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turned to address the woman.
    "Well, Thelma, here 's your helper." Isabella bridled as he ran his eyes insolently over her from head to toe. "You'll have a hard job on your hands, I think. Not only is she a bag of bones, and lousy, she's got a tongue as sharp as one of your kitchen knives. To get her I convinced old Gregson I had certain favors due from the Governor, but I'm beginning to wonder if I should have bothered."
    He gave Isabella a look that made the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. Her lips quivered, but she 'd be damned if she'd let him see that his cruel words upset her.
    Instead she turned her attention to this Thelma. Isabella had presumed it was Carstairs' wife who wanted a new maid, but this woman looked old enough to be his mother. Surely she wasn 't married to him? Still, perhaps that was the way things were out here in the colony where women of the upper class were scarce. But this woman didn't have the bearing of the wife of a man of quality. 
    Looking hard at Isabella she gave Dougal a terse nod, saying, "Aye, an ' what about the young man? You didn't say you were after fetching two back with you."
    "The lad 's a freeman, Thelma; crewed his way over. Seems he's keen to work with the sheep. Isn't that right, Dougal?" He ushered Isabella through the gate.
    "Aye, that 's right," Dougal agreed, smiling.
    "Let 's get inside, then. You wait half a minute, Dougal, and I'll show you where to settle the gelding and yourself. This is Isabella, Thelma. Or is it Bella? You never told me which it was to be." He raised his brows.
    "My friends call me Bella," Isabella said, feeling confused again.
    "Well, I reckon I'll never be termed that, seeing as I'm an Englishman." He gave Thelma an odd look. "But as it's less of a mouthful, Bella it'll be. The lad's Dougal. The girl wanted him along. In fact insisted she would only give us the benefit of her company if her lover came with the package."
    Isabella glared at him. Why did he insist on calling Dougal that? The man was definitely intent on embarrassing her. Dougal gasped and her cheeks flamed anew.
    The arrogant so-and-so left her standing there with Thelma and went back through the gate, closing it after him, saying, "Come Dougal, I'll show you where to go, and you can wash up. And you’ll be needing some better clothes than what you have on. Where's Gillie, Thelma? This lad's a dab hand with sheep, so's I've been told. He'll be a help at lambing time with the ewes."
    "He 's moving some of the flock. Put one of those flea brained new men in charge of them it seems and he let them wander. He certainly will appreciate a man who knows his sheep. Come, girl, we'll get you some decent clothes too, and I expect you can't wait to bathe.pushing her gently towards the front door of the cottage.
    Isabella returned Dougal 's smile with a shaky one of her own as he drove the wagon away.
    Inside, the house wasn 't what Isabella had expected. The floor of the large kitchen, which ran the width of the house, was of unpolished boards, with mats of woven rushes scattered about. A rectangular table on sturdy carved legs, covered by an embroidered linen cloth set cornerwise, sat beneath two of the four windows overlooking the garden, with six rung-backed chairs tucked round its sides. Pretty curtains flapped in the hot breeze blowing through the windows. Two high-backed chairs with carved armrests flanked the fireplace, where a stove the likes of which Isabella had never seen sat alongside the grate. Commonplace and unmatched crockery lined the dresser filling the wall space between two doors at the back of the room.
    "I thought Mr. Carstairs was a nob," Isabella blurted, then bit her bottom lip.
    Thelma put a hand over her mouth, chuckling. "Bless me girl, what gave you that idea?"
    "I thought only the nobs were allowed to pick and choose their slaves. He said he had permission from the Governor's office to take who he liked."
    "Slaves? Goodness me, you 're not a slave."