Page 34 of The Lyon’s Lass

Chapter Fifteen

Maisy might have napped next to Iain if not for her corset. It was not something easy to have sex in but they’d managed. Sleeping, however, would be near impossible.

Eventually she gave in and went to her own room where she called for Abigail to come put her back to rights.

“I’m afraid there’s not to be done with the gown, mistress. We’ll have to change you for dinner a bit early.”

“Very well,” Maisy agreed.

“How did it become so wrinkled again?”

“It was a fierce wind.” As lying went, Maisy was not so good at it.

“My. I hadn’t even realized you’d gone out for a stroll.” Abigail tutted and then gasped. “And you have a bruise. Here on your neck.”

“Right. It was a nut from a tree. Probably a squirrel.”

If she was going to keep lying to her maid about her adventures with her husband, she should probably come up with some better lies beforehand.

Once she was properly clothed, she went back to the study and straightened up some things. For all the activity that happened in this room, it was not so worse for the wear.

If Iain hadn’t come when he had, things might have ended differently.

In fact, Mr. Garrow seemed overly put out with someone touching these ledgers. She opened the one she’d been working on before he’d entered and determined she knew why he wouldn’t want anyone to see them.

“This is the second time in the same day I’ve woken to find you gone,” Iain said from the door. She jumped, still a bit rattled from what had happened earlier in the day.

“I’m sorry to have startled you. Are you well?”

“Yes. It’s just I hope that’s the last I ever see of Mr. Garrow.”

“Everyone has been told he is not to be granted entry into the castle any longer. It seems he was not well liked by the staff so you shouldn’t have any further problems with him.”

When he was gone, he meant.

He didn’t say it, but she understood. She wanted to ask when he would leave, or if he might stay longer. Or forever. But she’d signed on for this and she wouldn’t turn back on their agreement now.

“Mr. Garrow is not just a poor steward and a violent sot. He’s also a thief.”

“Really? How do you know?” Iain came closer, his brows pulled together.

Maisy turned the book to point at the place where it became evident the numbers were wrong. Iain frowned and she remembered he might not see what she was attempting to show him.

“Sorry. It’s not balancing. The amount that was taken in from the harvest last year is marked wrong in the ledger. It was shorted by two-hundred pounds. He also marked that seed was purchased for five hundred pounds, but the receipt says it only cost three hundred.”

“That blighter is shorting the books. That’s why the castle has not been able to sustain itself. It’s why I was forced to marry.”

Maisy winced as if he’d struck her. She knew what he said was the truth, but she’d thought after last night and this afternoon he might not be so upset about their marriage. Or at least that he didn’t feel forced into it.

But of course it wouldn’t have changed anything between them. His love was the sea. It would never be her. She didn’t even have the right to be angry. He’d done nothing wrong.

“It seems it’s time I make my acquaintance with the constable. I will not let this stand.”

Maisy wanted to point out that taking such action would be fruitless. Surely a man such as Mr. Garrow had already used the funds he’d stolen, likely on drink, and getting the law involved would only cause Mr. Garrow to seek retribution.

When she said as much he seemed surprised.

“I can’t allow him to move on to another property, another family where he would drain their funds and wreak havoc as he’s done here.”