Important Matters
Kendric brandished his crutch and chattered loudly as his bearers carried him into the keep. “The day’s events seem to have served as a tonic,” Ewan said to David and Walter.
“He does loo…loo…look better,” the lad agreed.
Gilbertson chuckled. “Kendric is strong. He’ll recover, though he still complains of pain in his hip.”
Ewan clamped a hand on David’s shoulder. “Now, hero of the hour, we have the unsavory task of bringing down Ailig’s body.”
“That’s nay…nay…a job for a laird,” his kinsman retorted. “I’ll fi…find men to aid me.”
Ewan at first thought to insist, but perhaps it was wiser to let the youth take charge of an important, if gruesome duty. “Fine,” he replied. “Walter can likely provide names.”
Walter nodded. “I suggest we take the body down to the ice vaults. There’s likely still a goodly amount of snow hauled from Ben Nevis last winter.”
Ewan indicated his agreement. “We also need to clean up the filth in the secret chamber.”
“Not much use having a secret chamber now the Mackinlochs are aware of it,” Walter quipped with a wink.
Ewan acknowledged the irony. However, as Walter and David quickly organized a group of willing men to carry out the distasteful tasks, he remained convinced a hidden refuge was a good thing to maintain.
He went by way of the hall to retrieve the codex, and assumed Shona had taken it when he discovered it was no longer atop the head table. She evidently knew where the clan’s annals were kept. He looked forward to investigating the history of her clan from the MacCarron point of view. No doubt the accounts of clashes with the Mackinlochs would be very different from those kept in Roigh Hall.
Confident that matters needing immediate attention were in hand, he toyed with the notion of seeking out his bride and wiling away the rest of the afternoon with her. His body heated at the prospect of whispered intimacies.
He shook his head. A laird couldn’t always do what he wanted, no matter how great his desire to seek reassurance in the arms of his beloved that he had survived the first major test of his temporary lairdship. His duty was to meet with Kendric to discuss the future of Creag Castle and Clan MacCarron.
*
Still carrying the codex, Shona tiptoed into her aunt’s chamber, having dispatched Moira to prepare a bath and fresh garments for the evening meal in the hall. Jeannie lay on the bed, seemingly asleep between the sheets. Fynn rose from the chair, a finger pressed to his lips. “Her maid bathed and put her to bed,” he whispered. “She didna want to speak of her ordeal.”
Shona worried Jeannie couldn’t bring herself to reveal the harm Ailig might have inflicted, but Fynn looked like a man reborn now the woman he loved was safe. She didn’t want to cast a shadow on his happiness. “I’m glad my aunt found ye,” she told him. “Ye’re a good man and she deserves happiness.”
He clenched his jaw. “I swear I’ll take good care of her,” he rasped.
Shona nodded. “But now Ewan needs ye. I’ll stay here.”
He bowed slightly then tiptoed out. She suspected it had been many a year since the proud warrior had bowed to anybody. His respect was humbling. Mayhap she did have the makings of a good laird’s wife.
She put the codex down carefully and crept to the bed, surprised to see Jeannie had both eyes open. “Ye’re awake.”
“I was pretending,” she confessed. “Fynn insisted I sleep, but how can a woman sleep when all she can think of is ripping the mon’s clothes off?”
Shona laughed. “Auntie!”
Jeannie sat up. “My biggest regret when I feared Ailig meant to murder me was that I hadna lain with Fynn. In the way a woman lays with a man, if ye get my drift.”
“I get yer drift, right enough,” Shona managed to reply, despite the laughter constricting her throat. But then she sobered and took her aunt’s hand when the words sank in. “Ye believed he’d kill ye?”
“I was certain of it, especially sitting atop yon tower wi’ my arse in the wind.”
Jeannie would probably regret these unladylike outbursts. “I think yer fear has got the better of yer tongue,” Shona said softly.
Her aunt shook her head. “From now on I plan to say what I like, and take what I want. And I want Fynn Macintyre.” She averted her strange eyes. “If he’ll have me.”
“I’m sure he will. He doesna care if…” She stopped abruptly, ashamed of what she’d been about to imply.
Jeannie snorted. “Dinna fret, pet. Ailig and his weasel of a brother didna have their way wi’ me. Ailig takes his pleasure wi’ his fists, and I doot Mungo knows what to do wi’ a woman, despite his never-ending boasting.”
Shona was torn between laughing and crying. “Did he hurt ye?”
Jeannie shrugged. “The bruises will heal.”
*
On his way into Kendric’s apartments, Ewan collided with a red-faced Cummings.
“Stubborn old man,” the physician mumbled.
“I assume ye’re referring to the laird,” he replied with a grin.
Cummings rolled his eyes. “He willna listen to my advice that he stay in bed. Wants to sit in the chair.”
Ewan shrugged, reminded of his own obstinate father. “In my experience with men of his ilk, ’tis a waste of time to argue.”
Cummings smiled resignedly. “Aye.”
Ewan closed the door behind him, confident there was no longer a need to drop the bar for security.
Kendric beckoned. “Come sit by me,” he said. “We’ve important things to discuss.”
Espying nothing else to sit on, Ewan carried a footstool over to the chair and perched on it, hoping it wouldn’t give way under his weight. “The date of my marriage to Shona, for one,” he said.
Kendric raised an eyebrow. “Weel, that wasna the first thing on my list, but I suppose we must settle the details of the hand-fasting.”
Ewan shook his head. “I’m nay interested in hand-fasting. I want her for my forever wife.”
Kendric chuckled. “Good, good. I suppose we’ll need time to publish the notices, though we sent out messengers with news of the agreement with yer clan sennights ago.”
Ewan reckoned Shona would be his in two to three weeks, but the mention of the agreement brought up an unavoidable topic. “We must discuss the payment of the installments yer clan promised to mine.”
Kendric squirmed. “That wasna even on my list, but ye can see to that now ye’re laird.”
Another obstacle out of the way. “What to do with Ailig’s body?”
Shona’s uncle stared at him. “Is this a long list ye intend to trot out before I can address my concerns, laddie?”
Ewan didn’t know how to respond, but Kendric saved him the trouble. “Donald tells me Niall Morley will soon be sufficiently recovered to return to Glen Nevis, though he’ll walk with a terrible limp after Ruadh feasted on his leg. Punishment enough, I warrant. He can take Ailig’s body back with him.”
Satisfied with this solution, Ewan pressed on. “I believe my kinsman will seek permission to wed Lady Jeannie.”
Kendric’s florid face reddened further. “By heck, o’ course. Fynn is a grand lad. Aught else?”
Ewan hesitated to bring up another point. Kendric clearly had something important on his mind. “David and…”
“Aye, another good match, but now I’ll have no more delays so we can discuss what’s worrying me. Do ye have a plan for the stag yon dog tracked?” He slapped his uninjured thigh. “Who’d have thought Ruadh capable of bringing down such a prize?”