“I didnae ken…” she started, wiping her eyes from a mirth Grace was yet to understand. “Come on, dinnae tell me ye dinnae enjoy it…”
“Maisie!”
“What?! I ken ye traveled with him. I see how he looks at ye. Is that… is that why ye are so flustered?!”
“The man is tae be married. How is this funny?”
“Ah, so ye finally admit there was somethin’.”
“I didnae… I’m going to wash the plates. Ye leave me alone now.”
Maisie made a lunge for the sponge, emphatically shaking her fuzzy brown head. “Nae! Last time, Lady Fiona asked if we served with used plates. Go… maybe take another peek at him.”
“Hey!”
Maisie stuck out her tongue at her. “Besides, Mr. Hay never looked twice at the Ice Princess. She has been after him since they were younger. I suppose the father wanted tae make her dream come true.”
“Ye didnae see him reject her.” Grace muttered miserably. This was not the first time Maisie had tried to see if there was something between her and Duncan. The first was after they’d been introduced and they had to share a room. She pounced on Grace to tell her everything and the reason why Duncan could not stop staring at her.
The girl was open and hearty. She took life simply and would laugh at the smallest things. Grace found it impossible to give her the cold shoulder. And once Maisie had latched on to the idea that there might be some tension between Grace and Duncan, she was solidly on her side.
She could not decide how that made her feel. Grace decided if she was going to do a great job hiding her identity, what better way to do it than claim an infatuation for the laird’s son. Already confused about the whole issue, it was easy.
“Give it time.” Maisie was saying. “He has ne’er been one tae make bad decisions. He might seem like an uncouth brute but nae one dictates what he should or shouldnae do.”
“Ah.”
“What dae ye mean ‘ah’. Dae ye want him or nae?”
“I will take sheets up tae Lady Sheena’s chambers. Goodbye…!”
“Coward!”
Grace fled for the second time that night. Thankfully, Maisie was too tired to talk and fell asleep the minute her head touched the pillow. On her side, Grace was struck awake by the image of wet Duncan. Those rivulets of water running down his tanned skin, the devilish smile he wore, just to infuriate her. Maisie assumed her situation was easy and Grace wished it were. The complications gnawed at her constantly. She cared for a man that had murdered her father. She was supposed to make a plan that would involve his death by her own hands. Yet, courage deserted her. Groaning, Grace dragged her blanket over her head and tried to get some sleep.
It’d not been easy adjusting to life at the castle. She had never done any housework and aside from dishes, she’d had to learn how to sweep and dust, how to make the simplest snacks for the ladies. How to make beds, fetch coal, change chamber pots (disgusting). Her palms had started to scab over with callouses from scrubbing the floors.
Grace had no choice. Her plan had been to find Clan Hay and she had. She couldn’t return home now or Ethan would find her. She was forced to stay until she could think of a solution. Or until she did what she had come for. Grace needed more time.
Their morning started at dawn; she could not stay up mooning over an engaged man who killed her father. She needed a distraction. When she heard Maisie getting up, she threw down the covers.
“Will ye see Flynn today?” Grace asked because Maisie was fleeting about the room, in her best dress and running a brush through her hair.
“Ye remembered! Aye. Ye might ken him, he was one of the warriors. We have nae seen each other since ye returned. They will be in the castle grounds for training.” She looked over at Grace. “Wow, ye didnae sleep well at all.”
Grouchy, Grace said, “I did!”
Maisie acted like Grace hadn’t been snappy. “Still disturbed by the sight from last night?”
“What sight?” Grace shoved the covers off her body, trying to change the topic of the conversation. “I like yer earrings.”
Maisie palmed the dangling trinkets, “Flynn got them fer me, tis me first time wearing them.”
“They suit ye. What are we doin’ today?”
“Washing,” Maisie quipped like it was the best thing in the world. Grace struggled to hide her exhaustion and got out of bed. They marched around the bedchambers collecting used clothes.
Grace kept one eye out for Duncan. When she had served drinks to him and the lairds the day before, he’d acted as if she would contaminate the wine. She’d felt horrible, only to end the day seeing him in the bathtub. Today, she was determined to steer clear from him. With one ear she listened to Maisie gush about her lover, Flynn. Apparently, the man was god’s gift to women. Even his sweat was gold. His laugh like honey.
