Far more decisively he said, “I will go and speak wi’ the men, set a guard. Mak’ sure everyone is prepared. Hope that the physician arrives in time.”
“I want to check on Bonnie. And wi’ yer mother occupied, I will check wi’ the women in the kitchen also.” The kitchen afforded an untold number of weapons. As she knew, a knife could make for a fine defense.
She would have stepped away from Alan then, but he held her there, still gripping her hands. He bent his head and bestowed a kiss.
No demand was this kiss. It came gently, tasting more of devotion than passion. The soft, questing, yearning of it melted Annista’s heart and closed her eyes.
Och, aye, she could well be in love with this man. “Take care,” she bade him when it ended, and left him while still she could.
Upstairs, she headed directly for her own chamber, anxious to connect with her maid, only to be startled when a shadow at the end of the gallery sprang apart into two. For an instant she thought the worst, that Evan was there after all, having got into the house ahead of them.
But her eyes, adjusting to the gloom, told her the truth. Two figures, aye, and the smaller was Bonnie. The other?
She did not recognize him till he spoke in his deep voice. “Mistress.”
Seumas.
Before she could blink, he stepped away past her to the stairs.
“Master Alan has need o’ ye,” she called after him, and he quickened his steps.
“Mistress!” Bonnie gasped.
Annista towed the girl into her chamber where the windows provided some light. There she saw that her little maid—usually as neat and tidy as could be—looked disheveled, her hair half tumbled from beneath her cap, her cheeks flushed.
“Wha’ was that?” Annista demanded before thinking. “Wha’ were ye doin’ there wi’ Seumas?”
If possible, the color in Bonnie’s cheeks deepened. And she did not need to say after all.
“Oh.”
Bonnie’s deep blue eyes met hers. “Miss, it started out wi’ him reassuring me. I was right frightened, see, and he was left to guard the chamber. ’Twas only natural that he should provide comfort…”
Natural, aye. A woman and a man coming together was, surely, that. But—
Bonnie was her responsibility. Granted, she had failed, earlier, to protect her from Evan. Had even abandoned her after, in favor of Alan’s chamber and her own desires.
If this went badly, it would be Annista’s own fault.
She sighed. “I suppose I canna blame ye. He is a fine-looking man, is Seumas.”
“He is decent and kind. I never dreamed o’ meeting anyone like to him.”
“Ha’ ye lain wi’ him?” They’d had the opportunity, as God knew.
“Och, nay, mistress! ’Twas but kisses and—and a bit o’ a cuddle. We talked together long and—”
“Ye were kissing in the corridor just now?”
“Aye, Miss.”
“Do no’ look so downcast. I will no’ fault ye for it. Ye be yer own woman, and a woman maun mak’ her choices, for good or ill.” When she could.
Bonnie brightened. “I would choose him if I might. He has no’ offered, ye understand—”
Not yet. But if Bonnie were to remain here when all was said and done—did she, Annista, want to remain here? With Alan? Then Bonnie would likely stay with her. And in such case, it would be right and proper for the maid to find a measure of happiness.
Following impulse, Annista hugged her maid. “I am that glad for ye.”
