As they descended the hillside into a broad valley, tiredness again swept over him. A small cottage stood alone about a quarter of a mile ahead. It looked close to collapse. It had looked far different in the past. “We shall see if Drummond and his wife still reside there.”
They made it to the cottage just in time. Above their heads the rain which had threatened all day came down in a sudden torrent. Even the torches on the castle walls struggled against it.
Eddard hammered on the door of the cottage. “I have a sheep to sell,” he called out.
The door scraped open. “The last boy who tried to sell me my own sheep got a clip around the ear for his trouble.”
The old man standing in the entrance suddenly smiled, the warmth lighting up his watery eyes. “Eddard MacGregor, as I live and breathe.”
“You remember me then, Drummond?”
“Who could forget the boy who killed Ronald’s brother? Couldn’t you have run the steward through as well, save us all a world of trouble? And who’s this?”
“Let us in out this rain and we shall tell you.”
“Of course, where are my manners. In you come, both of you?”
Once inside, Eddard saw Maggie under the covers in the corner by the fire. Her eyes were closed.
“She sleeps most times now,” Drummond said by way of explanation. “What she needs is an apothecary but there are none at the castle anymore.”
“Where did they go?”
“All went in search of better food elsewhere. Ronald will be the death of us all.”
“Aye, but perhaps not for much longer. Recognize the lass?”
Drummond squinted in the low light of the cottage, examining Jessica closely. “Jings, it’s the spitting image of Rachel.”
“It’s Morag, back from her travels.”
“Praise the Lord.” The man pumped Jessica’s hand up and down. “Morag, by God, it’s good to see you once more.”
“Halloo,” Jessica replied in a decent Scottish accent. “Och, it’s good tae be back.”
“Well sit doon. Sit doon. I’ll get you both some stew.”
“You dinnae need to share with us,” Eddard said. “We’re fine.”
“Nonsense,” Maggie said, her eyes still closed. “Some MacGregors still share with guests no matter what that steward may do.”
The meal was warm and good. Eddard stole glances at Jessica throughout. He found himself wondering if they would see another night together. Tomorrow, everything would change. One way or another it would all be over soon.
He wasn’t sure whether to be glad or not.
Drummond yawned while they scraped the last of the food from their bowls. “We have little space but you can lay together by the fire if you like. It will stay warm a while longer yet.”
“You dinnae want to stay up and play dice?” Eddard asked. “Like the old days?”
“No he does not,” Maggie said, her eyes opening briefly. “He has little enough money to gamble with as it is.”
“Good night,” Drummond said, climbing into the bed beside his wife. A minute later he was snoring loudly.
Jessica arranged the blankets by the fire, clambering into them and looking up at him. By the light of the flames she looked at her prettiest.
He climbed in beside her, lying back on the flattened earth below them. “Where are you from?” he whispered. “Your Scottish accent is no affectation. It is a natural one.”
“I don’t know where I’m from,” she replied, her eyes half closed, her hands behind her head.
