Page 8 of Highlander's Secret Heiress
When she went back to her duties, she could think of nothing else but what Heather had said.
“She looks an awful lot like Lady Carrick.”
Alyth fervently hoped she would not bump into Davina and her father again.
She occasionally saw the Laird from a distance as she carried on with her work that day, but looked away quickly, not wantingto catch his eye or attract his attention in any other way. Most of the time he was with Davina, who stayed close by his side and looked up at him adoringly. He smiled at her frequently and occasionally picked her up to kiss her cheek and laugh with her.
The love between them was almost palpable, and made Alyth long to be back with her own father, back to the reality she knew, not here in this confusing state. She knew he would never give up looking for her, perhaps she would just go back after getting the pendant and the joy of seeing her again would be enough to call off her wedding.
That evening, Alyth avoided the other maids and went to the kitchen for her evening meal after they had all left. Mairi was a fat woman in her middle years, a Lowlander, and had quite a different way of speaking from the other servants. Sometimes Alyth missed a word or two, but she persevered.
“I met the Laird just after I came here,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “He seems a bit scary.”
“Aye, but only since his wife died,” Mairi replied. “An’ we a’ know he is soft as butter inside. He dotes on that wean o’ his, puir wee thing. Never seen a man sae lovin’ in my life. Him an’ the Captain o’ the Guard are good friends an’ a. Ye will often see them trainin’ together. The Laird is a fierce fighter, an’ a handsome devil. A charmin’ in his late twenties.” She winked mischievously.
Alyth laughed. “I have already met the Captain.” She smiled.
“Oh, he is a nice man, even though he’s a soldier,” Mairi replied, smiling. “He absolutely adores Mistress Maisie, an’ she loves him. Both o’ them are fond o’ Davina as well, because they cannae have any weans o’ their own.”
“Such a pity,” Alyth said sadly. “They would have been very good parents.”
Then Alyth changed the subject in case she aroused suspicion that she was asking too many questions. “Tell me what Glasgow is like,” she said, smiling. “I have always wanted to go there.”
They chatted amiably for a short while before Alyth yawned, pleaded that she was very tired, which she was, and went to bed in her tiny room.
3
Alyth did not sleep well that night, since she was constantly plagued with nightmares of being trapped against the wall by Laird Carrick. This time, however, there was no Davina to save her, and she woke up shivering with fear several times. She eventually managed an hour or two just before dawn, but she still felt drained and exhausted when she rose from bed.
As she made her way downstairs for breakfast, she met some of the other women, who remarked on how pale she looked.
“I didn’t sleep very well,” Alyth confessed, yawning. “I’m sure I will be better later, though.”
“Bad dreams?” Flora asked. “I often have them, especially when Mairi makes us eat tripe. I hate tripe!”
The others laughed, and Alyth envied their friendship and all their carefree banter. She did not yet feel like one of them, but hoped she soon would. None of them had asked about her upper-class accent yet, but she reasoned that was only a matter of time.
“No,” Alyth lied. “No nightmares, but I never sleep well in a strange bed, though I expect I will get used to it, and I bumped my head on the roof.”
The last part was the truth; even though Alyth was of average height, the sloping roof was so low just above her bed that she had difficulty in avoiding it.
Morag patted her on the back. “We a’ hated sleepin’ in that room,” she said, “but Mistress Maisie will move ye as soon as another one is empty. Be careful when it’s rainin’. There’s a leak in the roof.”
Alyth sighed. She would have to grit her teeth and put up with these little hardships. After all, she was working for a noble cause, and she was determined not to be deterred from her mission by anything except death.
Death.
That suddenly seemed like a much more likely prospect than it had before Laird Carrick had scared her so much. Alyth had always prided herself on her self-defence skills, but up against a six-foot-two inch man she was not quite helpless, but at a severe disadvantage.
However, Alyth reminded herself again of the alternative, being Laird Robertson’s wife, and her mission to retrieve her lost treasure. She was glad to be distracted again by some humorous small talk.
She thought of trying to find out a bit more about the Laird and his daughter, but was afraid to be seen as too inquisitive; that would arouse suspicion. Alyth knew that the fastest way to spread any kind of rumour was through servants’ gossip!
As soon as she rose from the breakfast table, Alyth went to find Maisie so that she could receive her instructions for the day. She walked into the small room in which Maisie kept the keys and other paraphernalia she needed to run the household, and immediately stopped in her tracks.
Maisie and Gavin were locked in a tight embrace, kissing hungrily like two young lovers instead of a couple who had been married for thirty years. Alyth was astounded that a couple whohad been together for so long were still attracted to each other in a carnal way.
Their togetherness had not become some mundane thing, a habit akin to eating or drinking, but was still passionate. Her heart warmed as she gazed at them, then she realised that she would embarrass all of them if she stood there much longer, so she beat a hasty retreat.
