Page 10 of Defy the Highlander

Loo-cee-uh…

A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. He thought it was rather fortuitous that she’d asked him what talents he had. He had many and, hopefully, one of them would fill a need at Hawkhill. If he could simply stay in this cottage, he would be willing to work hard for it. He wasn’t lazy by any means, but depression had a way of destroying a man’s motivation.

Somehow, Lilia had turned that around.

Therefore, he sat in the bathwater and waited for her to return. But time passed and the bathwater grew downright cold before he forced himself to climb out and wrap up in the drying linens she’d brought. An old man had brought him dry straw and blankets, and he managed to fashion an acceptable bed out of them. Much better than the bed he had in that stuffy loft.

Clean for the first time in months, he sat down on his straw bed and wolfed down the bread and cheese. He was chowing down on the apples when the door opened, producing a skinny lad with matted hair.

He looked at Brody with a great deal of uncertainty.

“Are ye…?” He stopped, swallowed, and started again. “Are these clothes for ye?”

Brody could only guess that they were, considering he had nothing to wear. “Lilia took my clothing,” he said. “Where is she?”

The boy timidly entered. “She’s with m’lady,” he said. “She told me tae bring ye these.”

He extended the wad of clothing and Brody took it. Curiously, he held up the tunic. It was made for a large man and was perhaps a bit roomy for him, but he didn’t care. It was in good condition, as were the breeches.

“Thank ye,” he said. “Who do these belong tae?”

The child threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Old Roy,” he said. “He’s the smithy. He also pulls teeth if ye have a toothache. Do ye have a toothache?”

Brody shook his head, grinning. But the lad continued to stand, an intensely curious expression on his face. He couldn’t have been more than eight or ten years and already Brody could see that his hands were chapped and callused from hard work.

He was a child who was used for labor.

“What’s yer name, lad?” he asked.

“Tynan.”

“Where’s yer mam?”

The boy pointed towards the manse. “She’s a servant tae m’lady,” he said. “She brushes m’lady’s hair and cleans her chamber.”

“I see,” Brody said. “And what do ye do?”

“I wash,” Tynan said, making scrubbing motions. “I wash the floors and stone. Sometimes I even wash the horses.”

“Oh.”

“What’s yer name?”

“Brody,” he said. It seemed to him that the lad was a bit chatty and, realizing that, he thought he might be able to find out a little more about Lilia from the boy. “Ye said yer mam works for m’lady?”

“Aye.”

“M’lady is Lady Currie?”

“Aye.”

“She has a lot of servants.”

The boy nodded firmly. “My mam and others,” he said. “Even Lilia.”

That was the exact subject Brody wanted to speak on. “Do ye know much of Lilia, then?”

“She and my mam are friends,” he said. “I’ve known Lilia since she came here.”