Page 2 of The Secret of Drulea Cottage
“You put Mr. Gully in Hannah’s bed?” Briony echoed, trying to keep the laugh out of her voice.
Fergus nodded, his lower lip quivering. “He looked cold, so I thought he would like her blanket and koad.”[6]
“And you thought Hannah would want a frog in her bed?”
“Why na? Mr. Gully’s na just any frog! He’s—” Fergus broke off when he spotted his mother approaching the doorway.
Briony took a stabilizing breath at the sight of her. As always, Penelope McGuff looked so put together that it was almost impossible to tell that she had just woken up: brown hair back in a smooth bun, dress not ruffled in the slightest—the very picture of a proper Orcadian wife. The only thing that contradicted her neat appearance was the sleep lingering in her eyes.
But Penelope’s haze of slumber departed the instant her eyes latched onto the young woman holding her son. “Briony, put him down this instant! And Fergus Matthew! You know yer supposed to be in yer room right now!”
Briony knew better than to argue and put him down as quickly as she could without injuring the boy. As for Fergus, he knew the safest place for him was far from his mother, so he did as he was told without even pausing to say farewell.
“Briony Fairborn, you better have a good reason fer coming here so late,” Penelope McGuff spat.
Briony scoffed. “O’ course I do! Do you think I would listen to yer venom otherwise?”
Penelope’s eyes flashed. “I ought to have you thrown out o’ town, you—”
“And lose the best midwife in all Orkney?”
Penelope was red-faced with anger. “Bah! The only reason yer still around is because yer mother saved my Hannah’s life. Got nothing to do withyerskills.”
Briony knew Mrs. McGuff was lying—Briony came from a line of the finest midwives Scotland had ever had. In all the decades the Fairborns had been in Everton, they had rarely lost a babe or mother. Mrs. McGuff would be a fool to get rid of Briony, no matter what her personal feelings were.
Rather than continue their never-ending argument, though, Briony switched subjects. “I thought yer husband would like to know that a ship just came into port.”
Penelope raised her thin eyebrows, deepening the wrinkles on her forehead. The woman was about ten years Briony’s senior, though she acted like the age difference was much greater. “A ship coming in now? That’s mighty peculiar. Aye, Donal must know about this. Have you told anyone else, lass?”
“Nay, you were the first.”
“Then don’ just stand around waiting fer some grand reward fer having eyes that work! Get to Adaira Stubbins and tell her so that the inn can be ready fer guests!”
As soon as she’d said that, Mistress McGuff stepped back and slammed the door in Briony’s face.
The young woman huffed and turned from the door.A wee bit o’ gratitude would have been nice.
Everton Inn was about half a mile from the McGuffs’ cottage, but Briony was used to the walk, so it wasn’t long before she reached her destination. A drizzle fell upon her as she did, darkening her blue dress until it was almost black.
Briony suspected Adaira was still awake, so she checked the kitchen and found her taking a fresh pie from the oven. Briony wasn’t surprised to find her there; though Adaira ran everything at the inn for her aging father, her favorite place was undoubtedly the kitchen. The whole village appreciated her dedication to baking, and no one could rival her delicious pastries.
“Hello, Adaira!”
Adaira jumped and almost dropped her latest masterpiece. She managed to catch her balance just in time and set the pie down to cool. She spun around to the cause of the trouble, her eyes softening at the sight of Briony.
“Briony, you gave me such a fright! What are you doing here at this time o’ night?” she asked as she sat down on a stool.
“I’m sorry to trouble you, but there are newcomers at the dock, and I thought I’d give you some time to prepare lodging fer them.”
Adaira frowned, bouncing up from her seat to grab towels from the linen closet. “Newcomers? How many?”
“I only saw the ship from my cottage, so I could na tell you,” Briony replied, following her friend out of the kitchen.
“There better na be very many. Otherwise, I won’ be able to accommodate them all.”
“Would you like some help?”
“Aye, please,” Adaira said as she handed Briony towels. “I may need quite a bit if there are a lot o’ newcomers. Especially if my current guests remain much longer. Mr. Burgess and his son, William, have been here fer twelve days, and they seem to like it so much that I would na be surprised if they decide to build themselves a house.”
