"Aye. Aye, I do. But you're your father's daughter. You'll follow your will, whatever the world or common sense say to ye."
Her anger might have subsided, bu
t her feelings still smarted. "Flossie, I thought we were friends."
The girl reached forward and gave her a fervent hug. "Aye, of course we are."
Mhairi remained stiff in her embrace. "Ye dinnae sound as if you like me verra much."
Flossie looked stricken as she pulled away. "Och, Lady Mhairi, of course I like ye. We've been together for years. I love ye like a sister."
"But?"
Flossie went on, as carefully as if she picked her way barefoot across a stony plain. "Ye think your father is always right, and he's no’. He wasnae right to spoil ye as he has. He's made ye think you're as free as a man, yet at some time in her life, every woman has to bow her head and swear to obey the man she marries. The Drummond has given ye wrongheaded ideas about the part you play in the world, lassie. Nor has being the Rose of Bruard helped to bring ye down a few pegs."
Mhairi felt attacked from a quarter she'd never expected. "I'm sorry if I was unkind to ye, Flossie."
Flossie shook her head and in other circumstances, Mhairi might have seen the smile as fond. Flossie's loyalty and affection had been mainstays of her life. Now it appeared both were illusion.
"Och, ye rattle-pated lassie, you were never unkind. Your heart is pure gold. After all the praise and petting you've had, that’s a credit to ye. You're no’ vain, you're generous-natured, you're good through and through. You've picked up a few muddled ideas, that's all. You're smart enough to learn, shown the right path."
Mhairi wasn't altogether mollified. "And marrying the Mackinnon's the right path?"
Flossie spread her hands. "Duff speaks so highly of him, he sounds like a prince."
Mhairi’s lips tightened in displeasure. "Well, if Duff says so, it must be right."
Flossie flushed again. "He's a good man. You’d ken that if ye talked to him."
"Well, that's no’ likely, is it?" She felt sour and ill-used. "With me locked up in the tower and kept well away from everyone."
"If ye wed the Mackinnon, he'd leave ye free to walk around Achnasheen."
"That's too high a price to pay," she said bitterly. "What gives him the right to say where I go?"
Flossie's pitying stare cut her to the bone. "Why, the way of the world, my lady. You’ll fight it, but in the end you'll submit to a woman's place."
Mhairi wanted to argue, but what was the point? Flossie wouldn't listen. This Duff must have charms indeed to turn the girl's head so swiftly. "So ye willnae come with me when I escape? You're throwing your lot in with strangers, Flossie. Life at Achnasheen may no’ be all ye hope for."
"I'll take my chances." A mulish expression settled on the girl's face. "Anyway, I'm no’ a prisoner. The Mackinnon says I can go back to Bruard with John Drummond if I wish. I told him I was happy to stay here, if he was happy to have me."
No wonder her jailer had allowed Flossie to see her. It hadn't been a sudden generous impulse. He'd hoped the girl would reconcile Mhairi to the idea of remaining at Achnasheen. "Did Black Callum ask ye to speak in favor of the match?"
Flossie shook her head. "No."
He probably knew he didn't have to ask. With Flossie such an enthusiast for the pleasures of life at Achnasheen, a smart man must guess that she’d agitate on his behalf.
When Black Callum had let her see her maid, she'd been grateful. She wasn't grateful anymore. This privilege was just another of his endless attempts to convince her to wed him.
Flossie frowned. "I just put your back up."
She shook her head, although it was true. "I'm so glad you're unharmed. I've been worried sick about ye, especially when the Mackinnon wouldnae let me see you."
"I had a few rough words for Duff on the way here."
"I'm sure." But it was clear that she'd soon stopped hissing and spitting like an angry cat.
Mhairi could only be grateful the girl had suffered no mistreatment at Mackinnon hands. Seeing Flossie unmolested, unhurt, and well was a relief.