Doing her best to avoid Lareina’s curious eyes, Fiona helped serve the food, and when she sat down, her heart seemed a hundred miles away from her. They ate mostly in silence, Seamus staring at her all the while, that same strange look in his eye, and she noticed that Lareina seemed distracted as well, glancing back and forth between her husband and her stepdaughter, concern on her face.
They know, Fiona thought to herself. They know everything I’ve done. Wishing to curry favor, she decided to tell them about her interaction with Rowan. She knew Seamus wanted her to try to meet the girl. She knew he was looking for any possible way to make contact with her uncle.
“I’ve met my cousin,” she said after swallowing down a crusty piece of bread.
“You have?” the glassblower said, grinning. “Well now, that’s fantastic, it is. What did you talk about? Did she ask about us? Did she say why her father won’t see us? Did she invite you over?”
“Darling,” Lareina said, laying a hand on her husband’s arm. “Why don’t you let her speak?”
They looked to Fiona that she might go on.
Fiona shrugged, trying to seem calm and detached, but inside she felt frantic, doing anything she could to keep them from noticing the unfamiliar stirrings of her heart.
“She seemed nice enough. We didn’t talk long. We met on the path, and she introduced herself. We talked about the weather, and I told her some of what it was like back home.”
“Did you make plans to speak again?” the glassblower asked eagerly, and though they had not, Fiona had a feeling that such an answer would not be acceptable, so she nodded.
“Yes. We’ve not planned a specific time. She just said if we met again and neither of us had chores to do, that we might walk and talk some more.”
Goi Flint rubbed his hands together and smiled proudly. “That’s a good girl,” he said. “I knew you could do it.” And then he cocked his head and stared at her. “You look different.”
“Do I?” she asked, raising a hand to her cheek as if to hide the kiss she wore there.
“You do,” he said. “Older somehow. More lovely. You know, Lareina,” he said, a twisted grin on his face, “I think it’s true. Fiona Eira is now even fairer than you.”
Lareina, not knowing how to reply, nodded, and picking up their plates, headed to the kitchen. When she was out of sight, she set them down on the first space she saw and leaned her back against the wall. She was shaking, trying to catch her breath, trying desperately to quiet the dread that was slowly swelling in her breast.
When Rowan returned home that night, she found Emily in the kitchen, washing dishes.
“Where are our guests?” Rowan asked, eager to finally meet them.
“Gone out,” Emily said, raising an eyebrow to show her disapproval.
“Gone out?” Rowan said, disappointed. “But it’s night. Where could they have gone?”
Emily shrugged. “No business of mine. If the lot of them catch the chill, it’s not my doing.”
Rowan was confused, but she was also hurt. Her father had kept her from the guests all day, and when she returned, they were gone? Was he ashamed of her? Did he not think she was good enough for his guests?
“That seems odd,” she said, looking out the window into the snow beyond.
Emily leaned into the counter. “You want to know what seems odd? I’ll tell you what seems odd. This duke, I ask you, how many servants do you think he brought with him?”
Rowan opened her mouth to speak, but then she was struck by the utter quiet of the house, and she began to see what Emily meant.
“Not one!” Emily proclaimed, unable to hide the frustration in her widening eyes. “I’m supposed to look after you lot, and the brother of the queen, without a bit of help? It’s downright disgraceful. Rude, it is. What kind of nobleman doesn’t travel with a valet or a lady’s maid for his ward? ‘Oh, don’t mind us,’ he says. ‘We take care of ourselves. We’re not like the others.’ I’m supposed to believe that?”
Emily turned back to the dishes, and Rowan could feel the anger radiating from her. She had to admit it seemed exceedingly strange that the duke had not brought his own people, but then, she’d never met a duke before.
“If you need help …” Rowan tried to choose her words carefully, for she knew how offended Emily could get about anything she perceived as criticism. “Give me chores, and I shall do them.”
Emily softened, and setting aside the dish she was drying, she held a hand to Rowan’s cheek. “Aw, sweet, I know you will. You’re a good girl. Always have been. I’m just testy tonight. I saved your supper over there. You must be starving.”
“I’m sorry for missing supper. I lost track of time.”
“You didn’t miss much,” Emily said, turning back to her work. “Listening in on them, I swear you would have died from boredom. And the three of them certainly ate enough. They must have gone though a week’s worth of my supplies, I tell you.”
Rowan took a piece of raw carrot and popped it in her mouth.
“What were they discussing?”
“Goddess, I don’t know. It seemed to be mostly about what happened up on Beggar’s Drift. How you can spend an entire dinner discussing such things, I don’t know. Surely that can’t be considered polite.”
Rowan laughed and reached for another carrot, but Emily slapped her hand away.
“Like I said, yours is over there. You eat it up in your room. I’ve had all I can handle down here tonight.”
Rowan took a plate from Emily and began drying it. “What are they like? Is the duke as handsome as everyone says?”
“Well, I have my Bill, of course.” Emily lowered her voice and smiled. “So I’m not one to say, but I can tell you they make their men mighty pretty in the palace city.”
“Emily!” Rowan laughed.
“He certainly lovelies up the place, I’ll give him that.”
“And the little girl?” Rowan asked. “What’s she like?”
A glorious smile spread across Emily’s lips. “Oh, she’s a doll. I could eat her up. You’re going to love her, Ro.”
Rowan was more excited than ever to meet the girl. She had visions of taking her on long walks, maybe even reading to her.
“Did you find out how long they’re staying?”
Emily cocked her head. “Oh yeah, sure. The queen’s brother rushed right into the kitchen to tell the servant girl all his business.” She handed Rowan another plate to dry.
Rowan laughed and started drying the plate, but her thoughts drifted as she gazed out the window. Snow was coming down heavy now, and somewhere out there her Tom was dreaming of a girl that wasn’t her.
Fiona Eira was preparing for bed when a knock came at her door. She wore only her white nightgown but assumed it was Lareina, so she called for her to come in. She tried to disguise her surprise at seeing Seamus, for he was not accustomed to visiting her room. Instinctively she crossed her arms in front of her and nodded to him. He looked strange, and he stank of ale. He closed the door behind him.
“I thought I might speak to you a moment, girl,” he said.
He took a seat on her bed and motioned for her to sit beside him. He smiled at her strangely, almost as if he were leering at her.
“Fiona,” he said, his breath coming in malodorous waves. “I thought it might be a good time to have a talk, you and I.”
“A talk?” She inched away, confused by the way he looked at her.
He smiled, baring his teeth, and then he put his hand on her knee. It took all of her strength not to recoil.
“You’re a pretty lass, you know that, don’t you?”
Slowly his hand began to slide up the inside of her leg. She gasped, then froze, horrified. She felt as though she were drowning. She stared straight ahead, her insides gone suddenly numb. She could feel tears slide down her face as she concentrated on the grain of the wood on the wall in front of her.