She was dithering over the cheeses when she felt someone sidle up to her. She half expected Lennon Mackenzie begging to be relieved of his promise. But it was Mr. Pepper standing beside her, holding a lace handkerchief to his nose, as if he were offended by the smell of breakfast. “Good morrow, Lady Mackenzie,” he said, inclining his head.

“Mr. Pepper.” She returned her attention to the sideboard. “Have you come to ridicule my dancing, too?”

“I don’t consider what they do here to be dancing,” he said primly. “I have heard that the laird has left Balhaire.”

Well, then, Mr. Pepper didn’t miss a thing, did he? “So he has.”

“Where has he gone?”

“He did not say,” she said, and began to pile cheeses onto her plate.

Mr. Pepper watched her. “You are dressed for riding.”

A rather ridiculous observation, seeing as how she clearly already knew she was dressed for riding. “Yes.”

“Where do you mean to ride?” he asked casually.

Margot paused and looked at him. “Why?”

“Why indeed,” he said impatiently. “I am here to ensure your safety. I would not like to see you ride out alone without even a proper dog to accompany you.” He looked meaningfully to his left.

Margot followed his gaze. An old hound with a white muzzle was stretched out on his side near the hearth.

“The laird is quite fond of dogs,” she said coolly. And she thought if Mr. Pepper didn’t care for them, he ought to find lodging elsewhere. She was suddenly reminded of a young dog here at Balhaire who’d been badly injured by a trap that had been set illegally. When the gamekeeper determined the poor dog could not be saved and, furthermore, would suffer in his last hours, she had watched Arran scoop the dog up in his arms and carry him from this very hall with tears on his face.

He’d taken the dog into the woods and mercifully put it out of its misery.

She shivered at the painful recollection of how he’d grieved for the dog.

“I heard the laird departed in the company of several other men. Highland clansmen.”

She glanced curiously at him. Mr. Pepper had a handful of berries and was casually eating them. “He did?”

“You don’t know?” Mr. Pepper asked irritably. “Here now, you must have at least a groom to accompany you. You cannot be too cautious now—”

“I am at home here, Mr. Pepper. I won’t need a dog or groom to accompany me. I mean to call on a friend who might have something to tell me.” She arched a brow. “But she won’t tell me a thing if I come in the company of anyone.”

Mr. Pepper popped another berry in his mouth, shrewdly assessing her.

“But thank you kindly for your concern for my safety.” She moved down the sideboard, ending the conversation.