They gave each other a brief nod, but while Connor busied himself with the fire, Ali saw him glance every so often in Mari’s direction. And Mari peeked at him when
ever she thought he wasn’t looking.
“Connor, when you’re finished here would you mind taking Mari to get something to eat? She’s new to Dunvegan.”
“Nay, my lady, ’tis fine, I . . .” Mari began to protest. With a sidelong look at Mari, Connor said, “Aye, my lady, I wil .”
The young maid glared at her, and Ali suppressed a laugh, happy to see her spurt of temper. When Connor wasn’t looking, Ali mouthed
sion didn’t change, but Ali thought she saw her lips twitch. Ali shut her eyes to the early morning sunlight stream ing through the open drapes on her window and snuggled deeper into the comfort of her feather bed. Now that was something she’d miss.
“My lady?”
Ali removed the pil ow from her head and blinked. “Oh, Mari, sorry, I didn’t see you there. I—” She sat up and stared at her maid. The girl stood before her, resplendent in the bright yel ow gown, twisting her hands in front of her. 66
“Mari, you look wonderful.” Noting the girl’s frightened expression, she said, “Something’s the matter. What is it?”
“He’s here, my lady.” Her eyes fil ed with tears. Ali got out of bed and pul ed the trembling girl into her arms. “Who’s here?”
“The priest. The one who wanted to put me to the stake.”
Ali rubbed her maid’s back, remembering what Mrs. Mac had told her the day she brought Mari to her. Know ing what she did, Ali could wel imagine the young girl’s terror. “Shh, now, how do you know he’s here?”
“The maids were talkin’ aboot it. The laird’s men brought him in yester eve.”
“Did they say why?”
“Aye, he’s demanding an audience with the laird.” The last of her words came out on a sob.
“Don’t worry, Mari. Lord MacLeod won’t let anyone hurt you, and neither wil I. You trust me, don’t you?”
“Aye, my lady.” She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
“You’l stay in my room. I’l find you some mending and you can sit by the fire for the day. How does that sound?”
“Verra good.”
“I have to check on Mrs. Chisholm, but after that I’l come back and sit with you. I’l talk to Lord MacLeod as soon as I get dressed.” Ali didn’t trust herself to confront the priest, not with the look of terror he’d put on Mari’s face. She was afraid she’d put him to the stake herself.
“He’s not here, my lady.”
“What do you mean, he’s not here?”
“He and his men are trainin’ in the glen this morn. He’s to meet with the priest later.”
“Training?”
“Aye, for battle.”
“For God’s sake, does the man have no brains? He was on
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death’s door less than a week ago and now he’s running—”
She cursed.
Mari clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as saucers.
Ali grimaced. “Don’t repeat that.”
There was a sharp rap on the door to her chambers and Mari jumped.
“’Tis only me, my lady,” Mrs. Mac said, peeking around the door. Stepping into the room, the older woman’s eyes widened. “Och, now, would you look at that.” She smiled at Mari. “You look bonny, lass.”
“Thank ye.” Mari bobbed her head shyly.
Mrs. Macpherson squinted, looking at the girl more closely. “Ah, I see you’ve heard.”
“About the priest? Yes. I’ve told Mari to stay in my room until I can speak to Lord MacLeod. Which I gather won’t be for some time since the fool’s off playing war games with his men.”
“Lady Aileanna, ’tis no way to speak of yer laird,” the older woman chided. Ali curled her lip. “He’s not my laird.”
Mrs. Macpherson gave her an odd look before bustling about the room, setting out Ali’s toilette. “I’m goin’ to
