The dress was robin’s egg blue and made Lottie’s eyes sparkle.
Lottie sat at her vanity and let Jeane braid her auburn hair, dutifully.
“Are ye going to tell me what’s goin’ on between ye and me brother?” Lottie asked, and Jeane froze with locks of Lottie’s hair between her fingers.
“I daenae what ye’re talkin’ about,” Jeane lied, and Lottie huffed and rolled her eyes.
“Ye daenae have to keep lyin’ to me, ye ken.”
“What do ye mean? I havenae lied to ye.” Jeane wondered if God would strike her down for lying again.
Lottie stood when Jeane finished her hair, walking past Jeane out toward the back door. They usually walked through the garden and around the grounds, near the edge of the woods.
“We can make it to that clearin’ today. The one ye told me about with all the dandelion puffs,” Jeane offered, hurrying to catch up with Lottie. Usually, Lottie was slow, having difficulty breathing, but today, she seemed in good spirits, her lungs clear.
“Perhaps,” Lottie said, putting her nose in the air and walking a few steps ahead of Jeane. “But daenae think I didnae notice ye changing the subject.”
Jeane sighed. “Ye’re angry with me.”
“Am I?” Lottie huffed out a breath, continuing out of the castle through the back doors.
Jeane caught up with her easily. Lottie was starting to flag, having used up too much energy too quickly. She looped her arm through Lottie’s, and the younger woman slowed down, leaning against Jeane.
“Tell me somethin’,” Lottie insisted.
“Aye, what is it?”
“What’s yer real name?”
Jeane sputtered. “L-Liliana Murdoch.”
Lottie sighed. “Daenae lie to me again. Ye always delay respondin’ to that name, like it’s foreign to ye.”
Jeane’s head spun. Lottie was smarter than she had given her credit for.
“All right,” Jeane said finally in a quiet voice, deciding to trust Lottie in that moment. “Me name isnae really Liliana.”
“Then why?—”
“I’m using it to protect meself,” Jeane explained. “I’m hidin’.”
“Hidin’ from what? From who?” Lottie asked, her eyes brightening. Jeane smiled. The girl loved a spot of gossip; that much was clear.
“From me father,” Jeane admitted. “He wanted me to get married to some brute, and I was afraid. I ran away. The Laird was kind enough to make up a new identity for me.”
“So Fergus is protectin’ ye?”
“Aye.”
Lottie grinned. “That’s so romantic.”
Jeane flushed. “I wouldnae call itromantic.”
“Then what would ye call it? Ye ran away and met Fergus, and he offered to protect ye from yer evil father.”
“It wasnae exactly like that,” Jeane said with her cheeks flushing even redder. “Yer brother wanted me to come here to take care of ye.”
“But then it blossomed,” Lottie said, continuing to walk through the rose beds and squares with daisies planted in the center. “And now, ye two are in love.”
