Chill by Alex Nye Read Free Book Online Page B

I make as if not to draw attention to myself and pretend ignorance as necesserie. Tis better this way.
    Father is … well, Father is Father.
    I respect him, but I keepe my distance.
    I’m learning to blend in to my surroundings. If I spend an hour a day with my head bent over my embroidry silks, then no one notices if I slip off into the woodes later with none to accompanie me.
    We have a privat world up ther, beyond the boating pond. The adults see naught of how I excel at shooting and riding, or how I canst beat the boys at their own games. I can yell and holler as much as I like up ther, fire off arrows that hit the mark a thousand times.
    I’m free when I’m up on the muir. As wild as my brothers. As long as Father sees naught.
    The twenty-first day of April 1708
    I want to write today about this new thing that has happend.
    A boy from the Lynns Farm has begun to come up to Dunadd to help with the horses. He’s about my age, but his mother has decided he’s old enough to be employed as a stable boy, when he is not helping out on their farm.
    Lynns Farm lies hidden amongst the trees in a hollow of the muir, not far from the waterfall.
    As soon as I saw him I knew we could be friends. But he would not respond at first. If anything he seemed angry with me for even trying. I said I should like to help him with the grooming, but he looked at me and laughed.
    â€œYou?” he said, as if the idea amused him.
    â€œWhy not?”
    He looked awkward at that.
    â€œIt’s not really a task for ladies, if you see what I mean.”
    â€œWho says I am a lady?”
    He laughed again, and shrugged.
    Then he turned his back on me, and carried on with what he was doing. He was trying to ignore me, I culd tell. But I would not allow that.
    â€œI can ride any horse in this stable,” I told him. “Bareback,” I added.
    He nodded and said nothing. Unimpressd.
    The boy lives with his mother and brothers on the farm as our tenants. They rent the land from my father. Perhaps that explains his awkward behaviour towards me, but I am much offended that he should put up such barriers, walls to stop us communicating.
    â€œWhy is it called the Lynns Farm?” I asked him then.
    He looked at me. “It’s from the Gaelic, Lin meaning waterfall? I wouldn’t expect thee to know that, of course,” he added.
    â€œShall thee come up every day?” I asked him.
    He shrugged. “Can’t say.”
    I’ll look out for him, though.
    It’s lonely up at Dunadd. Douglas and James are not guid companie. They can turn vile if they’ve a mind to.
    I forgot to ask the stable-boy his name.
    The twenty-third day of April 1708
    I found out his name today. It is Patrick. And his familie name is MacFarlane. It suits him, I think, and I told him so.
    I also told him about the voices I sometimes hear. He looked at me oddly.
    â€œThee wants to be careful, miss,” he murmured. “Thee dost not want to be taken for a witch.”
    I laughed. “That’s what my brothers think.” My eyes lit up. “It terrifies them. It’s a guid way of keeping them in their place. ‘I’ll put a spell on you,’ I tell them,” and I lift my arms to demonstrate to Patrick the trick I play on them. I can put the fear of God into my brothers with that little ploy.
    But Patrick did not seem amused. He carried on with his work. It does not seem as if he likes my brothers much. Who can blame him? He also can not understand why I should want to be friends with him.
    â€œWhy dost thee come here?” he asked me.
    â€œI live here,” I retorted.
    â€œNo,” he said. “I mean, why here?” He motioned his hand to the stable itself.
    I shrugged.
    â€œCompany!”
    â€œWhy wouldst thou seek my company?”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBut we’re different, thee and I,” he pointed out. “Our families are different. You can