“He seems like someone who would get frustrated easily, though. Is that true?”
Catherine just blinked at her, shaking her head. “I daenae ken what ye mean.”
“He seems like the type of man who would be easily annoyed,” Emilie explained, trying to keep her tone light and probing. “What kind of things annoy him?”
“Ye want to know how to annoy the Laird?” Catherine asked, cocking her head to the side.
She’s too close to the truth.
Emilie shook her head, immediately backtracking.
“I daenae want to annoy him,” she amended, an idea coming to her as she spoke. “I want to learn how to nae annoy him. I want to make sure I stay on me husband’s good side. Cannae have him wantin’ to annul the marriage.”
She forced herself to laugh, the sound coming out more than a little fake. Catherine gave her a curious look. But thankfully, it was not the young woman’s job to question her lady.
Catherine did not speak for a moment, and Emilie worried that she had gone too far.
I’ve revealed too much. I shouldnae have said that, I shouldnae?—
“I suppose that makes sense,” Catherine said finally, giving a small nod of approval. “The Laird has always seemed to nae have much patience for those that talk a lot. From what I’ve witnessed, he prefers conversations that are to the point.”
Emilie nodded, taking it all in.
“He doesnae suffer fools lightly,” Catherine continued, really getting herself going now.
She was talking quickly, as fast as she had been when they had been walking to the dining room, and Emilie was thankful for it. It saved her from having to respond too much.
“All the older maids, they talk about how much he studied when he was younger,” Catherine continued. “So, he is very smart. And he doesnae have patience for those who are fools.”
Emilie just nodded along, allowing the words that Catherine was saying to wash over her.
Before she’d come down for breakfast, Emilie had already decided that she would annoy her husband into the annulment. And now, with Catherine’s help, she was finding out exactly how to do it.
Emilie finished her breakfast, not having to say much else as Catherine continued to prattle. Once the girl got going about some topic or another, she seemed to not really be able to stop.
She was sweet, though. And Emilie was finding that she liked that about her.
“I suppose that’s all I ken,” Catherine said eventually, once Emilie had placed her fork down upon her now empty plate.
“And it is more than enough,” Emilie answered with a smile. “Thank ye. I do think I would like to see me husband, though. Do ye happen to ken where he is?”
Catherine screwed up her face, thinking.
“Likely in the cellars,” she finally responded. “He and Marcus will be goin’ over their whisky count today. Makin’ sure they have everythin’ they need for the upcomin’ week.”
Their whisky count?
Emilie wanted to press further, but that wasn’t what was important right now. Giving Catherine her widest, friendliest smile, Emilie spoke again.
“Do ye think ye could show me to the cellars?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“These barrels seem to be agin’ right,” Archer said, walking forward to inspect the seals on the closest barrels. “Got a good smell to ‘em, too.”
“Aye. They’ll be set to distribute within the week,” Marcus agreed, coming up to stand beside Archer.
Looking down at the parchment in his hand, Archer made a couple of notes. There had been requests from all of his territories for an increase in the amount of whisky they were having delivered.