the chapel.”
“I’ll tell the others.”
Aidan stopped Hugh before he walked away. “Tell my wife, too, will you? She’s in the barn.”
If Hugh thought it strange Aidan didn’t want to inform Anne himself when he stood mere feet away from her, he didn’t comment. Instead, he did as bidden.
Aidan waited, listening to Anne’s response. She told Hugh she had one stall to finish and then she and Cora would come.
Thoughtfully, Aidan trudged his way to the chapel. Deacon fell into step beside him. “It’s a stroke of brilliance!” he practically crowed.
“What are you talking about?” Aidan asked, irritated.
“Having the English lass clean the stables. You are a genius, Tiebauld. A strategic genius. With you in our rebellion, the English will never be able to outfox us.”
“Deacon?”
“Hmmm?”
“Sod off.” Aidan went into the chapel. It held less than twenty-five people. The inside had a pulpit, several rows of chairs, and not much more. The coachman was laid out in a hastily built casket in front of the pulpit. Several members of his clan drifted in.
A few minutes later, Anne arrived. He sensed her presence before he saw her. The very air seemed to vibrate and churn with her unique energy. Turning toward the door, he smiled. She’d taken a moment to tidy her hair.
Ever the proper Englishwoman, he thought with a touch of admiration.
And being such, she walked the short distance up the aisle to where he stood. She slipped into the chair beside his, but she was careful not to touch him in any way.
The Reverend Oliphant began the service. Aidan wasn’t listening to the words of comfort and a promise of a hereafter. Instead, he thought about hair pins. Anne had said in the stall she wished for some. It was such a small thing, but the sort of item women liked and men never thought of.
It wouldn’t take him a bit of time to ride to Wick and buy her a few. Might cheer her a bit.
Through the ceremony and the subsequent burial, he was aware of her genuine grief. She’d liked the coachman. He hovered close, in case she became emotional. But Anne didn’t break down. She had too much pride. Her strength pleased him—until the ceremony was over and she turned on her heel and walked away, out the opposite side of the small row of chairs, without so much as a glance in his direction. Marching up to the Reverend Oliphant, she asked him to join them for lunch, an invitation heartily accepted, and then she left the chapel, heading for the kitchen.
Aidan hurried to catch up. “Anne?”
She stopped, her shoulders stiff. “Yes?”
He slowed. He had nothing else to say. He groped for words. “Are you all right?”
She softened then. “I’ll be fine. Todd was a nice man. It was a sad passing. So sudden.”
“A funeral is always sobering.”
Her head nodded agreement. “It reminds us of how fragile life is.”
Now it was his turn to nod.
“Well, I’d best talk to Mary about lunch,” she murmured.
He let her leave. Usually glib around women, he hadn’t been able to think of a single sensible word to detain her longer. Her eyes were what tied his tongue. Their gaze was so honest, so direct and forthright, they made him feel like a royal bastard. Why did he choose today, knowing the Reverend Oliphant could arrive, to prove his point and order her to clean the stables?
During lunch, Aidan felt left out of the conversation. The Reverend Oliphant liked Anne. The two of them actually had much to discuss. Of course, the topic was mainly religion. Aidan had nothing to add. The last time he’d set foot in a church for a Sunday service had been in London.
“I pray to see you in chapel, my lady,” the Reverend Oliphant said.
“Of course, I will be there,” she answered.
The Reverend Oliphant’s smile was cunning as he said, “And perhaps you can get your obstinate husband to come say a few words to the Lord.”
Anne didn’t even look at Aidan as she answered, “I may try.”
“I wish you success,” the Reverend Oliphant answered.
Aidan hated being discussed as if he wasn’t present. Still, that afternoon, he rode to Wick for hair pins.
Chapter 9
Anne spent the afternoon detailing to Cora what would be expected of her and seeing the young woman and her niece settled in the servants’ quarters, a wing of rooms off the great hall and close to the kitchen. If anyone was surprised at the Whiskey Girl’s change of status, they didn’t comment.
She