“LYDIA DECIDED, AND Tavis obliged. They both peered into the pan. Lydia sighed. “Well, drat and blast it all!” “Milady! Such language for a woman of your position, I’ll say.” Tavis rebuked. “It certainly doesn’t act like tea, does it, Tavis?” “Nay, not a bit, I’ll say, but still no reason for you to be unladylike about it.” Lydia snorted. “Only you, dear Tavis, dare criticize my manners.” “ ’Tis because you’re usually the spit of perfection, so it fashes me more than a wee bit when you sally.” “...Well, stir it, Tavis! Don’t just let it sit there.” Tavis flashed her a disgruntled look as he began to stir the mixture rapidly. “These talented hands were made for curing the richest hides in all of Scotia, not stirring a lady’s drink, I’ll say,” he grumbled. Lydia smiled at his words. How he went on about his talented hands! One would think they were made of purest gold instead of flesh, bone, and a few calluses. She glanced at him a pensive moment while he stirred the brew.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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