“I daenae believe this,” their father shook his head. “I havenae had to break up a fight between the two of ye for some years now. I need ye both to grow up.”
“All I was sayin’—” Dearg began again, but Laird MacCallum’s head snapped toward him. The simple move forcing him to cut off mid-sentence.
“Ye have said yer piece, Dearg. That is enough,” the Laird pointed to the table. “Ye sit down and eat, and ye,” he rounded on Erskine. Erskine held his chin high, preparing for the accusation that would now invariably come his way thanks to Dearg’s meddling. “Now, can ye respond calmly to this without lashin’ out at yer brother?”
“Doubtful,” Erskine said simply, earning a small smile from their father, who was clearly tempted to laugh at this idea.
“Explain, Erskine,” Laird MacCallum folded his arms and adopted a straight face once more.
Now is definitely nae the time to reveal Laura’s identity.
To get his father to help Laura, he would have to be in a good, lenient mood — now was not that time. Erskine would have to choose his moment carefully and, for now, opt for lies.
“Dearg is just upset that the young lad we brought on our journey earned our companion’s respect better than he did,” Erskine tried to keep his voice calm and fend off any temptation to shout. “I daenae ken why, but Dearg dinnae like the lad. Any chance he had to belittle the boy he took, includin’ makin’ up this strange tale about me.”
“That is all?” Laid MacCallum uncrossed his arms, his face relaxing once again.
“That is all,” Erskine said sternly. “I merely saw a lad in trouble and wanted to help.”
“Aye, then ye did good. Though I confess I have nay wish to hear of this topic or this boy again,” the Laird moved past him, back to his seat, but his countenance was still not relaxed. “Come, eat yer dinner. This conversation is over.”
“But—” Dearg tried to speak up.
“I said it is over,” their father repeated the words, this time much slower, leaving them both in no doubt that any revisit of the topic would be punished greatly.
Erskine took his seat with his hopes now dashed. Clearly, his father did not wish to hear of ‘Billie’ ever again. Bringing up the topic of Laura’s true situation was going to be a difficult one.
The dinner became one of coldness with a few exchanged pleasantries, and as much as Erskine knew that he and Dearg exchanged dark glares, he was aware how closely their father was watching the two of them as well.
Does me faither believe me?
* * *
On the second day in Magret’s house, Laura was beginning to grow accustomed to the woman and the rhythm of life there. Though she frequently found herself staring out of the window, hoping that Erskine would come to see her, she soon found ways to distract herself from missing him. She held good to her word in her promise to help Magret out. She emptied chamber pots, helped prepare food, cleaned, and when people came calling asking for Magret’s help with sickness or wounds, Laura would assist her. She was learning from Magret quickly a few basic facts on healing.
Magret, though perhaps a little blunt and curt at times, was actually a very kind soul indeed, though she didn’t always show it, and Laura was incredibly grateful for the woman taking her under her roof so easily. It was what made her so eager to give her help to Magret.
At the end of the second day, Laura was tidying away the spent eggshells, rose oil, and turpentine they had used to help clear up a patient’s wounds when darkness was falling. Magret had just seen the young man to the door who carried a wound and waved him on his way before coming back into the room to see Laura tidying up the clutter.
“Well, I am pleased to see ye pull yer weight round here, lassie,” Magret said as she plopped herself down at the kitchen table, rubbing her wrinkled brow with tiredness. Laura smiled in response. “But ye should be careful with yer voice, ye ken. It sometimes slips when ye’re tryin’ to make it deeper.”
“It’s a façade that’s not always easy to keep up, I will admit,” Laura put the eggshells in a bin and replaced the glass bottles to the pantry nearby.
“That’s enough cleanin’ for one day. Make old Magret some tea now,” Magret rested her ankles on a nearby chair.
“Of course,” Laura set to work on boiling some water on a fire and stewing the mixture with tea leaves before passing it to the older woman. Magret took the cup with old hands that still had a lot of strength in them.
“Ye sit down too now, lassie, there is somethin’ I wish to speak to ye about.”
Feeling startled, Laura quickly took a seat, resting her hands around her cup and waiting nervously for Magret to begin.
“Ha! Ye should see yer face. A sentence like that and ye now look terrified of me,” Magret said with a chuckle as she blew on her hot tea.
“I am worried what you wish to talk about,” Laura shrugged, as though it were obvious.
“Relax, I am nae goin’ to send ye out of me house,” Magret waved the idea away, sitting back in her chair. These words brought Laura comfort, and she sat back too.
“Thank you,” she said with honesty.
