Page 9 of Highlander's Secret Heiress
Alyth was hesitant to approach the room again, so she passed the time looking at the family portraits along the wall. As yet, she had not had her own portrait done back in the MacAdams Keep, and doubted if she ever would, since she was such an active person she doubted if she could have sat still long enough!
The pictures were all dated, so she could trace the family’s lineage through the generations, and she noticed the strong thread of a resemblance that had persisted to the present day. Most of the men had strong features, with high, sloping cheekbones and broad foreheads, traits which Alyth could see on Lachlan Carrick’s face. The women had mostly married into the family and there were very few of them who were blood relatives, so their features varied from face to face.
Alyth was fascinated, when she came to the portrait of Davina’s mother, to realise that the resemblance between the two of them was quite striking. They both had the same dark, slightly wavy hair and deep grey eyes. Sandrina Carrick’s face was slightly squarer than Alyth’s, however, and lacked the dimple in her chin that Alyth had. Yet now she could understand Davina’s observation.
Alyth was lost in her thoughts when she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Maisie standing behind her, smiling. “I can see why wee Davina got mixed up,” she remarked. “Ye are very like Milady.”
“I can see that now,” Alyth agreed. “My goodness—we could be sisters!”
“But ye’re not,” Maisie reminded her. “Back tae work, hen. I need ye in the garden today.”
“I’ve never done any gardening before,” Alyth said dubiously.
“It’s no’ very hard,” Maisie replied. “The hard work is mostly done by the men, which is why I am very glad tae be a woman sometimes!”
Alyth laughed then looked down at her clothes. She was wearing an apron, but had not yet been given a uniform. The one she had been wearing on her arrival was too tattered and dirty to wear, so she had been given another, but that did not fit her properly. Even if it had, it was in such bad condition that kneeling in the dirt and grass would ruin it anyway.
Seeing her look, Maisie said, “There is a work dress bein’ made for ye, but in the meantime ye will have tae wear what ye have on.” Her tone was regretful.
Just then, one of the stable lads passed them wearing a pair of breeches. Alyth had occasionally worn these when she was learning her martial skills, but even though such an outfit was quite shocking, no one had commented. After all, she was mistress of Cairnloch Castle.
However, that was not the case any more. Dare she ask for a pair, Alyth wondered?
“I could wear a pair of breeches, if you don’t mind,” she said thoughtfully. “This dress is far too short for me.” They both looked down at the hem of the garment, which only reached the middle of Alyth’s calf. If she knelt down, it would only come down to her knees.
Maisie frowned at her for a moment, then nodded slowly. “The lassies will a’ laugh at ye, mind,” she warned.
Alyth shrugged. “I have been laughed at before,” she said carelessly. “It will not kill me.”
Maisie caught one of the manservants and gave him instructions. He looked shocked, but he obeyed his orders andcame back a moment later with a pair of baggy breeches and a long shirt.
Alyth went into the tack room beside the stables to change, and came out a few moments later looking like a different person. The baggy tunic had been tucked into equally baggy breeches that were tied at the waist with a length of frayed rope. The legs were too long, so Alyth had tucked them into her boots. Maisie thought she looked like a slender teenage boy, but evidently the gardeners did not think so; their gazes followed her all the way into the kitchen garden.
By the time the hour of her midday meal arrived, Alyth’s back was aching, and she never wanted to see another dandelion as long as she lived. She went into the kitchen, and as Maisie had predicted, all the other maidservants laughed at her, but it was in a delightful, good-humoured way.
Alyth joined in, enjoying making fun of herself, this was not something she had ever been able to do before. She loved the warmth of the group of young women in which she found herself, and the fact that they accepted her felt like a tremendous honour.
When she knelt down again to battle the weeds in the herb garden, Alyth was feeling more cheerful than she had for days. Her chat with the others had not only been enjoyable, but profitable, since she had found out the names of the most influential members of the garrison, the ones who had the Laird’s ear. She decided that she would try to pursue a friendship with at least one of them and see what came of it.
She had just pulled out another handful of weeds and was about to throw it into the basket behind her when a little handplucked it out of her grasp, and Alyth looked around to see Davina looking at her shyly.
“Davina,” Alyth said with a smile. She looked at the pale blue dress the little girl was wearing and said admiringly, “My goodness. How pretty you look today!”
Davina smiled, then reached out to take Alyth’s hand and led her to a wooden bench under the shadow of the fruit trees that grew around the kitchen garden.
There, she put a book on Alyth’s lap and tapped it with her forefinger.
“Do you want me to read it?” Alyth asked.
Davina nodded with a shy smile. Alyth hesitated for a moment. She had thought it might be a good time to talk to Davina about her mother’s death and tell her that her mother had also passed on, but decided it was too soon. Davina was fragile, and Alyth was in no position to play with fire, so she began to read aloud and point at the pictures as she went, asking the little girl about them, trying to urge her to speak.
They had only read a few pages of the book, however, when Alyth, out of the corner of her eye, saw the unwelcome figure of Lachlan Carrick coming towards them, frowning.
Lachlan had been about to pick some apples and nuts for Davina, since she loved apple pie and sweet chestnuts roasted over the fire. Then he saw the new maid and his daughter sitting close together, and he noticed how similar she looked to the wife he had loved and lost.
Jeannie was a little taller and more slender, her eyes were a little darker and more almond-shaped, and she had a dimple in her chin whereas Sandrina had not. However, at a glance, from a distance, they could have been mistaken for each other.
At the last moment, Alyth looked up and saw him, and paused in the act of reading Davina’s favourite story to her. She should have been helping to harvest the vegetables in thekitchen garden as well as weeding it; that was what he was paying her for, after all.
