Gillyanne choked on a laugh and Kirstie said, “’Tis all right, child. I dinnae mind.”
Bethoc let go of the child, who started back into the house. Gillyanne grabbed Kirstie by the hand and tugged her to her feet. “I must see this.”
Following the women, Bethoc watched from the doorway with them. Margaret marched over to Payton and tugged on his sleeve. He turned to smile down at her and she held out her flowers, nearly hitting him in the face with the small bouquet.
“For me?” he asked, and when she nodded, said, “Thank ye, Margaret.”
She reached up to touch his cheek. “Pretty.” Then she touched the flowers. “Pretty, too.”
Gillyanne laughed as she sat next to Connor. Kirstie’s smile was wide as she returned to her seat by Payton’s side. Bethoc found she could not resist smiling as she collected Margaret and sat down.
“Ye are a wee flirt,” she said to Margaret who giggled and reached for a honey cake.
“She is a wee darling,” Payton said, smiling at Margaret before looking at Bethoc. “Did ye talk to Gillyanne about gifts and all that?”
“Aye, and she told me a great deal.”
“So what is it?” When Bethoc stared at him in confusion, he added, “Your wee intuition, gift, thing ye must hide from all others.”
“She can smell people,” said Gillyanne as she refilled her tankard.
Bethoc found herself trying to explain all over again. It was not easy but it warmed her to see no hint of disbelief, fear, or disgust. Here was acceptance and she reveled in it as they talked until she felt a weight settle against her side. She looked down to see that Margaret had gone to sleep.
“Let me show ye to your rooms,” said Kirstie as she left her seat.
Bethoc picked up Margaret and followed Kirstie. The room she showed her to was beautiful. The small room connected to it with a little bed for Margaret was even better. She allowed Kirstie to put the child to bed and then went back to the larger room to wash up. When she turned around it was to find Kirstie laying out a night shift for her.
“Oh, ye didnae need to do that,” she protested.
“Nay trouble and I wished to speak to ye, away frompretty mon.” She smiled. “Margaret is adorable.” Kirstie sat on the edge of the bed and patted the space beside her. “Come, sit.”
Sitting down Bethoc tried to push aside her sudden tension. Kirstie was a sweet lady. There was nothing to feel nervous about, she assured herself.
“What do ye wish to talk about, m’lady?” Bethoc asked.
“How much do ye ken about the life Callum suffered through ere he came to us?”
“It was horrible and the mon who made it so deserved to die. Many times over.”
“Ah, so he told ye.” Kirstie smiled faintly. “That is interesting.”
“M’lady, I dinnae mean to be rude but I am nay good with subtlety and such as that. Mayhap it would be best to just say, or ask, what ye want to.”
“Then I will be direct. I dinnae ken exactly what is going on with ye and him but dinnae hurt him.”
“Hurt Callum? I would ne’er hurt Callum.”
Kirstie patted her hands and Bethoc realized she had clenched them together in her lap. “I didnae really think so but Callum is verra dear to me and I felt a deep need to say that.” She sighed and her eyes darkened with memory. “Ye didnae ken him as a child, how hurt he was, how broken in so many ways. And, aye, he would be most angry with me for speaking with ye but I couldnae stop myself.” She laughed softly. “Mayhap protecting him is a habit I cannae shake free of.”
“Ye didnae need to explain. My lads havenae suffered as he did but they were worked hard and beaten. They get old enough to run after lassies and I will feel the same. ’Tis hard to shake that need to protect once it sets in hard. All I can say is, I have no intention of hurting Callum in any way. Of course, I am nay sure I am the one ye should worry about.”
“Oh, Bethoc, I dinnae think so. I think I was worrying about exactly the right one.”
Bethoc watched the woman leave and shook her head. She wished she could have said something to the woman to calm her fears. Trouble was, she had no idea what was going on between her and Callum. She was his lover and, despite her growing hope, no more.
Sighing, Bethoc stood up and got ready for bed, washing up and donning the night shift Kirstie had laid out. She realized it was not her own but, not wishing to be rude and refuse a gift, she put it on. It took a while as it had a surprising number of laces down the front. When she walked she realized her legs were revealed for it had slits up both sides to just below her hips. An odd garment, she decided, and went to check on Margaret.
Margaret, her hair neatly braided, was curled up in the small bed and clutching what looked to be a doll of some kind. As Bethoc tucked the covers around the child she realized her little night shift was delicately embroidered with flowers. She wondered if it was something made for that girl child Kirstie wanted so badly.
