Page 29 of Highlander’s Dangerous Gambler

Aileen scrunched her eyes. It was still too hard. She just did not know.

Giving a sigh, Aileen wondered what on earth she was meant to do around here. McLeod had made it clear enough she was not meant to go anywhere, even if he had not spelled it out exactly.

And that was not all. Hobbling over to the writing desk, Aileen spied another of Laird McLeod's instructions.

Her letter! Reaching over to the bureau, Aileen found the quills and quickly discovered a creamy sheet of parchment placed below. Evidently, he was serious about her writing to her sister.

Frowning, she sat down, pulling up the heavy mahogany chair with a loud scrape. With nothing better to do, she lifted the quill.

Alright. He wanted a letter to Fiona, well then he would get one! Eyes glinting, Aileen began to write.

It took a few attempts for her to find the right words. Knowing full well that McLeod's spies would be reading it, she thought carefully before she wrote.

Dearest sister,

Apologies for my continued absence. Whilst riding, I fell from my horse an' was helped by the Laird o' McLeod muchly back to health.

There is much to tell, but I beg ye nae to fash. The Laird has been most generous. As soon as I am able I will return wi' news.

Remember what we spoke o' afore I left? Nothing has changed, but we have much to discuss.

May almighty Jesus keep ye safe,

God speed,

Aileen

Just as she was sealing it, a voice from behind made her almost leap into the air.

"Och, miss, ye should ha' called me!"

Aileen nearly fell off her chair in surprise. Behind her stood Nessa, the timid little maid. But from the look on the girl's face, Aileen wasn't the only one who had received a shock.

Nessa's eyes widened as she opened and shut her mouth. In dismay, Aileen realized she was staring at her. Her dress, to be precise.

"Oh!" started Aileen. Self-consciously she stood, looking down, following the girl's rounded eyes. "Is something...wrong? I..."

"Och, miss," said Nessa, coming closer to take a look. For a moment, Aileen really did worry. She was going to tell her the dress belonged to someone else—well, she supposed it did. Unsurely, Aileen bit her lip.

"I'm sorry, this is someone else's. I'll take it off," said Aileen self-consciously. Nessa shook her head.

"Nay," she said, walking over to Aileen and straightening up the dress. Without being bidden, she tightened up some of the laces and fastenings on the frock. "Dinnae fash, miss. I was just sorry that ye didnae call for me to help ye put it on, that's all."

The girl bustled around, fixing the robe, but even as she did so, Aileen got the impression something was troubling her.

"Who...who's is this frock?" asked Aileen at last. The question had been burning inside her for some time.

Nessa's silence answered her more than words could. After a prolonged pause, she replied, "The laird's wife, Lady McLeod," she said with a brief smile. Aileen felt her stomach turn to dust.

"Nay," she said, her mouth falling ajar. "I...I didnae ken. I'll take it off. I'm sorry."

Softly, the maid's hands pressed against her shoulder. "Nay," she said gently. "No need to do that, mistress. The lady has no further use for them."

Aileen looked up sharply. Nessa nodded meekly.

"She's been dead many a year," said Nessa softly. She cast her mousy head down as Aileen looked on. Silently, the maid carried on fussing, tightening and reshaping Aileen's gown.

At last, she seemed satisfied with her appearance.