“Who?”
“Your—that’s none of your concern.” The hard glint in Morag’s eyes was enough to persuade me to pry no further. “Now, for your next task, I’ll need you to find me some agrimony. Eight or ten stalks should do. They have—”
“Little yellow flowers. I know.”
“Good.” Morag slowly rose from her seat. “I need a handful of pennyroyal, as well. And mind you, don’t eat any.”
“I’m not a goat.” I didn’t want to know why she needed the poisonous plant. “Shall I start looking for it now?”
Morag’s eyes widened. “In the rain? No, the herbs can wait for a drier day, and you shouldn’t touch them with such filthy hands.” She glanced pointedly at the ash under my fingernails from cleaning her hearth. “Go. Spend time with your guest.”
The idea of running down the hill to see if Fynn had woken was tempting. But my family needed as much money as I could bring them. “Please, ma’am. I’d be happy to find the herbs today, if you’re willing to pay extr—”
“I’m not a ma’am, I’m a Morag. And I was young once too, you know. I realize young people can’t work all the time.” She smiled, but on her, the expression was eerie and sad. “Of course,” she snapped in her usual gruff tone, “I was never as clumsy as you. I never lost anyone’s bucket.”
I pushed my chair away from the table, my shoulders and back throbbing from the work I’d done.
“Go home.” Morag shooed me toward the door, a wild gleam in her eye. “While there’s still daylight, else the woods might swallow you up and never spit you back out!”
I called a farewell, and she slammed the door shut in answer. At least there was a certain familiarity to the routine developing between us.
A mild breeze greeted me as I left the forest behind. The rain had stopped. And though I skipped down the hill, my thoughts remained with Morag. Until I began calling, she’d been alone in her dark house with only piles of old rubbish for companionship. And, despite her choice to live far removed from the rest of Port Coire, there were rare moments when she struck me as lonely. But did she truly stay out of town because of her leg?
The shadow that sometimes crossed her face made me wonder if she remained in that cottage because she had something to hide behind her gruff words and spooky manner.
As I crossed the market, Lugh caught my eye, beckoning me toward the fountain. “Bridey! Finally!” he called, a grin lighting up his face. “I was starting to think you’d followed Nessa to Peel!”
I slowed my pace but didn’t change course.
We’d hardly talked since our wonderful kiss. I’d had too much else occupying my time, but I wanted to try kissing him again soon. Maybe. Had the kiss really been wonderful? Surely if it had, it would have crossed my mind before now.
“There’s a rumor you were involved in a daring rescue at the beach yesterday …” Lugh flashed me another dazzling smile. “I’d never have believed it! Tell me the tale before Cat gets hold of it and embellishes it with ridiculous detail.”
I shook my head. “Not today.”
Lugh’s face fell slightly. “All right. But I’ve been thinking of you, Bridey.” He gave me a look I couldn’t quite read. “Haven’t you been—?”
“Of course. All the time,” I said, perhaps too quickly. Lugh frowned. “I really can’t talk now, but come find me tomorrow, if you’d like, and I’ll tell you all about the rescue.” I started to smile in apology but must’ve hesitated a moment too long.
Lugh had already looked away, striking up a conversation with the nearest passers-by: two pretty dark-haired girls around our age.
I lingered at the edge of the market, wanting to explain why I couldn’t join him, yet I couldn’t put it into words. Something was pulling me toward home, reeling me in like a fish on one of Da’s hooks.
CHAPTER SEVEN
After a day spent sorting herbs for Morag and hopelessly scouring the woods for traces of Eveleen and Nessa—Lugh never sought me out—I longed to sit by the hearth. But I hadn’t even hung up my cloak when Mally pulled me into the kitchen. “Watch that for me, will you?” She pointed to the glowing stove, where a heavy pot of water was boiling. “I’m cleaning bandages for Fynn.”
“Where’s everyone else?” The house was quiet, save for Fynn’s light snoring.
Mally lifted her dough-covered hands and shrugged. “Da’s at sea, of course. Mam took supper to the Gills—they’ve both come down with a chill—and the girls went with her.” She flashed her perfect smile. “It’ll be just the two of us tonight. Mam made kippers, but …” Grabbing the bowl, she tipped it to reveal the ball of dough within. “I thought biscuits would do a better job of taking our minds off recent events.” Her smile flickered.
Nessa Daley had been one of Mally’s many friends.