Page 80 of Laird of Steel
“Davy took her another missive,” Ede told her, “and he said she burst into tears when she read it.”
Merraid frowned. “What are ye talkin’ about?”
“Lady Carenza,” Ede said, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t think she likes Sir Gellir. Not at all.”
“She should tell him,” Swannoc decided, “before ’tis too late.”
“What?” Merraid said, sitting back on her heels. “’Tis nonsense. O’ course she likes him.”
“Then why was she cryin’?” Ede asked.
“Maybe he told her he doesn’t love her,” Swannoc suggested.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Merraid scolded. “O’ course he loves her. Cryin’? They were likely tears o’ joy.”
Ede scoffed, then leaned close to Swannoc to confide, “I think she’s a Weepy Winifred.”
Swannoc shuddered. “There’s naught worse than a grown woman who bawls like a bairn.”
Ede clucked her tongue. “Sir Gellir isn’t goin’ to like that.”
Swannoc nodded in agreement. “Men hate lasses who sob all day.”
“He doesn’t hate her,” Merraid insisted. “Hechoseher.”
Ede shrugged. “That was before he found out she was a Weepy Winifred.”
Merraid thinned her lips. “Just because her eyes welled a bit…”
“‘Burst into tears,’ Davy said.” Ede crossed her arms authoritatively.
“Once…”
Ede held up two fingers. “Twice.”
“That doesn’t mean she hates him.” Ede rolled her eyes, and Merraid scowled back at her. “She’s probably just afraid.”
Swannoc arched a brow. “Men doubly hate cowardly lasses.”
“’Tis true,” Ede agreed.
“They should break off the betrothal now,” Swannoc said.
“What?” Merraid stabbed her spade into the ground. “Ye don’t even know what ye’re talkin’ about. Ye two should mind your own affairs and keep your noses out of it.”
“We just want what’s best for Sir Gellir,” Swannoc explained. “He needs a bride who’s strong.”
“And brave,” Ede said.
“One who can take care of a keep while he’s off fightin’.”
“Not a Weepy Wi-”
“Enough!” Merraid snapped. “Sir Gellir’s made his choice. ’Tis up to all of us to see this weddin’ through.”
Swannoc and Ede exchanged disappointed glances.
“The clouds are gatherin’,” she said, “so let’s get the peas in ere the rain starts. And I’ll hear no more gossip about who hates who.”
