“I have put us away from everyone by taking these rooms. I am too far from my husband. How can I possibly be expected to repair anything when I am, for all intents and purposes, in another house altogether?”

Nell looked as if she might collapse.

“Now, Nell,” she said, taking her maid’s hand and caressing it. “I know you’ve done quite a lot of work. But I will tell you in confidence that my husband is displeased with me for having ever left Balhaire, and he means to send me back to England straightaway. I can’t allow that to happen.” Not yet, anyway.

“Aye, milady,” Nell said morosely.

As Nell began to work to repack her things, Margot went in search of Fergus to inform him she would be changing rooms. She found the older man in the great room, overseeing the preparations for the evening meal. He tried to avoid her gaze as she walked in, but Margot knew what he was about and stopped him with a cheerful, “Good afternoon, Fergus.”

“Milady.”

“I thank you for airing out my old rooms on such short notice. But I’ve decided that I should like to be closer to my husband. Would you please ready the sitting room and dressing room adjacent to the master’s chambers? Nell is packing my things.”

Fergus blinked. And then his eyes narrowed on her. “Next to the laird,” he said, as if she’d misspoke.

“Yes, that’s right,” she said calmly. “Next to my husband. Good heavens, you do look alarmed, Fergus. Will it help if I give you my word I’ll not murder him in the night?”

Fergus’s eyes narrowed more. “No, it doesna help. I canna do so without speaking to the laird himself, aye?”

“Of course you can!” she said cheerfully. “Because I am mistress here. And besides, I’ve already spoken to him, and he was pleased with my decision.”

Fergus’s eyes narrowed into little slits. “I donna think—”

“Do as the lady asks,” said a deep male voice from behind Margot.

She should have known Jock would be lurking somewhere close by. Wasn’t he always? She glanced over her shoulder. “There you are,” she said. “I had begun to fret you’d gone missing.”

“Go, then,” Jock said to Fergus.

“That was unexpectedly helpful of you,” Margot said as Fergus went on.

“No’ at all. It’s a wee sight easier to keep an eye on you there than in your tower, aye?”

“So you may think, my friend,” Margot said, and walked away from his piercing gaze.

Unfortunately, with no occupation, no task, no role to play, Margot found herself in the bailey once more. She had no idea where she was going, but she lifted her chin and walked through.

No one stopped her. Most hardly noticed her—that, or they were taking great pains to avoid looking at her.