The Glassblower by Laurie Alice Eakes Read Free Book Online Page B

produce, she could learn what lay in his heart.
    The idea returned a song to her lips. Before any notes spilled out, however, Sarah’s warning cut through her joy. He was one of her father’s workers. Father might not—probably wouldn’t—approve of her befriending Colin Grassick. And she was supposed to marry another man.
    “I don’t see the harm in being friendly, kitten.” Meg’s spirit rebelled. “Father sent him here to get my approval for the goblets.”
    Her actions thus justified, she tucked the kitten into the basket and returned to the kitchen with her now meowing burden.
    “She isn’t happy about being confined.” Meg set the basket on the floor beside Colin’s chair. “Perhaps she’s lonely.” He lifted the lid and poked a finger inside.
    The mews ceased.
    “Ach, she’s a funny one.” Ilse chuckled. “Would you like me to finish with the bread rolls, Miss Meg? They’re ready for the oven.”
    “So they are.” Meg glanced at the buns rising near the stove. “I forgot about them. If you stay a few minutes, Mr. Grassick, I’ll send a few home with you.”
    “Nay, I have enough to carry with the wee beastie and the glass.” He lifted his teacup. The delicate china looked like a toy in his hand, yet he held it with care. “But I thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
    “Leave the glass here.” Meg slid the trays of rolls into the baking oven. “Unless you need them for matching the others.”
    “Nay, I have my drawings. And perhaps these would be safer here.”
    “Ya, I can tuck them on the top shelf of the pantry.” Ilse snatched up the crate of glasses and carried it into the storage room off the kitchen.
    Meg drew out a chair and joined Colin at the table. “I didn’t notice you at church on Sunday.” She tilted her head to one side. “Dare I ask if you go?”
    “Aye, I go.” He gave her a half smile. “I saw you in the front row. I was in the back.”
    She was in the family’s private box pew with Father and Joseph, perched on cushions to keep them comfortable in the event the sermon lasted a long time. Colin had just reminded her that he had perched on a narrow bench with the other workers, uncomfortable with the shortest of talks.
    It wasn’t right. The Jordan pew was half empty most of the time.
    “Did you enjoy the service anyway?” she ventured.
    “He is a fine preacher.” Colin set down his cup and pushed it a little away from him. “I missed worshipping at the kirk while aboard ship.”
    “Have you always gone to church?” Meg grasped the edge of the table. “That’s what a kirk is, isn’t it, a church?”
    “Aye, that it is.” He rose. “I went with my family every Sunday until I ran away from home when I was twelve.”
    Meg stared at him. “You ran away from home?”
    “I did.” He inclined his head, sending a wave of sunset red hair sliding across his brow.
    “Why? I mean—” Meg’s face heated. “Never you mind. It’s none of my concern.”
    “I think it is.” His voice held a roughness she hadn’t noticed before now. “You and your father deserve to know the character of the man you employ. I ran off because I wanted to be a Lowland glassmaker instead of a Highland fisherman like my father. The next time I attended the kirk was two years ago when I went to the funeral of my father.”
    Raw pain clouded his brilliant eyes.
    “I’m so sorry.” Despite knowing how useless the words were, Meg didn’t know what else to say.
    She rose and looked into the oven to see if the rolls were browning too quickly or remaining too doughy. She kept her back to him, waiting for him to compose himself, have a moment to say whatever he chose. She wanted to know how his father died, but she had already probed for more than was appropriate.
    “He drowned somewhere near the Hebrides.” Colin’s voice was soft once again, calm, as though he had spoken these words many times. “The water was rough, and he shouldn’t have gone out alone, but his wife