Duncan was not fooled.She’s hiding something from me.He hoped she would confide in him, but he would not force her. “Another two hours or so, if the wind stays the same. We should be docked at Leodamas before noon. I’ll send word requesting an audience with my…” he couldn’t quite get the word out, “the nurse as soon as we arrive. With any luck we can see her this afternoon and only be forced to stay one night on the island.” He took another glance behind them, scanning the waves and seeing nothing, before turning back to her. “I don’t know how long Jamie and Lizzie will be at Inveraray, but I’d just as soon be at Castleswene waiting for them when they return.”
Jeannie tilted her head a little to look at him. “We are docking at Leod’s Harbor? I assumed we’d stay at the castle for the night.”
He shook his head. “I’d rather not avail myself of MacDonald’s hospitality any longer than necessary. In fact, I hope to avoid the chief entirely.”
“You think he will recognize you?”
Duncan nodded grimly. “Aye. My brother Jamie is well known to MacDonald—the chief also knew my father.” Though not engaged in a blood feud at the moment, relations between the Campbells and MacDonalds were always uneasy.
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t realize…”
“There’s nothing to worry about. Even if we do run into him, he’ll not break the bond of hospitality by holding me. If he sends word, we’ll be gone before anyone can arrive.” He grinned. “I’m afraid it means you’ll spend the night in a rustic alehouse or inn and not in the luxury of Dunyvaig.”
Jeannie returned his smile. “I’ve done so before.”
“I remember.”
Their eyes held for a moment. Surprisingly, the memory no longer held pain for him. Further conversation was forestalled however, by the glimpse of a sail behind them. It turned out to be nothing, but by the time they’d made sure, the wind had changed, requiring Duncan to take his turn at the oars.
As promised, two hours later they sailed into the small harbor. Once they’d secured the boat, Duncan set two of Jeanie’s guardsmen to the castle with the note from Jeannie requesting an audience with the old nursemaid—he didn’t even know his mother’s name. The rest of them located the nearest inn. Fortunately, the inn keeper was also a decent cook and they’d just finished a hearty bowl of beef stew with a hunk of the local cheese and barley bread when the guardsmen returned with their reply.
The lady would see them.
Duncan arranged for horses and not long afterward, he, Jeannie, and the two Gordon guardsmen were riding up the hill through the landward gate of Dunyvaig Castle, or Dun Naomhaig as it was known in the Highlands.
The castle, once a stronghold of the Lords of the Isles, was situated high on a rocky promontory along the eastern edge of the Bay of Lagavulin, overlooking the sound and, on a clear day, the coast of Kintyre.
It was an impressive fortress with a seven-sided walled enclosure, encompassing the entire hill. The castle was two levels—the sea gate and outer courtyard below, the tower keep and inner courtyard above—joined by stairs. A large bastion overlooked the bay, giving the guardsmen clear warning to all who approached.
Duncan had ordered Leif, Conall, and the other guardsmen to stay outside the gates to keep watch of any messengers coming or going from the castle. If something went wrong, he’d rather have his men safe on the outside where they could help.
While Jeannie’s guardsmen waited outside, they were led into the great hall, located on the second floor of the tower keep. Jeannie sat in a chair before the fireplace. Duncan stood behind her.
He was too restless to do otherwise. For years he’d refused to think about the woman who’d abandoned him, but now that the moment when he would meet her was upon him, he couldn’t deny the increased pounding in his chest or the anxiety building in his stomach.
Sensing his tension, Jeannie put her hand on his and gave it an encouraging squeeze.
At that moment the door opened. Jeannie stood, and Duncan went completely still as the woman walked into the room.
She was small and thin to the point of frailty, with snow-white hair partially visible beneath the black velvet French hood popular with the prior generation when Mary had been queen of the Scots. Her skin was as wrinkled as a dried apple.
She had to be at least seventy years—far too old to be his mother. Some of the tension dissipated. But why had the nurse—his mother—not come?
The old woman had focused on Jeannie, but eventually her eyes lifted to him. Her skin grew sickly pale and her eyes widened in shock, as if she’d seen a ghost. She wobbled a little and both he and Jeannie reached out to steady her.
She didn’t faint, but they carefully lowered her to the chair. Jeannie retrieved a fan she carried in the purse at her waist, the heat from the fire making the room warm and stuffy. The woman appeared too overcome by emotion to speak.
“I apologize,” Jeannie said. “We didn’t mean to cause you any distress.”
The old woman shook her head and seemed to collect her senses. She stared at Duncan. “You’ve the look of him—and her. She had the blackest hair, like a raven’s wing they said. With eyes as blue as the Irish Sea.”
Duncan’s stomach sank. He hadn’t missed her usage of the past tense.
“There appears to be some misunderstanding, my lady. We were here to see the chief’s old nursemaid.”
“Forgive me, Lady Gordon,” the woman said. “I am Mary MacDonald. Sister to the old chief, aunt to the present. It was I who received your note. I’m afraid you can’t see, Kathrine.” She gave Duncan an apologetic look. “She died, ten years passed now.”
It was what Duncan expected, but it didn’t stop him from feeling as if he’d just taken a blow to the chest. He’d never wanted to know his mother, but to know that he couldn’t was surprisingly difficult to hear.Kathrine.It was the first time he’d ever heard her name.
