“Please—”
“—And then I’ll leave. A few words, nothing more.”
Her skepticism must have been clear because he held out his hand to her. “Trust me,” he said, and she had little choice but to comply.
As it turned out, she needn’t have worried because Mairi wasn’t going to let either of them get a word in edgewise. The woman was sitting on the railing eating an apple while she watched her father shape glass. Her face was flushed from the heat, but her mood appeared pensive. At least until she spotted them.
Then she leaped off the railing and rounded on Liam as if they’d been in the middle of an argument.
“So I’m to be given away like an old, shriveled apple, am I?” She tossed her apple core into the furnace with a powerful flick of her wrist. “The high and mighty Liam doesn’t want me, so he gifts me to the neighbor. I’ll have you know, Liam MacCleal, that I can pick my man without benefit of you. And that man—whomever he be—will be damned grateful for me.” She shoved her hand hard against his chest. “And do’ you forget it!”
She ended with a finger pointed straight at his face while Liam stared over her shoulder at Mairi’s father. “Wot the devil—”
“The Aberbeag came calling this morning,” her father said between blowing into a copper tube to expand the glass. “He had apples and fancy words—”
Mairi interrupted. “And he said you sent him! As how I wasn’t pining after you anymore, that left room for him to come pluck me. That’s what he said.Pluck me!”She dropped her hands onto her hips and glared at Liam. Her body quivered with fury, and it was clear she expected a response from Liam. An apology, most likely, but what she got instead was a low whistle.
“I’ll be damned. Connall’s got less skill with women than his horse.”
“Aye,” said her father as he pushed the glass back into the furnace. “Scotsmen are damned mutton-headed around women, as a rule, but Connall’s a bit stupider than most.”
Apparently so, if that was his idea of courting. But then Clara had rarely understood men and their idea of courtship. Mostly because she hadn’t paid any attention to it before Liam. So rather than allow the woman to go off onto another rant, Clara raised her hand to get the woman’s attention.
“I’ve come to get the keys,” she said. “And the coin for the castle. I’ve a need to pay the servants, and I’m told you’ve kept good records.”
“Records?” the woman sniffed. “I’ve watched every penny and know the coin which I’ve given to every soul around.”
Clara’s brows rose. “Without writing it down?”
“Paper’s expensive. Why would I mark what I can remember?”
“So I can know it.”
Mairi stared at her, and she looked back. No one—not even the men—did more than that. Clara knew that this was the time when Mairi would either submit to Clara’s new authority or fight everything and everyone. And who knew what damage would come from that?
Clara wanted to say something to ease the tension, but that had never worked well for her. Whatever she said inevitably made things worse. She held her tongue and her breath while she waited. Finally, Mairi conceded.
“You’ll be wanting the keys then.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve told them all that they will work for you as a good Scot—with pride in a job well done. They’ll not be slacking off because I’m not there. I told them that, every one. And those that don’t listen, you’ve got coin to tempt or turn off. I’ll not be having you blame pisspoor work on me.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve done my duty.”
“When I have the keys and coin, you have. And I’ll be having what’s in your brain, as well.”
“What?”
Clara gestured to Mairi’s head. “You said you remembered it all. Is that true?”
“Of course, it is!”
“Then tell me every bit of it.”
“As if you can remember what I do!”
Clara shrugged. “I’ll use a ledger.”
Liam nodded. “There should be one from when I kept it.”
