“No. Say nothing to Mae. I’ll see him shaved and readied for this charade of yers. Ye should be ashamed of yerself, Alasdair.”
Alasdair laughed.
“Ye can tell him if ye like. Doona take long with him. Father will wish to see ye when ye return to the castle. He believes that ye’ve been here helping Mae, and ye know he will tell ye that he doesna care for it.”
I had no wish to spend more time with the man than necessary. I wanted to return to the castle so I could see the surprise Alasdair mentioned the day before.
“Aye, I know. Go on. I’ll follow ye shortly.”
A few moments later, I returned to Jerry’s room with a blade and bowl of water in hand. He eyed me skeptically.
“I’ve no desire to rid myself of my facial hair.”
“Are ye in need of work? If so, I doona believe ye have a choice.”
Pointing to a wooden seat in the room’s corner, I waited for him to sit. He held out a hand to stop me as I approached.
“Wait. If ye mean to put a blade to my throat, I must at least know yer name first.”
Setting the water bowl down on the table next to him, I reached forward to comb through the hair with my fingers. It was wiry and filthy. I couldn’t wait to see what he looked like without it.
“I canna believe it dinna occur to ye to ask our names before now. ’Tis yer own fault my brother has fooled ye so. My name is Morna Conall, and the man who just offered to present ye to the laird is my brother, Alasdair—the laird’s son.”
Enjoying the look of embarrassed horror in his eyes, I set about my work.
Chapter 9
“Now that ye know who I am, ye might as well tell me the truth. The lass ye spoke of before…her name was Grier, aye?”
For the first part of his grooming—while I messily sawed away at the length of hair extending from his face—Jerry said nothing to me. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to know everything. How did he know Grier, and why was he still under the impression that she was dead?
Surprised, he glanced up at me, and I had to look away. The more I looked at his eyes, the more familiar they felt to me, and I found it difficult to maintain eye contact with him.
“Did ye know her?”
Tossing a length of hair onto the floor, I nodded. I knew I needed to be careful about what I revealed to him. While he gave the impression that he and Grier were quite close, I knew it wasn’t safe to assume that he knew about her magic.
“Aye. She was one of my grandmother’s dearest friends. I spent much time with Grier when I was younger.”
This seemed to surprise him, and I knew that I’d been wise to say nothing of her magic.
“Friends with yer grandmother? She canna be that much older than ye are.”
Twisting to clean the blade to ready it for application to his face, I smirked to myself. Grier never told men the truth about her age. If she did, she’d have a much harder time seeing them to her bed.
A flash of this man entangled with Grier flew unbidden into my mind. While I had no reason to have any feelings about such an image, I found it immensely displeasing.
Ignoring his statement about her age, I asked the same question I’d asked him earlier.
“Were ye truly married to her?”
Confirming my suspicions, he shook his head just one half motion to the right as I reached to steady his chin to clean away the first full strip of hair.
“Why did ye tell us that ye were?”
With one run of the blade completed, he seemed convinced that I didn’t intend to slit his throat. He visibly relaxed.
“In truth, I canna believe yer brother left ye alone to tend to me. Had I known him to be so openminded, I might have told ye the truth. Grier and I were never married, though I lived with her for the past year.”
