Page 43 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

Beth’s expression softened. “Aye,” she murmured. “Mayhap she does.”

Warmth tugged inside Ailis at the quiet acceptance in those words.

She squeezed Lileas’ hand. “I have a grand idea for us.”

Lileas looked up immediately. “What kind?”

“The sort that gets us into trouble.”

The child’s eyes widened.

Beth pointed a warning finger at Ailis. “Daenae teach her that.”

“I would never.”

Beth gave her a doubtful look, but it made Ailis smile.

She led Lileas toward the far worktable. “Ye’ll help me which means Beth can work in peace.”

“Thank the saints,” Beth muttered.

Within minutes, they had claimed a length of white linen and spread it across the stone worktable.

Ailis fetched several shallow bowls and filled them with water. Then she raided Beth’s baskets for flowers that had begun to wilt but were still rich with color. There were poppies, blue dahlias, and even small white blossoms Lileas insisted were too pretty to crush.

Ailis handed her a flower. “Ye may keep that one.”

Lileas smiled. “Thank ye.”

“Now.” Ailis rolled up her sleeves. “Do ye ken how to paint?”

Lileas shook her head. “Nay.”

Ailis’s grin widened. “Excellent. That means I get to show ye.”

She crushed crimson petals between her fingers. Their color stained her skin. She mixed them into a little bowl of water until the liquid turned a rich red.

“See?”

Lileas leaned closer. “It looks like blood.”

Ailis paused then laughed.

“Ye have been spendin’ too much time listenin’ to Highland men.”

Lileas giggled.

Ailis dipped a thin brush into the paint and drew a long, curved stroke across the white fabric.

“Now watch.”

She added another line then another, and slowly, the shape of a horse appeared.

Lileas gasped. “A horse!”

“Aye.”

“How did ye do that?”