The House Of Gaian

easy to slip into the tea a pinch of the crushed plants she’d had in a handkerchief in her dress pocket. And Nuala was supposed to have spent the day sitting on her chamberpot. She wasn’t supposed to die . But...
    Jean stopped walking, put both hands in her dress pockets, and carefully pulled out two rounded handkerchiefs.
    Could she have gotten the handkerchiefs mixed up and put the foxglove mixture in Nuala’s tea?
    She stuffed the handkerchiefs back in her pockets and walked faster.
    That mixture had been for Breanna. Or Falco. Or both.
    Breanna was so stupid. She’d had sex with Falco. He’d even taken her up to Tir Alainn to do it to her, and all she’d gotten out of it was his cock making her wet and messy. No gold necklace. No rope of pearls. Not even a bracelet . Stupid Breanna.
    Well, she wasn’t stupid. And she was not going to go back and have Breanna and Fiona be mean to her.
    No, she was going to have everything . She’d find a baron’s son, a baron’s heir—a wealthy baron’s heir. And he’d see how pretty she was and know she was too special to do chores like some common woman. He’d hug her and kiss her, and whenever he wanted sex, he’d give her presents. Lots of wonderful presents. She’d have carriages and beautiful gowns and jewels. And then she’d go back to the Old Place, and Breanna would be so envious of all the things she had that mean, stupid Breanna would choke. She’d just choke.
    Jean stopped again and looked around. She’d already walked a long way, hadn’t she?
    Maybe they were already sorry they’d been mean to her. Back home, they’d felt sorry for her because she was the Abandoned Child, and after they’d scolded her for something, the old women would give her an extra sweet at dinner and sometimes one of the men would give her a scarf or a shawl that was supposed to be sold with the rest of the ship’s cargo.
    But the younger ones, like Fiona ... and Jenny ... had never been nice after they’d been mean. And Nuala had been the only elder at this Old Place, so there had been no one else to take her side and tell her she was a darling girl but it was naughty to cause such mischief.
    Just mischief. It wasn’t her fault if she’d gotten the mixtures confused. Breanna and Fiona were always watching her, just waiting for her to make a little mistake. And there wasn’t any privacy to work out the proper mixture that she half-remembered learning from her mother before her mother went away. It was their fault that she’d been in a hurry and hadn’t paid enough attention to which mixture she’d put in which pocket.
    Maybe she wouldn’t go to any of the camps just yet. She was tired and hot and getting all sweaty.
    Maybe she’d go to the village instead. Someone there would give her something to eat and a place to wash up and rest.
    And when her family realized they were sorry for being mean to her, she wouldn’t be that hard to find.
    So she walked until the dress she’d spent so much time pressing became limp and her legs quivered and burned and her shoes pinched her feet. She was close to tears when she reached the top of a rise and saw the field stretching out before her. A field with a jumbled pile of huge stones—and the road winding out of the trees beyond the field, curving around the rise she stood on.
    Dress, legs, and feet momentarily forgotten, she hurried down the other side of the rise and headed for the road. Someone would be coming from the village or heading to the village. Or one of the estates. Or a farm. Surely whoever was traveling would give her a ride.
    As I will, so mote it be , Jean thought smugly as a one-horse cart came out from behind that pile of stones. The young man driving the cart seemed startled when he saw her, but he turned the horse in her direction.
    “Blessings of the day to you,” Jean said when he finally got close enough, giving him her best smile—and wishing she could have smoothed her hair and dress before he’d seen her. No matter. He obviously wasn
    ’t gentry, so she didn’t have to impress him much. Just enough to get a ride.
    “Blessings of the day, mistress,” the young man said after a brief hesitation. “Are you alone?”

    A little wary, she watched him loop the reins around the brake and get out of the cart. “My family is nearby.”
    “These are dangerous times, mistress. A young lady shouldn’t wander about on her own.” When he got a man’s length away from her, he stopped suddenly.