“Mrs. Clyde must have seen the look of confusion on my face because she repeated herself, slower this time so I could understand it. "Mrs. Clyde! Hello!" I tried to sound cheery even though I was falling-down tired after more than thirty-six hours of travel and newly terrified by the undeniable fact that I was in a country where I didn't know a single person - except the matronly Scotswoman standing in front of me with a smile on her face. "You poor wee thing, you look half-dead you do."... Mrs. Clyde's expression dissolved into something like sympathy when she got close enough to get a better look at me and feel the limpness in my handshake. "We'll get you back to the house and you can have a nice sleep - the Laird and the little one won't be back until Sunday night." My ears perked up at the word 'Laird' - I knew it was the Scottish word for 'Lord' but no one had mentioned anything to me about any lairds or ladies. We drove for over an hour and I spent most of it repeatedly nodding off and jerking awake, embarrassed at my inability to keep my eyes open.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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