Gunn studied her, trying to make sense of her tale. It was clear she believed every word she said. Her story was her truth. It would be a terrible shame for such a fine woman to be tetched in the head. But what else would explain such outlandishness?
Of course, there was the lore. He remembered his Norse grandmam’s stories about the lights. How their gleaming colors were the reflections off the Valkyries’ armor as they led warriors to Odin. Old Grandmam also spoke about how the play of colors across the night sky was sometimes the breath of brave soldiers who died in combat. On his Scottish side, his ancestors said the lights were epic fights among sky warriors or fallen angels. Who knew what real magic the wondrous lights held?
“I dinna ken how I came to be here,” Lorna said, interrupting his weighing of her story. “I just know I am here and not sure what to do.”
The desperation in her voice touched him, and that, he could not allow. He forced himself to harden his heart, and sat taller. “If what ye say is true, then why did Lady Murdina claim ye to be her son’s nursemaid as if ye had served her for ages?”
Lorna’s expression hardened. “Ye will have to ask her that.” Pure disgust registered in her tone.
“Ye dinna like her.”
She drummed her fingers on the table and cast another look around. “Did Mrs. Thistlewick not order me some wine?”
“Aye, she did, but I signaled we were not to be disturbed while we talked.” He leaned over the table and pinned her with his gaze. “Why do ye not like the Lady Murdina?”
Barely controlled contempt puckered the tempting bow of her mouth. “I dinna like people who are unkind to children or animals.” She rose and stood beside the table. “If ye dinna mind, I want to check on Frances and Hesther now. Make sure they are okay.”
“Make sure they are what?”
She flinched and shuffled a half step away. “Uhm…make certain they are settling in and have everything they need.” She lifted her chin, assuming a protective aloofness. “Besides, should ye not be attending to the Lady Murdina and her brother? According to yer daughter, they are yer guests.”
“I am chieftain, and Iattendto whomever I wish.”
He stood and squared off in front of her. This one was highborn to be sure. A regal timbre echoed in her sultry voice, and the subtle stirrings she unleashed within him were concerning. He sensed the heat she awakened within him could become lethal with little or no encouragement.
“I recommend ye mind yer tone with both myself and the Lady Murdina.” He took a step closer and gave her a quelling gaze. “At least until ye share the truth of yer plight so I might help ye.”
She glared up at him, her face an unreadable mask. “Is that all, Chieftain Sinclair?”
“What is yer truth, Mistress Lorna?”
“I already told ye.” Her tone had turned dull and expressionless.
“My lord!” Lady Murdina emerged from the southern stairwell. The trilling pitch of her voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. She swept toward them, her bright green gown more fitting for an evening ball than midday at a wintry keep. “Our rooms are lovely. Thank ye for settling us in so nicely.”
He didn’t miss the venomous gaze she shot at Lorna. Stepping between them, he took Lady Murdina’s hand. “I am glad ye find Thursa to yer liking.” He didn’t reveal what Bella had reported. That information would be saved for a later time. “Did Mrs. Thistlewick’s tonic help yer brother?” From the amount of whisky the housekeeper had added to the scant spoonful of honey and heated wine, it should have knocked the man on his arse.
Lady Murdina beamed with gratitude. “Indeed, it did. He is sleeping like a wee babe.”
Lorna cleared her throat and stepped closer. “Excuse me for interrupting, but if someone could show me the way to Frances and Hesther, that would be lovely.”
“I was wondering why ye were neglecting my son,” Lady Murdina said, her tone dripping with daggers.
“Were ye now?” Lorna said. “And just when were ye going to tell me I had suddenly become yer employee?”
Lady Murdina’s lips parted, and Gunn picked up on a nervous twitch in the corner of her left eye. He stepped back, stanching a smile while preparing to enjoy the entertainment. From what he had observed so far, he would place his wages on Lorna.
The haughty Murdina flipped a hand and huffed a fake laugh. “Silly lass. Always playing games. How many times must I tell ye to save all that for Frances?” Her smile turned even icier. “After all, without ye, my wee Frances would feel as though I had tossed him to wolves.” She arched an auburn brow, the twitching in her eye gone. “Ye wouldna wish poor Frances harmed now, would ye?”
Gunn shifted his focus to Lorna. The communication between the two women went much deeper than words. Had Lady Murdina actually threatened to harm her own son if Lorna didn’t do as she wished? He remained silent, waiting to see how the duel played out.
“I will not allow Frances or Hesther harmed,” Lorna said through clenched teeth. “Not under any circumstances.”
“Good, then,” Lady Murdina said in a tone as syrupy as treacle. “We understand each other.”
“No one will be harmed here,” Gunn interjected. Ill feelings between the two or not, he would not allow Lady Murdina to manipulate anyone in his keep with the use of threats. His instincts bellowed that he had sorely erred in allowing this one into his midst. He wanted a wife he could never love, but not a hateful wretch. He set a stern gaze upon the woman. “I assume the sharpness in yer tone comes from weariness, m’lady?”
Her eyes flared wider, but she recovered quickly and smiled. “Of course, m’lord.” With a friendly dip of her head in Lorna’s direction, she added a casual flip of a hand. “Mistress Lorna understands me completely. She knows there is no ill will between us two or myself and my son.”
