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“Aye, aye, whatever ye say.” Jonet chuckled nonetheless. She slipped her nightdress off and let Freya help her into her dress. “As I was sayin’ before ye so rudely laughed at me,” she went on, “I daenae trust him. There is somethin’ about him that doesnae sit right with me, and yesterday, I told him as much. Ye want to ken what he said?”
“I’m sure ye will tell me.”
Jonet ignored her noncommittal tone. “He told me I should trust him. That I should open me heart to love again. Can ye believe that?”
Once they had finished with the dress, Jonet sat on the edge of her bed and let Freya begin braiding her hair. The relaxing feel of her fingers combing through her thick strands calmed her somewhat, but it did not keep her anxiety from mounting as she remembered Matthew’s words to her. Jonet thought she would be able to talk about it, to brush it off as nonsense being sprouted so he could persuade her to marry him. Even though a voice in the back of her head told her that was the reason he had said such thing, the bigger part of her wanted to believe him.
She was terrified of that part of her.
“He sounds very romantic, Miss Jonet. I daenae understand what the problem is.”
Jonet sighed. “I suppose it sounds silly complainin’ about it, doesnae it?”
Freya said nothing and Jonet was glad for it. She was suddenly feeling at odds with herself. She had no plans to open up again. She would die alone, free from the burdensome guilt that came from her curse. Why was Matthew making her reconsider things?
The very thought of it made her a little angry, both at herself and at him. She had to strengthen her resolve. She had nearly kissed him yesterday! She could not allow that to happen again, couldn’t allow another slip in her armor.
There came a knock on her door and Jonet’s heart began to pound. Lately, there was only one reason why someone would come to her bedroom so early in the morning.
Could it be…?
“Excuse me, Miss Jonet,” said the maid who peeped in. “The Laird has asked that ye come down for breakfast shortly.”
“Is there a reason why?” Jonet asked slowly, not wanting to think too soon.
The maid nodded and Jonet’s heartbeat tripled its speed. “Aye, Miss Jonet. Ye have a guest. Mr. Matthew McDulaigh.”
“Thank ye.” The maid left, plunging the room into silence once more. Jonet said nothing for a short while, only letting her mind wander, jumping back and forth between what she should do and what she hated that she wanted to do.
She looked up at Freya. “Would ye mind doin’ me hair nicely today?”
Freya looked surprised at that and then a fleeting smile danced across her face. “Of course, Miss Jonet. I’ll make ye look bonnie.”
The presence of a new figure in the dining hall was an oddly welcome surprise that Jonet did not want to explore. Laden across the long stone table was bread, cold mutton, and cheese. The hearty conversation that could be heard far before arriving at the hall came to a halt when Jonet entered, all eyes falling on her.
Jonet was used to being the only woman in attendance during breakfast ever since her mother fell too ill to come. She had never once felt self-conscious, but now that there was another man sitting amongst them, she felt a little nervous about how she looked. She normally had her hair in either a braid, or loose and free.
This time, Freya had done a few small braids around the side of her head, pinning them together and letting the rest of her hair fall down around her back. It was a hairdo she was not used to and was not sure how well it would be received with everyone else… especially the one person she was hoping to impress.
“There she is!” boomed her father, lifting his large hands into the air. He already had a piece of meat in one hand. “Ye’re late, lass!”
“Am I late, Faither?” she asked, coming to take her seat next to him. She tried not to look at the man she was also sitting next to, the one that she was certain was watching her. “Or are ye just too impatient to begin eating?”
“Ah, she got ye there, Alexander,” said Dougal who was sitting on the other side of her father. “If she were a second later, ye would have finished half the table already.”
“It takes a lot to keep up a physique like this,” was what her father said in response, making everyone at the table laugh.
“All right, all right,” the Laird agreed. “Jonet, Mr. McDulaigh will be havin’ breakfast with us today.”
“So I see,” Jonet murmured, then she finally faced him. “Good mornin’, Matthew. I see ye are well.”
“As well as ever, Jonet,” he spoke in a low tone. His eyes were dark, steady on her face. It felt as if her heart had stopped pounding. “And ye look as lovely as ever. I adore the braids.”
She looked away, hoping he would see the blush staining her cheeks. “Freya decided to try her hand at it this morning. I think it came out nicely.”
“Is that so? I will have to thank this
Freya a little later.”
