Her thoughts were interrupted when a man came up beside her and touched her elbow. “Are you all right? You were kind to make sure that woman didn’t hurt herself.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she replied. “Growing up with three brothers teaches a little sister to always be ready for mischief.”
He grinned. “Do I detect a brogue? You wouldn’t be Irish, now, would you?” Maggie flashed a quick grin back and then, appearing as indignant as she could manage, retorted in her broadest brogue, “Nae, laddie! I’m as Scottish as the dee is lang!” She laughed.
“I-I am so s-sorry!” he stammered. “I hope I didn’t just deliver the worst insult imaginable.”
“Och, nae. Happens all the time. I dinna mind. Dinna fash yersel.” The man’s brow furrowed, so Maggie said, “And now I will revert back to the King’s English. Thank you for your concern.”
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