She shook her head and placed both her hands on her hips in defiance.
“But I canna lose, for ye know as well as I do that Mae doesna love my brother. Even if she does, I doona fancy any man around here. Thank God for it, too, for ye know how unseemly ’twould be for a woman to confess her feelings to someone she is not betrothed to.”
Resuming her fast-paced trot toward the village, I ran to block her path.
“Mary, I know ye too well for ye to lie to me.”
“I never lie.”
“Aye, ye lie more than any good person ever should. Ye do care for a man here. Ye care for him verra much.”
The amusement in her face faded, and I could see that she wondered just how I could possibly know.
“Oh? And who might that be?”
“Our stable master—Kip.”
Even Mary’s skin, darkened from too much time outdoors, flushed red at the mention of Kip’s name. I beamed with triumph as I placed my hand on her shoulder.
“Did ye feel what yer face did? If Mae’s does the same, we will know I was right.”
Smiling, I turned and walked ahead of her.
My incessantly talkative friend fell silent.
Chapter 4
“Ye canna mean that ye truly intend to make me tell him. ’Twould be improper, and Kip wouldna care for it. ’Twill only make him uncomfortable. Please Morna, I beg ye. I’ll do anything else.”
Still in shock over losing the wager, Mary continued to protest as we made our way back to the castle in the dark. Upon arriving at Mae’s inn, I sent word back to the castle to inform my father that Mae needed help and I would be absent from dinner, freeing Mary and me to tend to the inn until every last traveler was fed and abed for the night.
While father wouldn’t approve of my helping in the inn any more than he did of my tending to Eoin, Mae’s father and my own were old friends. I knew he would make no issue of my desire to help them if it was only for one night.
Of course I wouldn’t force Mary to tell Kip of her feelings. I cared for my friend too much to embarrass her—not that I intended to tell her that just yet. Perhaps a few more minutes of dread would teach her to not doubt me so fiercely next time. While I wouldn’t force Mary to say anything, I did intend to at least get Mary and Kip in the same room in the hopes that their feelings for one another might be strong enough to persuade one of them to take action.
“Aye, ye will tell him for I doona know if Kip will ever have the courage to do what he should without it. We will stop in at his cottage on the way to the castle.”
Shaking her head in the moonlight, Mary repeated her astonishment for the tenth time since leaving the inn.
“I canna believe how easily Mae admitted it. She’s never said a word about Hew before this night.”
“’Tis no surprise to me that Mae answered ye honestly. Have ye ever known the lass to speak an untruth? I doona believe she’s capable of it.”
“Aye, I suppose ’tis true. Mae speaks her own mind too plainly to lie. Though, I must ask ye, Morna, did ye spell Mae to say what ye wished?”
An involuntary snort escaped me as I turned and looked at my friend to gauge the sincerity of her question.
“Mary, yer eye is still bruised from my attempt to send a wooden spoon across the kitchen to ye. Do ye truly believe I’ve the power to spell anyone to do anything?”
Rather than floating easily over to Mary’s hand as intended, the spoon had flown across the kitchen with such speed that it smashed against her face and knocked her to the ground. She’d been angry with me for days.
Mary shrugged, keeping her voice low as she answered.
“I doona know what I believe about ye anymore. I still doona know how ye discerned my feelings for Kip. I’ve never even whispered them aloud to myself.”
“’Tis a gift, not a spell. O’course I dinna spell Mae to do anything.”
Kip’s cottage lay just to the east of the castle’s stables. His home was dark as we approached.
