Moira awoke with the sun in her face. She had slept the sleep of the dead, not even remembering any of the dreams that usually plagued her at night.
It was uncommon for her not to dream, but her mind was blank, all she could think of was that tall handsome stranger she met last night at the ball. It was so
cliche, but Morton Manor was the last place she had expected to meet anyone like that...no...she had never expected to meet anyone like him anywhere...ever.
She remembered his name, but somehow it didn´t fit...Ciaran... Moira shook her head...he didn´t look like a Ciaran...
´´Goodmorning milady´´ Mary said. Mary was Moira´s lady´s maid ´Talk about old-fashioned´ she thought. But the Laird had insisted. ´´At this rate good people will lose their jobs Moira dear, and then how will they feed their families?
No, my child, tradition is important´´ Moira could hear her father saying in her head. She sighed ´´Goodmorning Mary´´. Mary smiled ´´Will you have breakfast with
his Lordship today?´´ she asked. Ah! It was Sunday, but of course..she had no choice. ´´Very well, please tell my father I will be down shortly´´ Moira anwsered.
She felt Mary still eyeing her ´´I can dress myself Mary, thank you that will be all´´. Mary flashed a smile, curtsied and left the room. ´A curtsy!´ Moira thought, and a shudder ran through her. Lord Kincaid wasn´t the only one who lived in the past.