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Chapter

“Fergus, if you drop another mug of ale I’ll do more than box your ears, lad.”

Maisie used the voice her staff feared, not to scare the boy, but to avoid him being backhanded by one of the few men she actually was afraid of.

If Fergus dropped even a bit of ale on Duncan MacBrannigan, the chieftain would likely give her poor new servant his first bruise.

In turn, Maisie would be forced to expel the man from her inn, and though she’d done it twice before, she had no wish to do it again.

It was those two incidents that had made MacBrannigan her fiercest adversary.

“Aye, my lady,” Fergus said, carrying an ale in each hand toward the table in the window.

If it were any other man likely to cause trouble, she’d serve him herself. But if Maisie could avoid MacBrannigan, she’d do it. The man’s threat still lingered in her ears.

“When I return, and I will return, you will regret this decision,” he’d said.

Knowing she could not turn a man his size away on her own, Maisie had enlisted the aid of a trio of men likely to take her side, enemies to Clan MacBrannigan who would have relished any reason to challenge the fiefdom chieftain.

He was a man known for his cruelty and disregard for others, especially women.

It was that last fact that raised Maisie’s ire most.

“A new dress, is it?” a customer said to Maisie as she passed his table. The man lived only a short distance from the inn and certainly did not need to rent a room. But instead of frequenting his town’s tavern, instead he came here more often than she’d like.

Each and every time, she turned down his advances.

A blacksmith by trade, he was skilled with a sword, and Maisie needed sword arms as much as she needed the Red Stag to continue to earn coin.

He was also regarded by the other girls as handsome, though Maisie thought he was only passing fair.

Either way, she had little interest in a dalliance or, worse, a marriage.

She’d done the latter once and would not recommend it to any woman.

“Aye,” Maisie said reluctantly. “Another venison pie?” she asked, smoothing out her kirtle, one she already regretted.

Normally she wore one as nondescript as possible, but she’d acquired the new fabric when a merchant had traded it for a room.

Too beautiful to waste, the deep green in stark contrast to her light brown hair, the gown had immediately become her new favorite even as Maisie knew it would draw too much attention.

“If yer getting it for me.”

Sighing, she moved away, slapping the man’s hand as he reached for her hip.

The sound resonated too far. Looking up, dismayed to see others looking at them, Maisie hurried away with MacBrannigan’s eyes on her back.

She’d seen him looking at them. He had likely been watching the entire time. Just waiting to take his revenge.

Walking straight to a table of the most unlikely defenders, a group of three English knights, Maisie did not hide her purpose.

“Sir Reynard?” she asked the same man who had pleaded for her hand in marriage many times. “Will you take up your sword if it becomes necessary?”

Sir Reynard’s sister had married a highlander, and he’d come through here often in the last year since her husband died. Each time he said the same thing. “’Tis not safe for you, running this inn alone. Let me aid you, Lady Maisie.”

She reminded him gently each time that she never planned to marry again.

And still, he continued to press his suit, though in a very different way than most men.

He did not leer but simply asked her each and every time, reminding her that while he frequented her inn, Sir Reynard’s sword arm was hers.

Thankfully, he traveled with two others today as MacBrannigan did the same.

“You need not ask, my lady.”

“Many thanks,” she said. “I shall fetch more ale for all three of you.”

His kindly smile was most welcome, and left Maisie fearing the gesture was the best thing that would come out of this day.

Two years as an innkeeper—one alongside her wretched husband, courtesy of Maisie’s father, who had been all too eager to accept her late husband’s coin—and she simply knew.

Today would be one of those days. The kind where she questioned her judgment at running the Red Stag alone.

Of course I can. And have. Will continue to, as well.

But for now, Maisie simply had to get through the day unscathed.