Page 46 of Fletcher

“Good morning.” Valerie caught up with her in the passage, and in her arms carried a bundle of tunics. “I was wondering if you could do some custom tailoring for the laird. He’s gained a little weight, and as a result everything’s become a bit tight on him.”

“Come in.” She opened the door to the guest chamber for her, and followed her inside. “If you’ll put those shirts on the table there, I’ll take a look.”

“It’s not that I dislike Connal in skin-tight clothes, but summer is coming, and the wool chafes a bit.” The laird’s wife went over to the hearth and surveyed the cold ashes inside. “You’re not sleeping here, are you?”

“Obviously not.” She wondered if she could tell the other woman to mind her own business without offending her.

“Don’t mind me being nosy. Questioning everything is my greatest strength, and biggest flaw,” Valerie said, smiling. “When I first came here some of the clan thought I could benefit from some quality time in the dungeons.”

Lark stared at her. “Who said that?”

“Oh, no one actually said it out loud.” Valerie lifted a hand and wriggled her fingers. “I read their minds. That’s why all the men stay away from me, by the way.”

For a moment she wished she could trade super powers with the laird’s wife. Mind-reading certainly would come in handy so she could find out what Fletcher was thinking. “At least no one can lie to you, so that’s a good thing.”

“Nyall wouldn’t agree.” Valerie tilted her head as she regarded her. “Everything okay with you and our seneschal?”

“We’re fine.” She held up one of the tunics. “Idonea made these with generous seams, so it looks like I can let them out a few inches. I’d prefer to measure the laird first before I alter them, if he has time.”

“I’ll corner him about it when he comes back from the farms. He’s talking to the drovers about keeping the new lambs penned until we find that shark, and changing the routes they take with their flocks to avoid the inlets.” She came to stand beside her. “You should also know that I wouldn’t ever read your mind without your permission. That’s why I didn’t try to shake hands when we first met.”

Lark relaxed a little. “I appreciate that.”

“I respect that you’re a very private person, because I happen to be in love with a guy who keeps his cards very close to his chest,” Valerie said, winking. “Just remember that any time you need someone to talk to who understands the immense suffering caused by unfulfilled longing for pizza, French fries and hot chocolate, I’m available.”

Charmed now, she nodded. “I’ll keep you in mind.”

A short time later Lark met Idonea in the great hall, where they shared their morning meal before setting out for the village near the stronghold. Lark mostly listened as the seamstress related the lengthy and fairly arduous process of turning flax plants into linen cloth, but her thoughts kept wandering back to Fletcher.

A touch on her arm made her look at Idonea, who chuckled.

“You’ve no’ heard a word I’ve said since we entered the forest,” the seamstress said. “What plagues you, lass? Surely no’ our handsome Seneschal.”

“How do you know if a man is falling in love with you?” she blurted out, and then cringed. “I just don’t want things to go too far with Fletcher.”

“Och, such days I’ve no’ known since I came here, and younger than you,” the older woman said. “In those days Chieftain Shaw oft flirted with me, you ken, as he shall with every pretty lass, only I became besotted with another MacMar. ’Twas thrilling to imagine myself his. Indeed, I wanted naught more.”

She wanted to ask who it was, but realized that would be like what Valerie had done to her earlier. “What happened between you?”

“Naught, of course.” Idonea sighed. “As a maiden with a timid nature, I couldnae confess to him. As the seasons passed I too saw why the clan didnae love nor wed mortals. I ever grew older, but he never changed. Indeed, the day soon came when I looked more like his mam than a lass he might love.”

The thought of Fletcher watching her grow elderly while he stayed the same left Lark even more depressed. “Did you ever tell him?”

The seamstress shook her head. “I reckoned for the sake of my hopeless love I’d end a spinster, but in time the clan’s head carpenter courted me. I didnae love Rabert, but I suspected he’d make a good husband, and growing old alone frightened me. We wed that spring, and spent thirty-four years contented together before old age ended him.”

As they continued along the trail Lark wondered if Idonea had told her about her long-lost love because she was worried about her.

“I’m not in love with Fletcher,” she told the seamstress. “I’ve had some bad experiences with love, so I just want to be sure that he isn’t falling for me.”

“Men dinnae speak of their hearts,” Idonea said. “You must judge by their acts. Seneschal looks at no one else when you’re near him. Even when you dinnae notice him, he stands in the arches while we sew in the hall and watches you. His voice changes when he speaks your name, and when you speak, he smiles with pleasure.”

She sounded almost as if she disapproved.

“He’s only being nice,” Lark protested. “He’s watched out for me since I came here. The rest is just…physical attraction. We have very strong chemistry between us.”

The seamstress gave her a scathing look. “’Tis what you call loving in your time?”

“I don’t love him.” A little disgruntled now, Lark looked ahead to see the thatched roofs of the cottages in the village. “Where do they grow the flax plants here?”