The men nodded, looking all too much like scolded school boys.
A scene flashed through her mind.
These four men and Kieran lounging around a table in a ship’s cabin. They were laughing, passing around a bottle of whisky and saying something that set Mr. Campbell to blushing.
The memory was . . . light-hearted.
An ache rose in her chest, and along with it, an intrinsic understanding that these mendidcare about her. The sense that perhaps, like Simon, they could offer her safe harbor.
And why, why,whydid this entire situation have to be so unsettling and confusing?!
Eilidh took a step forward and sat on a chair.
“Did I go willingly to the altar?” She asked the question to the floor as much as to the men around her.
“Ewan is the only one who witnessed the ceremony,” Sir Rafe said, retaking in his seat. “The rest of us didn’t learn of your marriage until long after.”
She frowned. “You all weren’t there? You were not invited?”
“Kieran wished tae keep it private,” Lord Hadley said, also sitting back on his stool. “It was a tremendous risk, marrying yourself. But ye clearly cared deeply for our Kieran.That. . . we all noticed.”
“Aye. Ye wouldnae have handfasted with him otherwise.” Mr. Campbell nodded.
“A handfasting?” She looked up, up, up to Mr. Campbell. “So it wasn’t a proper ceremony then? Nothing recorded in a parish record or captain’s log?”
Mr. Campbell shook his head. “Nae. It was quite secret. But ye married of your own free will, lass. That I can promise ye. The rest . . .” He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ye should likely ask Kieran for details.”
“I cannot say I wish to.” The less contact she had with Master MacTavish, the better.
Besides, her mind had lunged at the wordhandfasting, searching for a loophole. She and MacTavish had an irregular marriage, one that had never been properly recorded. Was it even a marriage then? Perhaps she would not be forced to tie her life to his. Perhaps there was a way out of this predicament.
Perhaps . . .
“I would prefer to remain here, if I could, at Kilmeny Hall, not in the castle.” Eilidh looked at each of them. “I do not need Master MacTavish’s help. You all could tell me about the trip—”
“That’s not possible, lass,” Lord Hadley said gently.
Eilidh frowned.
“Aye.” Lord Lockheade nodded. “We all leave in the morning, as we were only here to answer to Mr. Patterson’s summons. But we will return for the Midsummer Festival on the summer solstice.”
“And though Ewan here is far too polite to say so,” Sir Rafe said with a rueful twist of his lips, “it would be inconsiderate to continue to impose upon Lady Kildrum’s hospitality, given her current condition—”
“Och!” Mr. Campbell waved a hand. “Youse are all welcome tae stay, ye ken that—”
“Aye, we know, but you’ve this fine painting tae finish—” Lord Hadley waved a hand at the colorful canvas before Mr. Campbell, swirling with reds and blues. It appeared to be an image of a Highland family sending a soldier off to war. “—and your lady has a child tae birth. Not to mention, Lady Aster and Lady Rose arrived back home only an hour ago—”
“Lady Kildrum’s younger twin sisters,” Lord Lockheade whispered to Eilidh.
“—and the twins will tax whatever energy Lady Kildrum can muster.”
“Honestly, it’s why we’re all out here with Ewan and not in the house,” Sir Rafe said. “The twins can be . . .”
“Delightful?” Mr. Campbell supplied, a warning tone in his voice. “My fair sisters-in-law can be delightful? I’m quite sure that’s what ye were going tae say, aye?”
Sir Rafe chuckled. “Yes. They are refreshing, I’ll give ye that.”
“The point, as I’m sure ye have realized, Miss Fyffe,” Lord Lockheade said, “is that we feel it best to give Lady Kildrum and her family space during the remainder of her confinement and delivery. You, however, must remain here, per the orders of the Judge Admiral.”
