Ellie thought back to one of the reasons the laird had given her for why he wanted her in the keep, and that was to help Jemina embrace her lady-like qualities, to help guide her. This was at least one way she could help.
“I think ye should go,” she replied, giving Jemina a sturdy nod. “I think it would be a nice change of pace for ye, and if Colin likes ye so much as tae ask tae share a meal, ye have every right tae say aye.”
“Really?” Jemina beamed, and for the first time in days, Ellie felt the stirrings of happiness take hold. She liked seeing her new friend happy.
“Really.”
“Will ye plead me case with Da?” Jemina asked.
“Do nay worry about yer Da,” Ellie said. “He barely notices a thing we do, and if he should ask, I’ll tell him I granted ye leave. You will need tae take two maids as a chaperone.” And then remembering what Aidam had told her about safety, she added, “and two of the men as guards.”
“Oh, Hel-Ellie, thank ye! I will take th’ whole of the clan's army. I promise!” Jemina hugged her tight, smile from ear to ear.
“Well, look at these two young lassies,” Sinclair entered the hall and approached the table, Ellie and Jemina both shocked to see him. He had not joined an evening meal since the feast. “What are the hens cluckin’ about?”
Jemina shot Ellie a look, pleading. But Ellie knew the father, and now was not the time to bring up the girl’s upcoming dinner. “We were discussing our dressmaking and how Jemina’s skills improved every day, my laird,” she said, knowing that the topic would be dull enough to drive his attention away.
"Ahh, yes," he said, already looking for a serving girl to bring him a plate of food. Ellie squeezed Jemina’s hand and gave her a wink. The girl smiled in return and went back to her own place at the table.
“Very well,” Sinclair said, already distracted by a pint of ale.
“How was yer day, my laird?” Ellie asked in a feeble attempt to make polite conversation. She was going to break their betrothal whether the laird agreed or not, but the least she could do was keep her manners in place until that happened and hope he remembered enough not to destroy her brother’s keep.
“Busy, nothing a pretty lass need bother herself with,” he replied. Ellie wanted to scream, rail against his mundane answer, but she held her tongue in check, instead taking a larger than polite sip of her wine.
The doors to the hall burst open, and Sinclair jumped to his feet, sword at the ready. Intrusions were rare, and the hall was busy.
“My laird!” a tall, thick man shouted as he made his way forward through the tables of remaining diners. “I need yer help.”
“Damon, ye could not have come in with less of a show?” Sinclair asked, settling back into his seat at seeing a familiar face. Ellie had seen the man before too. He had been with Aidam earlier in the week and had ridden with them back from her family home.
“I could nay, my laird, there’s been an accident,” he said. “I ken yer at yer leisure, but it’s Aidam. He’s hurt.”
Ellie took in a sharp breath as her hand flew to her throat. No, not Aidam. Sinclair jumped from his seat. “Take me tae the lad,” he said before turning to Jemina. “Go get Mathilda.” The girl gave her father a curt nod and ran to fetch the healer.
“I’m coming with ye, my laird,” Ellie said.
“Nay, we dae nae ken what we will see, lass,” he said. “Ye best stay here, prepare Aidam’s bedchamber, and meet the healer when Jemina returns.” Sinclair was so decisive in his orders she had no choice but to comply.
She hurried from the great hall, but not before saying a small prayer that Aidam be well. She could scarcely breathe for thinking he was harmed.
