He could go to the devil. She’d take the life of a lady’s companion over being his wife and personal drudge. She doubted any woman would wish to marry such an egotistical, self-satisfied, irritating—
The sound of a footstep by the wheelbarrow broke off her thoughts in mid-tirade. She looked up over the box wall, hoping it was Aidan. If it was, she wouldn’t hold back. She would give him a good piece of her mind.
But it wasn’t her husband.
It was one of the Whiskey Girls—the young dark-haired one whom Aidan had asked to bed the night Anne had arrived. She stood by the wheelbarrow, her doelike eyes apprehensive.
Anne lifted her chin in disdain. For a long moment, the two women took each other’s measure. The Whiskey Girl dropped her gaze first.
“May I help you?” Anne asked, her tone imperious. She hated being caught performing such a debasing job as mucking out stalls by the likes of a Whiskey Girl.
The girl rubbed her palms on her skirt. Her voice shook slightly when she said in a soft, lilting accent, “Please, my lady. I’ve come to ask for a job.”
Anne was incredulous. “You want a position in my employ?”
The girl’s eyes appeared ready to swallow her face. Her feet took one step back from Anne but she answered, “Yes, my lady.”
Leaning the fork against the wall, Anne walked out of the stall and took a good hard look at the doxy. She was a lovely thing, younger than Anne herself. But it almost seemed as if youth itself had passed her by. The difference was in her eyes. They had seen too much to be innocent.
The Whiskey Girl shifted her weight from one foot to another, ill-at-ease under such scrutiny.
Anne frowned. The girl’s request was preposterous. It was an affront to Anne that she’d even made the appeal.
Crossing her arms against her chest, Anne said, “What is your name?” Aidan had used it the other night, but Anne had forgotten.
“Cora, my lady.”
Yes, Cora. She forced herself to look at the girl as she asked the question burning in her mind. “Are you my husband’s mistress?”
Aidan’s conscience had started to bothered him.
He’d left to go to the sheep shed, but couldn’t rid himself of the image of his strong, stubborn Anne swallowing her self-respect and mucking out the barn. He understood that kind of pride. Her dignity touched him.
He turned around and headed back. He’d tell her she didn’t have to do the chore and round up Davey to finish it. He didn’t know how he was going to convince her to leave, but he couldn’t do it this way.
He’d been about to enter the barn from a side door when he realized Anne wasn’t alone. She was talking to Cora. What the devil was distiller Nachton McKay’s youngest daughter doing here?
Then Anne rocked him backward by asking, “Are you my husband’s mistress?”
He immediately ducked back into the shadows, holding his breath, waiting for Cora’s answer.
The color drained from the Whiskey Girl’s face…and Anne thought she knew the answer. Part of her, the practical side, wondered inanely why she had asked the question—but her woman’s sensibility understood she could not live at Kelwin and have everyone know what she didn’t.
“Not his mistress, my lady,” Cora whispered.
“Then what?” Anne asked, still fearing the answer.
“I’ve slept in his bed a time or two.” She swallowed. “But not since I was told he was married. Neither my sisters or me will lie with a married man.”
Her honest confession went straight to Anne’s heart. Of course, Aidan would choose this girl as bed partner and not herself. Cora was lovely and round and soft—and sensual. She knew the mysteries of what happened between men and women. Anne did not.
Worse, in the presence of this sensual younger woman, Anne felt like a child. “I’m sorry,” she heard herself say, as if from a great distance. “We have no position open.” She backed toward the door and then turned, ready to run, not knowing where she was going or why.
Cora stopped her. “Please, my lady. I overheard them talking amongst themselves in the village that you were going to hire help. Please let me have a chance. I can work hard.”
The catch in the girl’s voice caught Anne’s attention. She hesitated, and then forced herself to face her rival. She drew a steadying breath. “Why should I give you a chance? I need a maid to help in the house where you would be close to my husband at