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“He’s being understandably stubborn considerin’ the position he’s in.”
Jonet sighed. Just as she wanted, this topic was distracting her from her dream, but she did not know if thinking about the mysterious Matthew was the best thing for her. “I ken. But I daenae want anythin’ to happen to—”
“Don’t ye say it,” Christal warned. “Ye ken better than to give in to such silly rumors.”
“Maybe it isnae a rumor,” Jonet murmured.
“So ye really think ye might be cursed?” Christal sounded incredulous. “It was only a coincidence, dear. That had nothin’ to do with ye. Ye weren’t there. Ye didn’t touch them. Ye didn’t tell Mr. Luther to go huntin’ for ye and Mr. Anderson went to sleep without ye.”
“But they were both me betrothed,” she murmured. “And now they’re…”
“Dead, aye,” Christal’s voice was blunt. “But it still isnae yer fault. Ye had nothin’ to do with it.”
Jonet wasn’t sure she could be so certain about that.
“But,” she went on, “the merchant dinnae even mention the curse. He acted as if he dinnae ken.”
“It wouldn’t be very nice of him to do so, would it? I imagine he’s tryin’ to make a good impression on the Laird. God knows that man is terrifyin’.”
“He dinnae seem scared of me Faither, either.”
Jonet watched as Christal put the final touches on the milk. “Ye daenae know what he might have been thinkin’. He could have been sweatin’ in his boots for all ye ken.”
“Aye,” Jonet responded, trailing off. “Ye’re right.”
“I am right. Now, here. Drink this.”
The sharp tang of whiskey in the milk was enough to make Jonet’s nose itch, but she knew how much weight Christal put on the drink, thinking it to be the perfect way to start the day and so she downed it in one go.
The effects hit her instantly, a hum throughout her body that did revitalize her more than before.
“What did I tell ye?” Christal asked with a broad grin. “It’s great for when ye feeling down.”
“Aye,” Jonet handed her back the cup. “The same thing ye’ve told me many times before.”
“Oh, hush, ye. Now, ye go on up and get dressed. And ye better nae crawl back into bed again.”
“Ah, ye caught me.” Jonet hopped off the stool, raising her hands. “I will come down to bother ye, instead.”
“Ye think ye are tryin’ to get me riled up but I would welcome the company.”
Jonet laughed. “What of the other maid that helps ye?”
“She is much too young and innocent,” Christal said. “She gets startled whenever I open me mouth.”
Jonet hummed. “I cannae imagine why.”
“Oh, ye be quiet, lass,” Christal ordered sharply, making Jonet laugh again. “Ye ken I always try to make the maids feel comfortable whenever they’re workin’ with me.”
“I ken, I ken,” Jonet sang, and smiled broadly when Christal’s face went red with annoyance. Christal never understood that she was not as approachable as she thought she was and Jonet never failed to poke fun at that fact.
Jonet lifted a hand as she made her way to the steps, still grinning from ear to ear. As she had expected, being in Christal’s company had cheered her up, but she did not think it would have put her in this good a mood. At that moment she thought she was really ready to take on the world.
“Thank ye for the milk, Christal,” Jonet said in farewell. “I think me steps will be much lighter thanks to that.”
“Oh, God,” Christal called from behind, her voiced laced with both humor and horror. “Ye dinnae get drunk, did ye?”
“Ye will never ken,” Jonet chirped as she headed up the steps. Her continuing laughter echoed around the closed walls and for a few moments, she no longer remembered the reason she had been so upset. Though bit by bit, second by second, the dream kept creeping back to the forefront of her mind and it forced the smile right from her face.
