“We need to talk to anyone who spent any amount of time with the chieftain’s first wife, Lady Merideth.”
The housekeeper’s mouth puckered as if she tasted something sour. “Lady Merideth’s maids are long gone.” Slowly, she turned and eyed Besseta. “But there is one here who befriended them. Besseta?”
“Aye?” The young girl eased forward, wringing her hands.
“Who was Lady Merideth’s true love?” Grant asked, unwilling to bandy about with words.
“Uhm…I am sure it was yerself, m’lord.” Besseta’s freckled cheeks flared a bright red.
“Tell him the truth,” Lyla gently urged. “You aren’t in any trouble.”
The maid’s big brown eyes grew wider as she faced him.
Grant tried to appear as non-threatening as possible. “Lady Merideth was forced to leave her true love behind. Who did she wish to marry but couldn’t? Did ye ever hear the man’s name?”
Besseta frowned, then tapped her forehead as if trying to wake her thoughts. “Name. I believe her maid Agnes told me. What was it?” She shifted her weight back and forth, now drumming her fingers against her temple. “I remember for certain the man was her clan’s farrier.”
“Think, lass!” Grant wanted to shake her but held himself back. “Our lives verra well could depend on it.”
“If you make her nervous, she will never think of it,” Lyla scolded.
Hands lifted in surrender; he bowed his head. “Take yer time, Besseta. I ken ye will bring it to mind if ye can.”
“Reginald Loughty!” she exclaimed with pride, then wilted like a dying flower. “But the man is dead.”
“Dead?” Hopes dashed, Grant dropped his head. What to do now? Sitting taller, he blew out a heavy sigh. “Are ye certain he is dead, lass?”
With a pained look, Besseta nodded. “Aye, my chieftain. Her maid, Agnes, received word of it from her mother who still worked for Lady Merideth’s clan, the Namaras.” She cringed as though fearing punishment. “And Agnes told Lady Merideth the sad news the day before she hanged herself.”
“That explains much,” he said.
“Indeed, it does,” Lyla added.
Grant recognized the set of her jaw and determination flashing in her eyes. “What are ye thinking, m’love?”
“The way I see it,” she paused, straightened her spine, and folded her hands on the table, “We have two choices. Either exhume Mr. Loughty and Merideth and bury them both in our graveyard, or exhume Merideth and take her to wherever he rests. Then her spirit might find his if their physical remains are placed together.”
“She canna be buried on hallowed ground,” Father Rubric said, his tone matter of fact.
“She was not in her right mind when she took her life,” Lyla argued. “She was lost. If no one helped her find peace while she lived, we can at least help her find peace now.”
The priest bristled. “God’s word—”
“Love the sinner but hate the sin,” Lyla interrupted, rising to her feet. “Leave it to God to judge her. Are you so without sin you could cast the first stone?”
The man clamped his mouth shut and lowered his gaze. “I shall pray about it.”
She turned to Besseta. “I don’t suppose Agnes confirmed whether or not Mr. Loughty was buried in his clan’s graveyard?”
Besseta gave a cringing shake of her head. “I am sorry, m’lady. She did not.”
Grant rose and paced up and down the center aisle between the rows of tables and benches. He thought better while moving. Under no circumstances would he leave Lyla and his children in search of a grave that may or may not exist. Nor would he send Malcolm and have his family left in danger.
He felt in his heart Chieftain Namara would not grant access to Clan Namara’s graveyard for a search and exhumation. Whether the man knew of his sister’s attachment to the clan’s farrier or not, he would not wish rumors stirred. “I fear our hope to reunite Merideth with her lover willna happen. As I remember, her brother held her in great disdain. Said she shamed her clan. ’Tis doubtful they would welcome us to explore their kirkyard.” He idly scratched the stubble along his jaw. “I feel our weariness and fears have twisted our ability to reason. We will move Lady Merideth’s final resting place to our kirkyard and mark it with a proper headstone. Perhaps a reference can be made to Reginald Loughty on it.”
Lyla held up crossed fingers. “With any luck, that will be enough. I need to join the babies in the garden now and hold them extra tight.”
Grant went to her, concerned about her pallor. “Should ye not lie down, m’love?”
