Hugh tugged the door open a bit and nodded to whoever stood there. A few whispered words were exchanged and then Hugh stood back and looked at her.
‘Catriona. Someone to speak to you.’
Hugh would say nothing more, so she went to the door and waited as he opened it. Had Munro had a change of heart? Would he allow her back into Gowan’s...his house to live? Instead, her heart beat faster as she saw Aidan MacLerie standing there. As grim-faced as Hugh when she glanced at him, the earl’s son stood, arms crossed over his chest and not a hint of his purpose there. She would have just refused, but she would make no more trouble for Muireall’s husband. Cat stepped outside into the foggy morning, closed the door and waited for him to speak.
‘Good morrow to you,’ he said, nodding at her. ‘My thanks for speaking to me.’
Confused by his presence and more by his ill-at-ease manner, Cat could not imagine what this was about. Would he finally speak out and tell the truth of it? Could he convince Munro and the others that nothing existed between them?
‘My lord,’ she pressed. ‘Why did you want to speak to me?’
He met her gaze and then looked away, as though searching for someone or something down the lane. His face had the hard angles of masculine beauty that seemed to run in his family. She’d seen the earl close by and the expression then and now in his son were the same.
Intense. Fierce, even. Handsome in a rugged way. Growing into the model his father was even now.
‘I have done you wrong, Catriona. My behavior has led to your disgrace. I tried to speak to Munro,’ he began.
He’d tried? That meant he’d failed.
‘But, he would not hear me out.’
So he had tried to make things better and had stood up for her. Munro was young and had a fiery temper. That temper had led him to attack the earl’s son when he first thought he’d taken Cat as his lover, dishonouring her husband.
‘I cannot change what has happened, but I want to help you through this,’ he said. His arms dropped to his sides and she could not take her attention from the way his hands fisted and relaxed, over and over, until she could almost feel it on her skin. ‘Do you know my cousin? Ciara Robertson?’
Cat blinked several times, not following this conversation.
‘What do you mean? I know who Ciara Robertson is, everyone in Lairig Dubh does.’
Ciara Robertson, stepdaughter to the MacLerie peacemaker, served as his assistant and did what no woman ever had before—carried out negotiations on behalf of the earl and conducted his business at her stepfather’s side.
‘She has asked that you meet her at her house at noon this day. Can you, will you, do that?’
Dozens of questions swirled in her thoughts and when she chose one to ask, he shook his head, cutting off her words.
‘She will explain everything to you then. If you would prefer, ask your friend to accompany you.’ His gaze softened then and he smiled, a sad one that lifted but one corner of his mouth. ‘Leave your questions for now—it will all be clear to you then.’
Cat could only nod at him, agreeing to this strange request and meeting with a woman she’d only seen, but had never spoken to before. He nodded and turned to leave, taking a step towards the lane before stopping. Looking over his shoulder as though he remembered something to say, he faced her in the eerie silence of the fog.
‘And I am sorry about Gowan’s death. I did not...’
He paused then, and though he did not finish that thought and it seemed like he had more to say about it, he left without saying whatever it was.
Cat stood there, confused and unable to move. Within a dozen paces, he faded into the fog that surrounded the cottages and covered the village in its misty grip. She waited for some moments, standing in the silence and watching the patterns that the growing winds carved into the ghostly air. Then the sounds of children now roused for their day grew louder behind her so she opened the door and went back to the table. From the frown her friend wore on her brow, Cat knew Muireall was bursting to know what had conspired between her and the earl’s son. She also knew Muireall would practise the patience of a mother until they could speak alone to find out what had happened.
Should she bring her along, as Aidan MacLerie suggested? What business did Ciara Robertson have with a person like Catriona?
* * *
Though she had expected the hours to crawl by as she considered all the possibilities in her thoughts, soon the noon hour approached and it was time to go. Muireall walked at her side, not chatting as was her usual custom to do, and in some way it made Cat more nervous than if she chattered away. As they approached the large house, larger than most in the village, the door opened and the young woman walked to greet them.
‘Welcome,’ she said. Her smile was warm and genuine. ‘You must be Catriona MacKenzie?’ The woman nodded at her and then glanced at Muireall.
‘This is my friend, Muireall, my lady.’ For how else did you address someone so much higher in position than you were? Unsure of the woman’s noble blood or not, but certain of her wealth and power, she waited for her reaction.
‘Not a lady,’ she said on a laugh. ‘You may call me Ciara if you’d like? Or Mistress MacLerie if you prefer, though with so many MacLeries about, many will answer to that! And I am acquainted with Gair’s sister. Good day to you both.’
A pretty, vibrant young woman, Ciara Robertson wore her long, blonde hair in a braid, not covered the way most married women did there, but with a veil and circlet instead. Her clothing was of a quality far above a simple ‘mistress’, but she did not put on the attitude of those higher than Cat. Instead, she felt at ease with her immediately.
