To Marry A Scottish Laird Read Online Free Page B

didn’t hide his surprise at this news and Joan supposed she shouldn’t be insulted by his surprise. It was rare for someone outside of nobility to know how to read or write.
    “Aye, she was taught by one of the nuns in an abbey she worked at before I was born.”
    “Did she teach you?” he asked curiously.
    Joan merely nodded.
    “ ’Tis a valuable skill, boy,” Cam said solemnly. “Between that and yer healing abilities ye shouldn’t ha’e any problem finding a position once yer task is done.”
    Joan didn’t comment. What he said might be true were she a male as he thought her to be. But she wasn’t and that would make things more difficult. Her mother had only done as well as she had because she’d earned the favor of the abbess who ran the abbey in the village where she’d grown up. Joan had thought she had the affection and favor of both the abbess at Wellow Abbey and the Friar at the Augustinian friary, but both had gently but firmly refused her when she’d approached them.
    “Mayhap this message yer mother left is a request fer a position fer ye,” Cam said thoughtfully. “She may no’ ha’e been Scottish, but that does no’ mean she does no’ have Scottish acquaintances. Mayhap she saved this Scot’s life and is hoping their gratitude will move them to offer ye a position.”
    Joan frowned at the suggestion, but shook her head. “I don’t think so. She never spoke of anything like that, or even the name. In fact, I’ve never heard it before.”
    “What name?”
    “Mac—” Joan cut herself off abruptly and scowled at him. He’d nearly tricked her into naming the recipient of the message.
    “Why do ye no’ wish to tell me their name?” Cam asked.
    Joan’s eyebrows rose, not at the question, but at his expression as he asked. He looked almost suspicious. She understood why when he asked, “Are they enemies o’ my clan?”
    “I don’t know who the Sinclairs count as enemies,” she said truthfully, and then admitted, “But if ’twas an enemy, would you try to stop me from delivering it?”
    “Nay, o’ course no’,” he assured her, and then grinned and admitted, “But I wouldn’t help get ye there either.”
    Despite herself, Joan found herself smiling at his words, and then wincing as her split lip complained.
    “Come now, tell me who the message is for,” Cam coaxed. “The Sinclairs do no’ ha’e many enemies. ’Tis more likely a friend and then I can repay yer kindness in saving me life and escort ye there . . . or at least part o’ the way if they’re too far out o’ me way.”
    Joan peered at him silently. She was too proud to ask for help, but not so proud she wouldn’t accept help were it offered. It would certainly make her journey less dangerous were she not alone. She debated briefly and then blew out her breath and just said it. “Laird and Lady MacKay.”
    Cam’s lips split in a wide grin, and he reached out to thump her in the arm. “Ye’re in luck, lad. The MacKays are friends to the Sinclairs. Good friends.” He shook his head and then added, “Even better, they’re our neighbors, so I can see ye all the way there on me way home.”
    Joan righted herself slowly. His friendly thump in the arm had nearly knocked her off the log. Managing a small smile that didn’t pull too much at her healing lip, she nodded. “Thank you.”
    They ate in silence for a minute, and then Cam asked, “So no family ’sides yer mother?”
    Joan shook her head and swallowed the meat she’d just taken a bite of. “Me father died ere I was born, me grandparents too, and I had no brothers or sisters.” She glanced to him curiously. “You?”
    “Both parents still alive, two brothers, one sister, and more aunts, uncles and cousins than you can shake a stick at,” he said around the onion he’d just bitten into. He grimaced then and added, “I’ve family coming out me ears. More than anyone wants or needs.”
    Joan raised her eyebrows at that. She would have