Page 6 of A Promise Through Time

“Nae. I willnae,” she said with certainty.

Damn it all.“Mayhap tomorrow night then?” he hoped.

“I’m nae sure. I’ll tell ye tomorrow…if I’m back.” She seemed in a hurry to escape him. Maybe he should try a different tactic.

“What’s wrong at home, lass? It must be something quite terrible if yer nae sure of yer return.” There, he could be sensitive when it was called for.

“Ma’s having her baby. I must go.” She disconnected herself from his hands and ran across the courtyard. He watched as she headed off through the castle gates and out of sight.

Entering the kitchen, all hope of celebrating his victories dashed, Mary pushed a bowl of stew in front of him. “There ye go, lad.”

“Thank ye, Mary.”

“Ye look in quite the state,” she noted.

“Aye. This day is not turning out the way I had hoped. The lass…she has to go see about her ma,” he said.

“Oh, ye mean Bethia.”

“Is that her name? Bethia,” he repeated as if it were a foreign word. “Are ye sure? It doesnae ring a bell.”

“Well, it should.” She scowled at him much like Helene had. “Ye’ve been sniffing at her skirts for a week now. Shame on ye fer nae remembering.”

Mary made him feel guilty in a way no one else could. She reminded him of his grannie. She was sweet and kind, but dinnae cross her or anyone she cared about.

“I’m sorry, Mary. Yer right. I should hae remembered.”

“So, yer night’s been ruined by the inconsiderate way her ma decided to have her bairn this day,” Mary said. Her obvious mocking tone lost on him.

“Aye.”

Mary cuffed him on the back of the head. “Ye daft oaf. What is wrong with ye?”

“I dinnae think there was anything wrong with me until today,” he answered, rubbing the back of his head. The only person who understood him was Hamish and he wasn’t here anymore. He’d succumbed to the lure of a woman and run off with her. He never even said goodbye.

Donal ate his stew, but didn’t really enjoy it the way he usually did. Maybe it was the way Mary tsk-tsked at him as she worked.

“Oh, hello, Donal,” Sophia said, entering the kitchen. “Mary, Bethia told me about her Ma and I thought ye could use some help.”

“’Tis yer day off, lass.” Mary wiped her brow with her apron. The warmth of the kitchen could be overwhelming at times. How Mary did it day in and day out he didn’t know.

“I know, but I wasn’t busy, so I’m here if you need me,” Sophia said.

“I do, thank ye, lass” Mary said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Latharn told me ye bested him today on the field,” Sophia said, directing her comment to Donal as she wiped down the table he sat at.

“And I was feeling pretty good about it until now,” he answered, glancing at Mary who narrowed her eyes at him.

“You should be proud. He’s a tough one.” She lifted his bowl and wiped under it. “He wasn’t happy about it, but he said he was impressed with your skill.”

“Finally, someone has something nice to say about me.” His narrowed eyes were directed at Mary’s back.

Sophia laughed. “Is someone feeling sorry for themselves?”

Sophia was one of the lasses that had come from the future and decided to make Breaghacraig their home. They had an odd way of speaking, forcing him to ask on more than one occasion just what it was they were talking about. In this case, he understood exactly what she was getting at. He didn’t agree. He was merely baffled by the lack of respect he’d been shown by everyone he’d come across since his resounding victory on the field this morning.

***