Isla considered this. “Then why did this Ainsley girl mention that you had told her she might become my maid permanently if she did her job well?”
So much for the wee tart’s “discretion,” then, Seamus thought sourly.
Out loud, he answered, “I am sure she misunderstood, Daughter. She is young, after all, and no doubt incredibly ambitious and eager to please in order to rise above her current station. I will speak to her after the ceremony and correct her. Until then, though, she will be at yer disposal.”
His glib explanations made Isla feel deeply uneasy. In that moment, she wanted more than anything to talk to Brodie—to tell him of this conversation, and see if he agreed that it was suspicious. Perhaps it was still not too late to find a way out of this marriage, if she could only consult with him.
“Father, I wish to speak with Brodie,” she said. “Do you know if he is in his chamber?”
“Aye, as far as I know,” Seamus told her, “but I cannot allow ye to see him before the ceremony. Ye know what bad luck that would bring upon yer union, and I cannot allow that. There have already been too many complications during these proceedings, and I’ll not have ye inviting more upon yer lovely head.”
Isla put her hands on her hips. “You would truly prevent me from seeing the man who is to be my husband? In the name of some daft superstition?”
He grinned. “Try me, Daughter. In fact, I shall post guards outside his chamber to keep ye out, in case ye decide to try. I’ll not let ye do anything to jeopardize yer wedding day.”
“That is very kind of you, Father,” she said through gritted teeth, turning and walking out.
