at her pointedly, letting her know her crush was obvious without saying so.
She flushed a horrific orange-red that made me feel all kinds of guilty, but I was there to do a job. “I would never hurt anyone,” she snapped, tears glistening in her eyes. “I wouldn’t work here if I hated Mr. Adair. I don’t care that the Adairs stole our land. It was centuries ago.”