“If it is honest, kindness is no measure.Confess it, Duncan.”
Duncan pursed his lips, for he was no diplomat.“There are women of wit and wisdom whose merit as wives only increases with their age.I believe that Radegunde is one such, and I will be glad to have her hand in mine.”
Fergus, of course, did not miss his implication.“But you think Isobel is not such a woman,” he guessed.
Duncan winced.“I believe she might feel the passing of time more keenly, or her father would.I make no excuses for her, a broken promise is still a betrayal, but I must wonder if there were other factors she found persuasive.”
“And I will wager that you think Leila of a similar ilk to Radegunde.”
Duncan smiled.“Perhaps you do see clearly, after all, lad.”
“Love must be of import, Duncan,” Fergus insisted, and Duncan wondered who he sought to convince.
“Love might need time to blossom, as it did for Gaston and Ysmaine.”
Fergus did not reply to that, and Duncan could only hope he would think upon it.Tempest was saddled and Duncan heard Hamish outside the stables with his palfrey.The younger man came to him and offered his hand.“I wish you Godspeed, Duncan, and every blessing on your journey,” Fergus said.“May you find what you seek and secure a home for yourself and Radegunde.”
“I thank you, lad.”
“We have talked of this before, but you know you are welcome at Killairic.”
“And I know that my path lies north, that my future must be built upon my past.”
They embraced then, and Duncan knew he would miss the younger man’s company.When Fergus spoke, his voice was husky.“One of us should be joyous in marriage, Duncan, and that task now falls to you.Ride forth and prove to me that love can conquer all.”
“Do not be so quick to dismiss your chance of a good match,” Duncan scolded.“You may not be able to see past the shadow of this disappointment, but I do not believe myself to be the sole one of us destined to happiness.”
Fergus did not look convinced.
Yet.
He returned to Tempest and swung into the saddle, riding the beast out of the stable and speaking to Hamish.As Duncan turned back to the hall, where he would break his fast, he heard the horses canter through the village and then to run.He believed that Fergus had already found the wife he deserved, if that man would but open his eyes to see the truth.
Leila awakenedwith the sense that someone was nearby.
Not Fergus.
She felt the key to the solar beneath her fingers and guessed that Fergus had left the door unlocked.The hair prickled on the back of her neck, as if she was being closely watched, and she smelled straw.There was no straw in this fine bed.She smelled onions, as well.Raw ones.She opened her eyes ever so slightly to find Agnes examining the trunks and making her way to the door to the treasury.
The girl slept on a straw pallet and had likely cut onions in the kitchen.
Leila rolled to her back with a sigh, as if she moved in her sleep, but kept a wary gaze upon the girl.Agnes started and glanced toward the bed, then stepped toward the treasury door.She ran a fingertip over the lock and bit her lip, glanced back at the bed, then silently tried the latch.Leila’s eyes narrowed, her resolve to limit the girl’s access to anything of import redoubled.
She did not blame Fergus for his trust of those welcomed in his father’s hall, but she did not share it either.
She yawned noisily and stretched, hearing Agnes hasten back to the door.When Leila opened her eyes and sat up, the girl gave every appearance of just arriving at the threshold with a bucket of steaming water.She smiled and curtsied, but Leila was not fooled.
She made sure the girl saw the lace around her neck with the key, and how she added the second key to it before she replaced it around her neck and rose from the bed.
“Good morning, my lady,” Agnes said, curtseying again.
Leila decided to disguise her understanding of Gaelic.She could have replied in kind, but instead bowed her head once and answered in French.Agnes would not be the sole one with secrets in this keep.
She pointed to the door and shooed Agnes in that direction.When the girl stepped over the threshold, Leila closed and locked the door, ensuring that the girl heard the lock tumble.Then she washed and dressed alone.The laces were at the sides of the kirtle, so she did not need assistance.She swept the floor and shook out the linens, hanging the coverlets and pelts to air.She left the shutters open then unlocked the door.
Agnes was sitting upon the step, waiting for her, and quickly hid her mutinous expression.Her gaze flicked past Leila to the cleaned solar and her surprise showed.Leila gave her the bucket of water and the one of slops, then pointed down the stairs.“Today, we will clean the hall,” she told the girl in French, who clearly did not understand but was leery of whatever Leila had planned.
Her lips tightened when Leila locked the solar door, and Leila held the girl’s gaze as she dropped the key down the front of her chemise.She gestured then and the girl preceded her, her mood most clear.
