“Woman—”
She jabbed him again. “I said hush.”
“As ye wish it,” he finally rumbled with a defeated sigh.
CHAPTER13
“Aileas stirs unrest against Mistress Trulie.” Colum stopped beside the head table. His hand rested atop the worn pommel of his sword as he eyed those gathered in the hall. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “She raises questions about the fire and how ye were saved. She stirs suspicion in everyone’s mind. The Sinclair women—they must take care.”
This information did not surprise Gray, nor did he care for it any better now that Colum had voiced it. The familiar revulsion Aileas always triggered soured even more in his gut. He shifted in the chair and brought his attention to the small cluster of higher-ranking clanswomen gathered across the room. “Perhaps the Lady Aileas seeks to shift suspicion from herself.” Gray’s fists tightened atop the arms of his chair. “Or her beloved spawn.”
Aileas’s blotchy face was even ruddier than usual. The furious stirring of her pot of lies had no doubt set fire to her blood. She hunched forward, eyes bulging for want of air as her thin lips moved at lightning speed. Suddenly, she stopped speaking, straightened from the cluster of women, and looked all around the room. Her uneasy gaze locked with Gray’s glare.
She scowled right back at him, widening her stance and squaring her shoulders as though preparing to plow across the room. With a challenging toss of her head, she smoothed back the usual web of stringy brown curls wisping around her face. A conniving sneer tightened her mouth as she motioned for the group of women to join her in a more private corner.
Gray snorted. The women hanging on Aileas’s every word were the usual harpies who caused the most tension within the clan. The bitter females only found happiness when causing trouble for others. Three were widowed. One soon would be. Her frail husband had been ill for months. Gray slowly shook his head. The poor man probably prayed for death to escape his wife.
The quartet of self-proclaimed righteous women stood with their plump hands pressed against their bosoms as though they couldn’t believe Aileas’s latest revelations. And they shouldn’t believe a word from her lips. The woman was a lying bitch.
“Have ye warned Granny and bade Coira to make certain that Trulie kens the danger?” Gray turned back to Colum as he shifted in the chair and forced himself to maintain the controlled air befitting a Highland chieftain.
Colum’s ears flushed a deep red and he fidgeted in place. “When I spoke to Granny Sinclair, the old woman gave me a hard look up and down and asked how I felt about marriage.”
“Did she now?” Gray cast another sideways glance at Colum and chuckled. So Colum was to be Granny Nia’s next target, perhaps? Good. Being chosen by Granny Sinclair was not so bad—after all, had she not matched him to a green-eyed beauty well fitted to his heart and soul? Aye, she would do Colum justice as well. “And pray tell, how did ye respond?”
Colum huffed in a deep breath then released it with a groan. “I told her I was a man of the sword. I had no time for a wife.”
“And her response?”
Colum shuffled uncomfortably in place while his gaze darted about the room. “She laughed.”
“I see.” Gray did his best not to smile. Poor Colum. The man was no match for Granny Sinclair. He might as well place his sword at her feet and beg for a merciful decision.
“Aye.” Colum bobbed his head faster as if affirming every word. “And then she added that Aileas was... ” Colum paused and scrubbed a hand down his face as though trying to choose his carefully. “She said Aileas better not tangle with them because they had trapped worse sore-tailed bears than her.”
Sore-tailed bears?Gray turned and fully faced Colum. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Colum shrugged and shook his head. “I canna say. Half of what either of those women say makes no sense to me.”
Gray chuckled. Poor Colum. He had to admit he felt the same. He knew the clan was curious about the Sinclair women’s words as well, adding weight to Aileas’s accusations.
His amusement disappeared as the four troublesome shrews and Aileas went silent. They turned as one and trained haughty stares on Trulie as she entered the room with Coira at her side.
Trulie paused and stared them all down until they turned away.
Admiration filled Gray as he rose from his seat. Such strength. Trulie was fearless. Tamhas and Granny had not been so far off the mark with their wee matchmaking game.
“And how do ye fare this fine, frosty morning, Mistress Trulie?” Gray knew exactly how she fared this morning. She had been smiling and flushed pink with pleasure when he had risen from her bed after properly thanking her yet again for saving him from the stable fire.
“I am quite well, thank you.” She flashed a meaningful smile back at Gray, which was fully understood. “Colum said we might be of some help to you today.”
Grudgingly, Gray pushed the memory of her sprawled across piles of pillows to the back of his mind. He nodded toward the gaggle of scowling women gathered across the room. “Aye. Today, the hall is open for the airing of grievances. I would like ye to be present while I hear them. I would know yer thoughts about each person once they have spoken. Perhaps ye can discover who set fire to the stable.”
“Perhaps a murderer might be found as well,” Colum said as he scowled first at Aileas and then swiveled his glare to the other side of the room. The long plank tables had been pulled to the side nearest the kitchens. Several men sat scattered among the benches, their weapons laid atop the table beside their tankards as they quietly talked. Sitting alone at the table closest to the corner, Fearghal slumped forward clutching a chipped mug with both hands as though he feared it was about to escape him.
Trulie gasped, her eyes went wide, and her face paled. She latched onto Coira’s arm for balance as she bowed her head.
Gray rushed to gather her hands in his. His alarm deepened at the unnatural iciness of her flesh. “What troubles ye? What has made ye unwell?”
