Chapter 6

Ian returned to the forge after being swept out of the room by Lucy. She was a curious creature. She claimed one thing, yet did not seem to be a maid at all. Surely, she would have known that mere water was no good to clean a floor? And it would have taken her a long time with that small rag. But if she wasn't a maid, then what was she? He shook his head as he set to work, using his hammer to work out his frustration. Strength flowed through his bulging biceps and careened down to the hammer, the impact of which then sent the feeling reverberating back up his arm. He lost himself in the clanging rhythm, which was meditative to him. To some people, it would have been a deafening cacophony, but he had been at it for so long it was the rhythm of his soul. The forge was hot, the metal hard, and time slipped by as he worked. This was all a man needed, he thought, just an honest trade and a hammer in his hands.

Except he had more than that, he had a dishonest trade. He swallowed hard, trying to ease his frustrations. Ever since he started his distillery, he had been afraid that someone unwanted would find their way in, and now it had happened. Somehow, Lucy had known from first glance what he was doing. Perhaps he should have made more of an effort to hide it, but he wasn't about to redesign it now, not after he had gone to such great lengths to adjust it precisely. It had taken a lot of trial and error to make it what it was today, but still… if anyone else should find their way into his basement, then his secret could be revealed, and his life might be in danger. For all his bluster, he hated the idea of the Laird finding out. He liked his home here, and did not want to have his shop taken away from him. The smart thing to do would be to stop selling the whiskey in the first place, but that was impossible.

It was later in the day when Rory returned. Ian had sent him out with a long list of chores, working him harder than usual as punishment for leaving the window open. Take pity on a cat and some thief of a woman came in, he rolled his eyes at the thought. Rory had a lot to learn about the world. You couldn't just welcome any stray in. As if he didn't have enough on his plate without getting tangled into Lucy's mess as well. He had managed to avoid the attention of the guards so far, but if anyone caught a glimpse of Lucy they would have a reason to snoop around his shop, and when they found her, they would find everything.

"Now, what dae ye hae tae say tae me?" Ian said when Rory returned. They locked up the shop together for another day.

"I'm sorry for leaving the window open. I dinnae know that anyone would come in. It was only for Ginger."

"Aye, but now ye hae brought trouble intae our shop, uninvited trouble," Ian said. He didn't want to be too hard on the lad, but sometimes the only way to learn was with harsh lessons. Rory sullenly headed towards the kitchen, ready for supper. Ian tugged at his arm beforehand and lowered his voice.

"Rory, listen tae me, I know ye think this lass can be trusted, but I'm nae sure. I've been watching her all day and I dinnae think she is a maid at all. She's clumsy, and I daresay the place is more of a mess now than it was when she started with it! Just be careful. If she's brave enough tae steal from Lady Boyd, then she's brave enough tae steal from us. Watch her hands," Ian said.

So far, he hadn't given her a chance to escape, but he was wary that she might try and flee with his gold. She knew he wasn't going to report the crime, as this would only have given him some unwanted attention. She was a sly one alright. He and Rory were going to have to remain focused to prevent her from slipping through their fingers.

When they entered the kitchen, they found Lucy surrounded by pans that were all steaming. The smell of burnt meat filled the air.

"Oh, lass, what hae ye done?" Ian cried out.

"Dae ye need help?" Rory asked.

"Nae!" Lucy cried out through the mist. "Just sit down and I'll bring yer supper over."

Ian was promptly served a plate of vegetables that were so soft they turned to mush when he touched them, meat that was burnt to a crisp, and gravy that was as thin as a shallow puddle. The potatoes were crispy as well, which was the only blessing because he liked crispy potatoes. Others preferred fluffy ones, but they weren't going to be found on this plate.

Lucy sank into her seat, serving herself last. "Eat up, enjoy," she said, gesturing for Rory and Ian to eat by circling her hands in the air. Ian and Rory glanced uneasily at each other, both poking around their plates to see if there was anything edible. Lucy tucked in, but as soon as she took her first bite, she tilted her head to the side, recognizing that something was a little off.

"Is everything alright, lass?" Ian asked.

Lucy forced herself to gulp her mouthful and then took a deep breath. She looked at her plate, as though dismayed that there was so much food left, but forced an expression of equanimity. "Everything is wonderful. This meal is delicious," she said, but her tone was flat and Ian thought he could detect a lie.

"It is very nice," Rory said, forcing himself to take a mouthful as well. He gave Ian a meaningful look and, despite the state of the meal, he had to admit that Lucy had paid her dues during the day. She looked exhausted and he didn't want to be on her back all the time, so he feigned enjoyment as well, shoveling the food in as quickly as possible so that he wouldn't have to endure the bland taste for too long.

"How long hae ye been a maid for?" Ian asked, fixing his gaze on Lucy. She bowed her head, unwilling to take her eyes off her plate.

"Since I was a lass. It's the only thing I hae ever known," she replied.

"Oh aye? And hae ye always worked in the keep, or hae ye worked elsewhere?"

"Oh, well, ye work in one kitchen and ye hae worked in them all," Lucy aimlessly waved her hand in the air, speaking in a breezy tone. Ian asked her a few more questions about her past, but her answers remained elusive, vague, like a spirit in the mist.

"Ye know, I hae been in this clan for a while now, and I hae even been tae the keep on occasion. I dinnae remember seeing ye there, though, and I tend tae notice new faces. How long hae ye been in the keep?"

"Oh, well, nae long really. I was actually fortunate tae get a job in the keep. I came tae nurse my sick aunt. She worked in the keep, and tae help her rest, I took up most of her duties. I hated tae see her in such a poor condition, and I wanted tae dae anything I could tae help her recover."

"Ye sound like a devoted niece, and yet ye used the opportunity tae steal?" Ian asked directly. Rory glared at him, evidently not thinking that this avenue of conversation was appropriate for the dinner table. Ian ignored him, though. He wanted to get the truth about Lucy, and he would hammer away at her like a piece of metal if it meant she would finally buckle and reveal the answers he sought.

Lucy straightened her posture and looked directly at him, commanding a sense of honesty. "Unfortunately, my aunt dinnae recover as well as I hoped. I needed tae afford a healer, but I could nae dae sae with my meager wealth. I was forced tae steal, which I thought was a fair bargain for her life. I intended tae repay my debt as soon as I was able tae, but when I was caught they dinnae want tae listen tae my explanation. They were gaeing tae throw me intae a cell, but I managed tae flee. I intend tae fetch help for my aunt as soon as possible. I can only hope that those in the keep hae taken pity on her. She is very sick, and I fear that she is only getting weaker."

"I'm sorry tae hear that, lass," Ian said, and his voice was filled with genuine concern. He gripped his fork tightly, thinking back to his own past, and how sickness came through the Highlands, ravaging people without mercy, sapping their strength and robbing them of their spirit. No amount of herbs or prayers could save them. He closed his eyes for a moment and he could feel a gentle caress upon his cheek, a soft whisper, a promise that this wasn't the end… except it had been. It had been and he hadn't been strong enough to stop it. His hammer hadn't been enough to stave off the sickness. He was half-tempted to let Lucy go there and then, if his own sense of self-preservation hadn't been so strong.

"The keep takes care of their own, lass. I'm sure they'll see that yer aunt is well," he said, hoping that it was true. He didn't think anyone should ever have to go through what he went through. The names Elspeth and Fiona loomed in his mind, as did their faces, although the older he got, the more of a struggle it was to hold on to the memories of them. They had been so bright and spirited, but the plague had taken it all away. His mother, Elspeth, so wise and kind. His sister, Fiona, stubborn and willful. He and his father, helpless as they tried everything they could to save them, but in the end it had all been futile, so now he hammered away at metal because he could not hammer the sorrow out of his heart.

He finished up the meal quickly and then carried his plate to the sink.

"Dinnae be tae long, Rory, we need tae get on with things," he said, and then hurried out of the room before either of his companions could see the tears welling in his eyes.

* * *

It shouldn't have surprisedIan that Lucy accompanied Rory down to the basement. Better to have her here than roaming about the shop, her hands ready to pilfer whatever she could find, he thought. He called Rory over, barking at him, while he gave Lucy a softer stare. Now that he knew something of her background, he was a little kinder to her, although he tried not to be too swayed by her sad story. He glared at her, indicating that she should stay out of their way. She duly obliged.

He and Rory got on with the distilling process, changing the pots, heating the water, making sure everything was changed at the right time. It was Rory's job to observe the temperature to ensure the water did not get too hot. Lucy watched them curiously, and kept piping up with questions. Ian scowled, but Rory was all too happy to answer. At least he had been paying attention, Ian thought, as he relayed all of the information that Ian had taught him. However, being distracted by Lucy meant that Rory's attention wasn't focused on his task. He had his head turned away from the temperature gauge when Lucy pointed it out, thus saving a batch from being ruined. Rory wore a shamed look, and Ian gave him a disappointed glare. He also had to begrudgingly thank Lucy.

She smiled and looked insufferable, but it seemed she had more of a fondness for this than she did cleaning. Soon enough, she was standing beside Rory, inspecting all of the equipment and taking part in the process, despite Ian's earlier objections. In all honesty, it was a struggle to cover everything with just him and Rory, so he was glad of the extra help. If it helped her forget about her troubles with her aunt as well, then so be it. This was only a temporary thing anyway, he thought. He wasn't about to let himself be charmed by her easy manner and the way her dainty hands deftly worked the gauges, her fingers running along the pipes of the still, her laughter filling the room, as though it was possible for this to be a happy place. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to look away from her. Nothing good could come from letting a thief into his life, or a woman, for that matter.