“Aye.” His answer was out of his mouth almost before she’d finished asking the question.
“If I’m with you—” She stopped, as if just realizing he’d already said yes. She smiled at him. Lord, she was enchanting.
Lachlan smiled back.
* * * *
By the time the sun was high, Lachlan had tended no fewer than one hundred animals. He’d mended two gates, sewn thatch into three roofs, and held one infant while Finley helped a woman hang out her washing.
The infant was, by far, the most difficult chore of the day—like holding a very short, thick eel. An eel that wanted to pull your hair and stick its slippery, wet fingers in your facial orifices and shriek when it was disallowed. Lachlan resorted to placing the child in a tall basket for a time, swinging it by one handle when the creature became restless.
He was thankful when they were on the path to the next longhouse, and he recognized the familiar blond head of Kirsten Carson, scattering grain for the ducks gathered around her in the dooryard. The young woman glanced up and immediately blushed, dumping out her apron and brushing her hands over the fabric before clasping them behind her back.
“Good day, Kirsten,” Finley called out.
“Good day, Finley,” the blonde replied, and then gave Lachlan the briefest of glances. “Blair.”
“Miss Kirsten,” Lachlan said with a slight bow, knowing it would cause the shy girl’s cheeks to flush even deeper.
Finley gave him an exasperated glance before addressing her friend once more. “The old folks about?”
“They’re bringing in nets,” Kirsten said.
“Would you know of any work about the place your father would welcome help with?” Lachlan asked, and held up the box with Rory Carson’s tools. “I’ve little knowledge of fishing, else I’d head to the beach to lend a hand.”
Kirsten’s eyes widened slightly, and she glanced at Finley as if to gauge the sincerity of his offer. “I don’t suppose it takes much learning to haul in nets, now does it? Only a strong back. Seems an odd thing, though, for the Blair to be hiring himself out,” she hedged.
Finley’s sigh was audible. “He’s nae the Blair.”
“Not hiring out,” Lachlan corrected, ignoring Finley’s comment. “Just offering help as a gesture of goodwill from a Blair to the Carson Town.” He remembered the item in his pouch and set down the box, finding the shell quickly and holding it toward Kirsten. “Speaking of goodwill from Blair to Carson, this is for you. From Dand.”
Kirsten’s eyes widened again, but it was only for a moment, and then her pretty, pleasant face went blank and she raised her gaze to Lachlan. “Forgive me, Blair, but I canna accept a gift from a man promised to another.”
Lachlan cocked his head. “Dand’s nae promised to anyone.”
Kirsten sniffed. “I’ve heard otherwise.”
“How could you have?” Finley said.
“I’ve heard it,” Kirsten insisted. “And I’ve seen proof of it with my own eyes. It’s that…Searrach.” She said the name as if she was spitting poison from her mouth, and then she looked at Lachlan again. “Weren’t she to marry you, Blair?”
Finley gasped. “Kirsten Carson, have you been to Town Blair on your own again?”
Lachlan looked between the two women. “Wait—what?”
“You just mind your own business, Finley,” Kirsten said with a lift of her chin and a final brush of her skirts. “You forget that while you might be fortunate enough to have a husband, there are others who’ve not yet had one placed on their very doorstep.Andwho wouldn’t be so very ungrateful as you have been to have it happen. So you just mind your own business and let me mind mine.” She frowned at Lachlan, and he could see the glisten of tears in her eyes. “Good day, Blair.” She stalked through the open doorway of her family’s longhouse and closed the door firmly behind her.
Lachlan looked down at Finley in the same moment that she lifted her eyes to him, and Lachlan suspected they were wearing similar expressions of surprise. From what Lachlan had seen of the blond Kirsten, she was gentle and friendly by nature, so this change in attitude had to have been brought on by something significant.
“She knows something,” Finley said, echoing his thoughts. “Or at least she thinks she does. Have you any word from Dand?”
“Not since the day he gave me the dagger. And this,” he said, gesturing with the shell still in his hand. “I’d be told if my brother was to wed.”
“Maybe she’s mistaken,” Finley offered. “Kirsten’s feelings can be a bit exaggerated at times, and she has been daft over your brother since she first caught sight of him.”
“Perhaps,” Lachlan acceded. But to himself, he thought it was more likely that Dand had been prevented from making the journey to Carson Town. “Dand’s already said he wouldn’t have Searrach. For Kirsten to be so convinced that they’re to wed…”
Finley held out her hand. “Give me the shell.”
