“Emma, the cook, she might ken something,” she confessed finally. “She’s up earlier than everyone else, she feeds the guardsbefore they go out every day, and sometimes she picks up a little gossip about what’s been going on in the clan.”
“Where is she now?” Ailsa asked as she started towards the door.
“The kitchen,” Martha replied, already giving up on trying to keep her away.
Ailsa took the stairs two at a time and navigated her way through the corridors as Martha did her best to keep up with her. The two of them arrived in the large kitchen, where an older woman was in the midst of kneading bread on one of the large tables.
“Och, Martha, ye’ve already had yer breakfast—” the woman began, and then her eyes widened as they landed on Ailsa.
She curtsied slightly, and Ailsa felt a flush come to her cheeks at the sudden deference. She wasn’t used to it yet, and she wasn’t sure she ever would be.
“Sorry, m’lady,” she greeted her. “Do ye… is there something I can get ye?”
“She came to ask about what happened in the village,” Martha replied, and Emma stared at her for a long moment, clearly calculating whether she should have said a word to her.
The older woman had long, gray hair that had been drawn into a braid over one shoulder. Her clothes were covered with flour, so she must have been working all day.
Ailsa couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.
“I dinnae ken if that’s something for ye to be worrying yersel’ about, m’lady.”
“I’m going to worry anyway,” she replied gently. “I just… want to know what happened in the village. Is Tavish going to be alright?”
“He’s going to be fine, m’lady,” she assured her quickly. “He’s capable of taking care of himself, make no mistake about that.”
“So what happened?” she pressed, planting her hands on the table, staring at the woman with an imploring look.
Emma cocked her head at her, a rush of sadness seeming to course through her face as she looked back at her.
“I can remember when ye used to play here wi’ Callum and that boy… Malric, was it?” she murmured. “I cannae… I never imagined that ye would be with Tavish, instead.”
“Well, I dinnae see much of him, if that helps,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood somewhat.
“Aye, he’s always out, patrolling the hills,” Emma replied, her brow furrowing. “I tell him to come in and get some rest, but he cannae. He’s too worried about something else happening.”
“Something like what?” Ailsa pressed lightly. “Like the attack on the village?”
Emma pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“He’s been having trouble wi’ the MacCairn Clan fer a while now,” she admitted. “I dinnae ken why, but Tavish, he cut ties with Malric after Callum’s death. I have no clue if he thinks he has something to do with it, or if it’s something else, but he’s been… uneasy ever since. Out patrolling on horseback, even though he has guards to take care of that for him.”
“But it doesnae seem as though the MacCairns have been taking it so well, being left out of proceedings like that,” she continues. “They’ve been causing commotion after commotion all this time. Trying to get his attention, that’s what I’d call it, and that’s what I’d wager this attack on the village is about. I doubt there’s any real malice in it, but they ken it’s the only way to get Tavish to meet wi’ them.”
An attack… just like the one that they had faced on the road. Was that for the same purpose, too?
For the first time, something twinged in her, some doubt that there could have been more to Callum’s death than the accident she had initially imagined it to be. She could not picture Malric,the little boy she had known him as at least, doing something to cause trouble in the family.
But if she had learned one thing, it was that there was more to people than she could ever have given them credit for.
She paused for a moment, leaning forward and lowering her voice.
“I ken I shouldnae speak of Callum to ye, lassie,” she remarked. “Ye… ye were engaged to him before he passed, were ye no’?”
Ailsa tensed but then nodded. There was no point trying to dodge the truth of her relationships before she had come to be married to Tavish. Everyone knew that she and Callum were to be married, and she could only imagine the gossip that had sprung up when she had taken Tavish as a husband instead. Hell, most of it had likely passed through this very kitchen, and no doubt Emma herself had heard most of it.
A flicker of curiosity showed in her eyes, perhaps sensing that she could have gotten some answers herself.
“Did ye love Callum, lass?” she asked softly.
