DIZZINESS SWEPT over Fiona.Christ’s tears. No.
Had he followed her?
Surely not.
Ailean stood just inside the doorway toThe Shepherd’s Crook. He was dressed lightly in dusty, dirty braies and lèine, his hair curling damply around the nape of his neck from the hot day. He didn’t look as if he’d just climbed off his horse.
But all the same, he was the last person on Mull she wished to see right now.
Frozen to the spot, she watched as he moved, crossing the common room floor and weaving in and out of a few tables in long, purposeful steps. And then he was standing in front of her.
“Fiona,” he greeted her, his voice slightly breathless. “I went looking for ye.”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Is that why ye’re here?”
“No,” he said, his voice lowering. “I’m the Steward of Ardnacross now. I’m repairing the tower north of the village.” He paused then. “Although I hoped ye might have passed this way.”
Her already racing pulse bucked against her ribs. Conflicting emotions crashed through her: foolish disappointment that he hadn’t come after her, and then sharp, piercing anger.
Did the knave think she’d be happy to see him?
All the same, his news—that he’d been made steward of this place—didn’t make sense at all. She wasn’t going to question him on it though. She just wanted him to be gone.
“I looked for ye in Craignure,” he said then.
She jolted. “I told ye I’d never go back there.”
He pulled a face. “Aye … after meeting yer kin, I understand why.”
Heat flushed over her.Oh God.Could her humiliation get any worse? Had he spoken to her parents? Her sisters?
Queasiness rose then. Now, they’d all know her shame. Her face started to burn, and she became aware that everyone in the tavern was staring at them.
This couldn’t go on.
She didn’t care what he was doing here. She just needed to get back to work for now and ignore him.
“Will ye be wanting ale and supper?” she asked curtly, gesturing to a free chair at one of the tables, where two crabbers were playing knucklebones.
“Aye,” he said, his voice subdued now. “Thank ye.”
“Good. Sit down then.” She turned on her heel and stalked back into the kitchen.
She realized, once she stepped inside, that she’d brought the jug and tankard with her—the tankard she’d been about to fill.
Damn it.It was only her first evening here, and she was already making herself look like she was useless.
Calm down, she told herself.Don’t let him rattle ye. Ye got here first. Ye have a job and a roof over yer head. Ye can’t let him ruin things for ye here too.
It might be a simple position at the tavern, but already a few hours in Eithne’s company had made her anxiety lessen a little. The woman was kind, as was her husband, Ewan. They’d given her a small room at the back of the building—a space all ofher own, even though it was cramped—and agreed to pay her a copper a day for her work.
She couldn’t let them down, because if she messed things up here, there were very few paths available to her.
Heaving in a deep breath, and then another, she tried to get control of herself.
“Is something amiss, Fiona?” Eithne looked up from where she was slicing mutton and placing it onto a trencher with coarse oaten bread.
“No,” she said quickly. “I just realized I forgot something.”
