Chapter Twenty-One
Mia had almost finished sweeping the floor when she heard voices.
“Mia, are ye there?”
“Of course she is, Rory, ye great fool! Didnae ye see the smoke from the chimney?”
She smiled at her friend’s voice.
“Come in, Maisie,” Mia called, wiping her hands on her apron. “You’re here early…” The front door opened and Maisie entered, a basket over her arm. Rory’s head appeared, peering around the doorframe. “Shall I make some tea?”
Rory nodded. “Aye, ye’d better, lass. I can see that young lad approaching, and he never says no to a cup.” He turned away from the door and called to someone outside. “Hey, Brodie lad, get yer arse inside quickly—it’s a cold one today and we dinnae want to keep this door open forever.”
The young man appeared, stamping his feet. “It’s right cold today, it is.”
“Cold enough to freeze a man’s cock off,” Rory said. “Beggin’ yer pardon, ma’am.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Mia said, unable to hide her smile. “It’s early yet.”
“We heard…I mean, we thought…ye’d appreciate a little help,” Maisie said.
“And ye might appreciate these also,” Rory added, raising his hand to reveal a brace of grouse, “seeing as ye’ve learned to pluck and cook Glenblath grouse to perfection.”
“Courtesy of your excellent tutelage,” Mia said. “But I couldn’t accept two grouse. It’s too generous. Perhaps you should give one to Evie instead?”
“And have that great lump of her husband eat it all?” Maisie laughed. “Nay—ye should accept it for Evie’s sake, Mia. I know ye’ve been letting her have a bite or two each time she visits ye.”
“Oh, no, she—”
“It’s no bother, lass,” Rory said with a wink. “I’ll not tell Murdoch. Now, let me get these hanging for ye, then we can see about tidying the place up.”
“Tidying up?” Mia said.
“Aye.” He glanced about the parlor, eyes narrowing as his gaze wandered about the shelves on which half of the jars were now missing, Mia having swept up the broken shards last night. “It looks as if ye’ve tidied away the worst of it.”
She felt her cheeks warming. News traveled fast.
“Is everyone talking about it?” she said. “Laughing at the pockmarked witch having been taught a lesson?”
“Of course not,” Maisie said. “I dinnae think anyone knows, unless Master Hamish saw fit to tell them, and I doubt that.”
“Why?” Mia said, unable to disguise the bitterness in her voice.
“Because he swore us to secrecy—said he’d toss Rory off the estate if he spoke as much of a word about what happened to ye.”
“When was this?”
“He visited me last night,” Rory said. “Foolish lad to climb halfway up the mountain! Got caught in the rainstorm. He said ye’d had a bit of bother and to visit ye in the morning to help.”
“He did?”
“Aye,” Maisie said. “Soaked to the bone, he were. But a dish of tea soon set him to rights.”
“Och, Maisie, love,” Rory chided, and Maisie let out a soft laugh.
“I think young Brodie here knows what I get up to most nights. Dinnae ye?” she said. “Why are ye here, lad?”
The young man blushed. “M-Master Hamish said that I was to visit Lady MacLennan to offer my services—he said it was only right, seein’ as she’d been kind enough to treat my arm.
But he said nothing about her being taught a lesson.
” He glanced about the parlor, his gaze settling on the half-empty shelves and the remnants of the smashed chair in the corner. “What happened?”
“A-an accident, nothing more,” Mia said.
“Master Hamish said it was deliberate,” Maisie said. “But there’s no need for ye to bother. He’ll soon find out who’s to blame, and will bring them to justice. He disnae tolerate such unkindness.”
Mia suppressed a snort and shook her head. “Not even against—” She broke off as Maisie took her hand.
“Surely ye dinnae think Master Hamish would tolerate any unkind treatment of ye?”
When Mia didn’t respond, Maisie’s expression darkened.
“Do ye think he had something to do with this?”
“Why?” Mia said. “Did he say anything to you?”
“No, lass,” Rory said, “other than ye needed help, and though he wanted to give it, ye were too unhappy to accept his help. He said ye needed a friend—a friend that ye could trust.” He took her other hand.
“Lass, surely ye didnae think Master Hamish had anything to do with what happened, or”—he glanced at Maisie—“that ye cannae trust him? He’s a good man. ”
“Aye, that he is,” Maisie said.
“And kind,” Brodie added. “The best master, or so my da used to say—kinder and fairer than the old laird. And he’d never do anything to hurt ye, ma’am.”
“Then who?” Mia said.
Maisie set her basket on the table and pulled out several jars and bottles. “Will these replace what was broken?”
Mia nodded. “Yes, thank you, but I’ll need to collect the herbs again, and what with winter coming, they’ll be scarce. I count myself fortunate that the calendula salve was untouched, at least, as there won’t be any more flowers until the spring, by which time I’ll be gone.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Maisie said, setting her basket aside. “Ye dinnae suppose it was Iona? Hamish once told me that she smashed six wine bottles when he told her she was too young to drink it. She said that if she couldn’t have it, then neither could he.”
“No,” Mia said. “Iona may be willful, and she dislikes me, but I don’t think she’d do anything like this. She might smash a jar or two in front of me, or in front of Hamish, to gain his attention, but I can’t see her behaving in such an underhand manner as to destroy my belongings in secret.”
“Cannae ye?” Maisie said.
Brodie’s eyes widened. “No!” he cried. “I cannae believe Iona would do such a thing. Sh-she’s unhappy, but she’s not cruel.”
“She’s thrown plenty of cruel words yer way, Brodie,” Maisie said. “But ye’re too sweet on her to think her capable of any evil.”
“I agree with Brodie, Maisie, lass,” Rory said.
“Iona’s just a little wild, like all young lasses her age who grew up without the steadying hand of a father.
What that lass needs is a husband to take her in hand and tame her wild ways.
” He let out a chuckle. “What about ye, Brodie, lad? Surely ye must be old enough to know that yer cock’s not just for pissing. ”
Brodie went as red as fire and his lower lip wobbled.
“Rory!” Maisie cried, slapping the ghillie on his arm. “I’ve told ye before, ye shouldn’t speak so in front of Mia. She’s not used to our uncouth ways.”
“I’m only saying what the rest of us are thinking, love.”
Maisie’s eyes widened at Rory’s term of endearment, but she said nothing.
“There’s plenty of lasses hereabouts who’d take Brodie in hand.” He let out a chuckle. “There’s Florrie—her who lives along the valley.”
“What, Campbell’s widow?” Maisie said. “She’s forty if she’s a day. She’d make mincemeat of young Brodie.”
“But she’d teach him a thing or two,” Rory said with a chuckle. “And if Brodie’s needing a son, there’s no sturdier pair of hips in the whole of Glenblath.”
Maisie frowned and folded her arms. “And how would ye know, Rory MacLennan?”
He blushed and shrugged. “Campbell used to tell me how she used to—”
“I dinnae want to hear it!” Maisie huffed.
“Och, come here, Maisie, hen,” Rory said, drawing her close for a kiss.
“Ye know I’d never look twice at her. She’s not as pretty as ye.
But she’d do for Brodie—give him a son to take over as head groom.
” He turned to Mia. “Ye see, lass, that’s the tradition here.
The menfolk will hand their livelihoods over to their sons.
Brodie’s da was head groom before him, weren’t he, lad? ”
Brodie nodded, his color deepening.
“And what do they do with their daughters?” Mia said. “Or do daughters have no worth?”
“Och, they’re worth a lot, lass,” Rory said. “They become wives of the menfolk. Well…the respectable daughters become wives.”
Maisie’s hand slipped and her basket fell to the floor.
Mia picked it up and handed it to her. The other woman’s eyes were gleaming with moisture, and Mia caught a sheen of vulnerability that disappeared as soon as it came, as if, for a heartbeat, the armor protecting Maisie’s heart had slipped—as Mia’s armor had almost slipped last night.
“Maisie?” Mia said, taking her hand.
Maisie shook her head. “It’s nothing.” Then she turned to Rory and gave him a hard smile. “Well!” she said, a little too brightly. “It seems as if I’m not needed here. Mia, I’ll come tomorrow and see how ye’re getting on. I’m sure I spotted some wild thyme yesterday, and I can show ye where it is.”
Rory raised his eyebrows. “Shall I come with ye, Maisie?”
“No,” came the reply. “There’s a bed needing warming and my empty pockets are in need of a coin or two.”
Without waiting for a response, she took the basket and exited the parlor.
“What was that about?” Brodie said. “Did I say something amiss?”
“Och, I dinnae ken,” Rory said with a sigh. “I’ll never understand women. Begging yer pardon, Mistress Mia, but ye’re an enigma to us. Master Hamish said just the same last night. Perhaps ye can tell me why my Maisie turns from being the happiest, most carefree lass in the world to a harridan?”
But a knock on the door spared Mia the need to reply as Aileen MacLennan arrived, ready to take her to the school.
Which was just as well—for there was nothing to gain from explaining to a man what love did to a woman.