“Were ye now?” Cook gave a solemn nod. “Good mouser, that Mosie is. Glad to know she has some wee ones to train up to follow in her footsteps. If ye wish, ye can take her a nice saucer of cream later. I will have the girls set it aside while they are drawing the butter.”
“Mosie will like that.” Bella hugged her again.
“We thought we would take himself a nice tray of warm bannocks,” Lorna said. “Sir Jasper informed us he’s been in the library all day and is sure to be hungry.”
Cook shared a dubious look then cocked a sparse brow. “Locked himself in there again, eh?” She shook her head and clucked like a nesting hen. Moving with a slow, hitching waddle, she motioned for them to follow her to the long stone bench beside the ovens. “Alice! Fetch some of the freshest butter and himself’s favorite honey. And a pitcher of ale. The tray is over there. Hie wi’ ye now whilst we pick out the best of the bannocks to brighten our chief’s day.”
“Yes’m.” One of the lasses churning cream handed off the chore to the other girl working with her at the tall wooden casks. The remaining maid stepped between the churns and continued sloshing both plungers up and down to coax the liquid into releasing its solids.
“Shall I have one of the lassies bring it?” Cook asked as she finished filling the tray with Gunn’s favorites.
“I can get the tray,” Lorna said. “And Bella can carry the pitcher.”
Cook approved with a smile, then lumbered back to the ovens. She cast a knowing wink their way before bending to check the fire again. “God be with ye for interrupting him.”
“God be with us indeed,” Lorna repeated as she led the way down the narrow corridor. Just as they turned into the hall that ended at the chieftain’s sanctuary, Lady Murdina emerged from their target, closed the door behind her, then paused to straighten her clothing and hair.
An unjust pang of jealousy hit Lorna, then quickly shifted to an ominous spark of suspicion. It was Lady Murdina’s smug expression. The woman appeared too well pleased with herself. As if she had just gotten away with murder. The lady’s evil smile became even more menacing when she lifted her head and spotted them.
“My, my. What have we here?” The she-devil sashayed closer, her swishing skirts reminding Lorna of the sound of a guillotine blade cutting through the air. The conniving matron feigned delight, fluttering both hands while examining the contents of the tray. Without asking, she plucked the plumpest of the bannocks off the plate, ripped a steaming chunk from it, and popped it into her mouth.
“These are for my da,” Bella said. She pushed between the tray and Lady Murdina. “Andonlymy da.”
“Now, Bella.” Lorna tried to defuse the situation by turning aside and holding the tray out of Lady Murdina’s reach. “He willna miss the one, and if he does, we will fetch him more.”
Lady Murdina smiled down at the little girl, then bristled with a chortle that resembled a warning growl. “That is right, child. Listen to yer nursemaid. After all, before too much longer, whatever belongs to yer father becomes mine as well.”
Lorna glared at the vile woman. Those words were a call to battle if she’d ever heard one. She shoved past and rudely bumped the woman aside so Bella could lead the way to the library unhindered. “Excuse us, Lady Murdina. The chieftain likes his bannocks hot from the oven.”
“Oh, they will be long cold by the time he awakens,” the lady called out in a chilling tone. “But by all means”—she saucily tipped her head toward the library—“continue on.” Then she turned and sashayed down the hallway, humming loudly and out of tune.
“She has done something,” Bella said.
“I agree.” Panic rising, Lorna nodded at the door. “Hurry and open it so we can make sure yer da is all right.”
“Da?” Bella called out as she swung the door open wide and waited at the threshold. No answer came. Not a sound filled the library other than the quietly crackling fire in the hearth.
“Bella, I want ye to stay right here, ye ken?” A suffocating sense that something was very wrong closed in on Lorna. What had that vile woman left behind for them to find?
“No, I want to see about Da!”
Lorna blocked the way, then bent and looked the child in the eyes. “Not until I check the room. Something is amiss here. I feel it. Please, Bella. Yer da would want ye to wait until I call ye in.”
The lass’s bottom lip trembled, and her dark eyes filled with tears. “If she has hurt him…”
“If she has hurt him, she will pay.” Lorna caught the child up in a hug, then stepped back and looked her in the eyes again. “I swear it.”
“I will wait here till ye call. Because Da would want it.” The youngling resettled her footing and tipped a determined nod. “But hurry.”
Lorna nodded as she slid the tray onto a nearby table. “Gunn? Bella and I have some fresh bannocks for ye. Still hot enough to melt some of Cook’s freshest butter.”
Silence. Then a low, ominous moan.
She rushed toward the sound, across the room to the seating area facing the hearth. When she rounded the center couch, she jerked to a halt. Gunn lay sprawled across it, his kilt shoved up around his waist and his impressive man parts exposed. Mouth ajar. His eyes partially open but almost glazed. Arms and legs as limp as a child’s rag doll. Another guttural, wheezing sound came from him.
Lorna moved to his side and yanked his kilt back down where it belonged, offering him what dignity she could. “Gunn?”
He gurgled without moving his partially open mouth.
