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avoided worldly judgment. The old priest even winked at Kathleen when she joined Trevallion immediately after Mass and spoke to him amicably. Did he thereby make himself guilty of the sin of procurement?
    It amused Kathleen. She tried to maintain the light in her eyes, the smile on her lips, and the slight blush of her cheeks for Trevallion. For the first time, she allowed him to take her strolling all around the village without her parents by her side. She agreed with him in flattering terms as he described again and again how useful he was to his lord, how sure his station as steward was, and how respected the woman he took for his wife would be.
    Kathleen was exhausted from all the smiling and lying when Trevallion finally delivered her to her parents’ house. During the stroll she had experienced a strange sensation. It was almost as if she had not been alone with the steward, as if she were being watched. Had Michael sent Jonny to follow her?
    That might have been the case. It had been hard getting her beloved to accept her mission with Trevallion. And for her part, Kathleen worried about Michael. Billy Rafferty had been at Mass that morning. He kneeled, visibly tired, next to his mother, who seemed rather perturbed. Kathleen could understand. Particularly in times like these, it was considered disgraceful to get drunk. Michael had never come to church on Sunday mornings any the worse for wear. Of course, the tavern owner would give the musicians a beer or two, but whoever got drunk on whiskey did not keep his job long.
    Billy Rafferty did not seem to think that far ahead. Any form of strategy was foreign to him; Kathleen still thought him the worst choice for Michael’s successor in the whiskey business.
    But for Michael’s sake, Billy’s headache might not prove such a bad thing. The priest and the other villagers would assume that Michael, too, had been drinking the night before and thus had not come to Mass. Not until work on Monday morning would they finally note his absence.
    In front of the O’Donnells’ house, Trevallion handed Kathleen another sack of flour. “I know you won’t take it, Mary Kathleen,” he said formally. “You want to be sure no one will think you’re for sale. But I do wish you would someday feel enough for me that my gifts would appear meaningless compared to my kiss.”
    The steward approached her, but Kathleen stepped back, startled. She felt panic at the idea of Trevallion’s kiss—and not just because the thought of his lips on hers disgusted her. It was also because she was afraid of whoever might be following her. Little Jonny would not do anything dangerous. Nothing more could be expected from him than some stupid boyish prank, like a shot from his sling. He never hit anyway. But what if it was Brian who was following her?
    What if it was Michael himself?
    Kathleen lowered her eyes. “Mr. Trevallion,” she said quietly. “Please, please, sir, I’m only sixteen. That’s, that’s too young for love.” She blushed.
    Trevallion smiled. “Oh, of course. I forgot myself.”
    Kathleen did not know if he meant it with affection or scorn.
    “Then it’s surely only a rumor that you have feelings for that village boy?” It sounded threatening.
    Kathleen tried to lower her head even more demurely—and only then raised her eyes. She even managed a mischievous smile.
    “My feelings might tend elsewhere, sir,” she said. “But my mother instructed me to keep my eye on the pantry, too, when thinking of love.”
    Trevallion laughed resoundingly. “My, but you’re a charming maid, Mary Kathleen.”
    He reached into his bag and added a packet of sugar to the sack of flour. “Here. Though it can’t be sweeter than your lips.”
    Kathleen thanked heaven when she was finally able to flee into her family’s small house. She knew they would be waiting impatiently, and that they would be ecstatic over Trevallion’s wooing.
    Sugar and flour. Now Kathleen could bake scones