Highland Promise by Mary McCall Page A

you anything, lass?" Noreen asked, placing the back of her hand to Faith's brow.
            "Nay, Noreen." Faith averted her face from the shrewd woman's scrutiny. "I am not used to so much lying about and just feel a mite jittery."
            The furrows deepened in the maid's brow. "You need to eat. I cannot like that you have taken naught but a wee bit of broth in two days."
            Faith had no answer. She didn't feel ill, but couldn't explain her lack of appetite. Unless her intense desire for Brendan had stolen it. What was wrong with her! She barely knew the man, and she was going to be a nun, for heaven's sake. Why she had to keep reminding herself, she didn't know.
            After answering a knock, Noreen closed the door and returned to her mistress. "'Tis the king's page. If you are still too ill to join the court, His Grace has ordered that his royal physician tend you. I'm thinking 'tis a good thing too. I'm that worried about you, lass."
            "Rats!" Faith tossed aside the covers and sat up on the side of the bed.
            "Here now. What are you about?" Noreen placed a restraining hand on Faith's shoulder.
            "What does it look like I am about?" Faith shook off the hand, then stood and stretched. "I am getting out of bed so I can dress for an evening of being plagued by spiteful mothers and Highlanders."
            "Have you been feigning your illness?" Noreen demanded.
            "Not entirely." Faith raked her fingers through her hair as contrition flamed her cheeks. "My curse did start yesterday. I was uncomfortable."
            The maid scowled. "Why would you do such a thing?"
            "I do not have time for this discussion if I am to dress and go to court." Faith waved a hand, dismissing the subject. She grabbed a pear from a tray Noreen had brought in earlier and took a bite. She spoke while she chewed. "I shall wear the black. It will add to my pallor so no one will question my absence."
            "Except for your disguise, you have never been given to deception, and I do not like it." Noreen walked to Faith's chest and pulled out the black kirtle, a tan undershift, and layers of padding.
            "It was necessary, and I shall say no more on the matter." Faith took another bite and set aside the pear. She snatched the padding from Noreen and tied the layers in place.
            "Harrumph!" Noreen snapped her mouth shut. Her jerky movements proclaimed her ire as she helped Faith don her disguise.
            "Is it The Sutherland you're avoiding, lass?" Noreen asked as she pulled the flour-dusted drape from Faith's chest and brushed a few errant white specs from the black gown.
            "I avoid no one." Faith stood and smoothed the folds of her kirtle. "But now that you bring him up, I have decided not to accompany him to Scotland. I am going to the priory near Salisbury instead. I shall find an Englishman to escort me."
            "Sounds like you are avoiding him to me," Noreen retorted. "And your planning will land you in trouble. Always does."
            "I did not ask for your opinion." Faith walked toward the door.
            "Well you got it." Noreen grabbed a shawl and dogged Faith's heels. "And I'll be telling you one more thing. You—"
            "You may stay here tonight, Noreen. I shall not require you for chaperone in that overcrowded hall."
            Snatching the shawl from the maid, Faith stepped into the corridor and slammed the door. A figure moved in the shadows, and she tensed. "Edrik?"
            "Nay." Michael stepped into view. "That ferret-faced weasel took his leave yester morn when he heard you were ill."
            "Why are you here?"
            "The laird ordered you guarded and 'tis my watch." Michael cocked his head and peered at her. "You still look puggled."
            Faith frowned. "What does