Free Hero of a Highland Wolf by Terry Spear

frustrations.
    They continued to stroll through the herb garden, while Archibald remained quiet.
    She didn’t know enough about the area to ask any questions, and walking in the damp cold without a coat was chilling her to the bone. She was certain she’d acclimate to the varying temperatures and weather conditions eventually, but she was having a difficult time enjoying this. She sighed.
    Well, if he couldn’t come up with another topic, she might as well ask him about Grant. “I take it that you and Grant know each other fairly well?” She couldn’t imagine that Grant only saw Archibald as an alpha male wolf who was trespassing on his pack’s territory. It had to be something that went deeper.
    Archibald smiled this time, but the look was not pleasant.
    â€œNot what you would call friends?” Certainly not from Grant’s perspective.
    Archibald shrugged. “I don’t really feel comfortable here, speaking with you. The gardens have ears.”
    She raised her brows, then glanced around and noticed a gardener studying the roses. A teen who had been watching them from another garden turned red-faced and quickly looked away. Were Grant’s people spying on her and Archibald? She wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or amused.
    â€œI would love to take you to a village and offer you breakfast, and we could really visit,” Archibald said, sounding hopeful.
    â€œI’d love to. Later,” she said, feeling she was too tired to be the best of company. Even now she wished to put on a cheery face, but she couldn’t conjure up the warmth to back her smile. She was still thinking about dealing with Grant and what would be next as she butted heads with the man.
    Footsteps headed in their direction, and she turned to see who approached. They’d only been walking in the chilly fog for about ten minutes, which in itself seemed ridiculous. Then again, the Highlanders were probably used to the weather. If she was back home, she would have found something else to do with her time. She was getting damp and chilled, and she hoped whoever approached would get her out of this predicament in a way that wouldn’t hurt Archibald’s feelings.
    Grant’s man, Darby, hurried to catch up to her and said with urgency, “My Lady, Laird MacQuarrie says the morning meal is ready, if you’d like to join us.”
    Hearing her referred to this time with a title, she was taken aback. So politely now, instead of the way he had taken her to task in Grant’s chamber. She wasn’t used to being referred to as “lady.” In America, she didn’t use any title. She was just Colleen, as far as she was concerned. In Scotland, it was different. Maybe using her title would ensure that some of the wolves in Grant’s pack treated her with more respect. Though she didn’t think she’d ever get used to being referred to in that manner.
    She hesitated to speak. The preparation of breakfast seemed to have occurred awfully fast. Why didn’t Grant say they were getting ready to eat as a reason she shouldn’t take a walk with Archibald? She suspected they’d thrown breakfast together in a hurry in an attempt to whisk her away from him.
    Was Grant trying to make amends with her, then? She doubted it.
    A light breakfast might settle her stomach, but she didn’t think inviting Archibald to eat with them would help. She could imagine the tension escalating in the dining hall. Darby’s interruption was just what she needed. She didn’t even mind knowing Grant was attempting to get her away from Archibald.
    At least for this morning, the way she was feeling, she much preferred Grant’s disheveled, kilted appearance to Archibald’s polished look, because she was feeling a little disheveled herself. Not in appearance, but psychologically. And, at least while conversing with Grant, she felt she knew the ground rules, somewhat. Annoyed, gruff,