Page 5 of Saved By the Cruel Highlander
She lifted her chin. “I would like to order somethin’ to eat.”
The blonde woman nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. Our special today is boiled boar, but we also have mutton. Which would ye prefer?”
Holly grimaced at the thought of boiled boar. Roast boar was tasty, but when it was boiled, it just lost all its flavor.
“Mutton, please. And a hot cup of tea if ye have it.”
The woman nodded with a smile. “Me name is Alice, by the way.”
“I am Holly?—”
“Aye, I ken who ye are,” Alice interrupted. Her easy smile dropped, and a look of sadness clouded her blue eyes. Without being asked, she pulled out the chair across from Holly and sat down. “Me full name is Alice Mitchell.”
She paused and watched Holly knowingly as she slowly stiffened.
“Aye,thatAlice Mitchell. Me faither was Peter Mitchell, the man who… well, who wronged ye so long ago.”
“Kidnapped, ye mean.” Holly grimaced.
She hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh, but she’d spent the last nine years of her life trying not to remember that horrible day.
Alice didn’t seem to take offense at Holly’s tone and nodded sadly. “I ken this must be a shock, and I’m sorry. I recognized ye right away when ye walked in here. I looked for ye for a couple of years. I wanted to apologize. I ken I was still young meself when me faither decided to take ye and sell ye to… well, when he did what he did. But somehow I still felt responsible for simply bein’ related to him. So when ye walked in today, I thought God had answered me prayers, givin’ me a chance to tell ye how truly sorry I am for what happened to ye.”
Holly was speechless. What could she say?
Alice wasn’t responsible for what her father had done. But Holly didn’t want any reminders of that time, either.
Holly nodded. “Thank ye, but ‘tis nae necessary.”
“Ye are too kind,” Alice said with a slight smile. “Well, I will go fetch yer food. Thank ye for listenin’ to me.”
Holly watched Alice walk away, a slight frown pulling at her mouth. She didn’t remember Alice from that time, but then she’d never met her, either. But she heard that Peter Mitchell had a daughter about her age. How horrible it must have been for Alice to find out that her father was kidnapping young girls and selling them to brothels.
How horrible it was that their fathers had killed each other. The two women had little to do with what had happened back then, even though Holly was the one caught up in the middle of it. Peter Mitchell deserved what he got, but none of it was Alice’s fault.
Holly shook her head a little too vigorously in an effort to clear it of those troubling memories. She looked around the tavern, taking in all the sights, since she’d never been inside one before.
It was dark and a little musty, smelling of stale spirits and roast meat. There was also a smell of unwashed bodies that made her nose twitch in distaste. It wasn’t very busy at this hour, thankfully, but there were still several patrons. Most were men, drinking their Scottish whisky and harassing the maids.
There was one table, though, that caught Holly’s attention. Three women sat together, laughing and talking.
Gossiping, Holly figured.
They looked like commoners, with their clean but drab gowns ranging in color from brown to dark brown. None of them seemed the least bit self-conscious or wary, and for a minute,Holly wished she had that kind of confidence. But then one of them caught her attention, and she leaned forward slightly to hear better.
“… the Beastly Laird.”
The Beastly Laird?
Holly frowned.
“Ye call yer Laird that?” one of the ladies asked, her brown eyes wide with surprise.
The redhead who had made the statement nodded. “Everyone does. Nae to his face, of course, but he was given the nickname because of his beastly personality.”
“And he’s lookin’ for a wife, ye say?” the brown-eyed woman asked. “Would anyone marry a man, even a laird, with that kind of name?”
“Laird McAllister is a fine catch. A lass could do much worse,” the redhead argued. “If she can ignore the scar on his left eye, that is.”
