The Making of a Highlander by Elisa Braden

Author:Elisa Braden [Braden, Elisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Scottish Historical Romance
Publisher: Verity Jane Publishing, LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

TlU

Annie squelched the urge to snap at her new lady’s maid. For the love of God, what had she been thinking? Mad Annie Tulloch shouldn’t have a lady’s maid. She might as well tie pink ribbons to the horns of a hairy cow. Ridiculous. But Mrs. Baird had assured her she would need one, so Annie had employed the only female in the village more scorned—and, thus, more desperate—than she was.

Dougal MacDonnell’s freckle-faced, brown-haired wife might be a shy mouse who rarely raised her eyes above anyone’s navel, and yes, she was a former prostitute from Glasgow. But like the rest of Dougal’s family, she needed employment. Besides, her gowns were always plain but clean, and her hair was always neatly trimmed, so she knew more about such things than Annie.

Now, however, Annie stood before the three gowns laid out on her bed, reminding herself that she could not shout at Betty MacDonnell because Betty hadn’t done anything wrong. She hadn’t spoken more than two words, in fact. Granted, those two words had been, “Aye, miss,” whispered to the floor. But shouting at her would be like kicking a kitten.

Annie gritted her teeth. “What do ye think of the lavender one, Betty?”

No answer.

She chanced a glance at the maid, whose eyes widened and darted away.

It was the final straw. “Ye’ve seen me in the altogether every day for the last seven,” Annie snapped. “Nobody here is any better than anybody else. Stop actin’ like ye’re embarrassed to be breathin’.”

The other woman flinched and cowered.

Bloody hell. With an effort, Annie softened her tone. “All I mean is that ye needn’t be nervous to speak yer mind. I hired ye because ye’ve a bit of talent for”—she gestured to the gowns then swirled a hand around her own head—“this sort of thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Betty whispered.

“Dinnae apologize, for the love of …” Annie bit down on the remainder then patted the woman’s spindly shoulder. “Let’s try the lavender one, eh?”

Betty nodded. Then hesitated. Then moved to the grass-green walking dress. “Th-this one is a bonnie shade fer spring.”

Despite her own melancholy, Annie gave Betty an encouraging nod. “Right ye are. A much better choice.”

Betty smiled then helped her dress. A short time later, while Annie’s new maid removed wee wraps from the curls along Annie’s temples, one of her lads ran into the bedchamber to deliver a note from Angus.

As she read his blunt, blockish scrawl, Annie’s stomach tightened and swooped and panged. Then, her chest expanded until she felt it might burst. She covered her lips with trembling fingers. Could it be?

Betty whispered, “Is the news dreadful, then?”

Annie shook her head in wonderment, struggling to contain herself. “No,” she choked. “Ah, God bless us all. The charges against Broderick will be dismissed. The Lord Commissioner has accepted the exciseman’s original statement, and Broderick’s sure to be released.” Without thinking, she stood and embraced Betty, who gave a startled jerk at the gesture.

“Och, I’m a pure disaster.” Annie drew back, sniffing and swiping at damp cheeks.

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