Remembering it now, she truly had not confirmed her intentions during their encounter in the dark of the night. Alan would have discussed it more, but Jamie arrived and Saraid seemed reticent to continue. Glancing at Bella, he knew she would be able to offer counsel. Mayhap she already planned to do exactly that, hence Mistress MacPherson’s presence?
‘Is she waiting for you to finish?’ he asked.
‘I suppose so,’ Bella said. The lady of the keep looked to the back of the hall and then at him. ‘I wonder if she has eaten yet.’
‘I have a boon to ask of you, Cousin,’ he said, putting his hand on hers before she could have the woman brought forward. Bella stopped and watched him with some suspicion in her gaze. ‘I think she needs the counsel of someone like you.’
‘Me?’
‘Aye. You are educated. Can read and write. You are married as she was. You have faced your own collection of difficult if not impossible situations. I think your advice and opinions would matter to her and help her in this time of loss and grief.’
He stopped short of voicing the growing suspicion of his own that Mistress MacPherson was either more than or different from what she presented herself to be. It was just a feeling on his part for now, so he did not wish to give Arabella something that was more whimsy than substance. Or give her a reason to fear the woman.
The other thing he relied on was Arabella’s excellent talent at meddling in the lives of others. It was worse if you were kin or if she liked you. But anyone who walked through her gates was a possibility to her and she flourished truly when she was meddling here or there. He saw the flush rise in her cheeks and the glimmer in her gaze as Bella studied the widow MacPherson. With the slightest movement of her hand, Lady Mackintosh sent a servant to bring the woman forward.
Alan watched as Mistress MacPherson made her way behind the servant. He was trying to decide if his opinion about her manners was correct or not. From here, her genteel movements were even more obvious to him as she moved along through those gathered for the meal. Though her gown was clean and her hair covered in the way of married women here, Alan could imagine her in the finest fabrics and jewels. Without even thinking, he stood when she reached the table and arrived behind Arabella.
‘My lady, ’tis good of you to speak to me,’ she said. ‘Sir.’ She nodded politely at him. ‘But I did not wish to interrupt your meal.’
Her eyes were clear and bright as she looked at him. Clearly she had recovered from whatever worries or concerns had afflicted her last night.
‘Join us,’ Arabella invited. ‘Bring a chair for Mistress MacPherson.’
Her servants being very competent, only a minute or two at most passed before the lovely widow was seated between them with a platter of food and a filled cup in front of her. Alan took his seat as she had.
‘So, did you spend the morn with Father Diarmid?’ Arabella asked her.
‘Aye,’ the widow replied. ‘I went with him as he called on those in need of his guidance and prayers.’
‘Is that something you have done before?’ Bella asked.
‘I visited the sick...’ For a moment that he might have missed if he’d been looking away, Alan saw the stricken expression in her eyes as though she’d made a terrible error. ‘I visited the sick in our village.’
‘Was that in Cluny?’ Alan asked.
‘Nay,’ she said, shaking her head and putting down the cup she’d only just lifted to her mouth. ‘We lived in the south, near my husband’s kin.’
He was about to ask which branch of the MacNeills her husband called his when Arabella glared at him.
‘Alan, Mistress MacPherson and I would speak of womanly matters, if you would excuse us?’
He had no choice really then to retreat strategically for the moment. Arabella had taken up his challenge, his invitation, and wanted to accomplish it her way. Having seen her methods in the past, he had no doubt that she would discover all the possible secrets that the widow MacPherson brought with her to Mackintosh lands.
‘I should find your husband, Lady,’ he said, standing and bowing to his cousin.
‘He is training with Rob,’ she replied. ‘You should find them in the yard for the next few hours.’
Much as he did not wish a repeat of his last battle in the yard, he would gladly watch Brodie and Rob fight it out there. As he walked out, he glanced back to see the two women talking quite seriously and Alan was not certain if he felt anticipation over discovering more about the enticing Widow MacPherson or fear over her being left alone with his cousin.
Only time would tell.
Chapter Eleven
Courage.
Courage.
Courage.
