She would say no to any other who carried her grandfather’s bidding. Likely the laird understood this and sent the lad to ensure her compliance.
Before someone had decided Jamie was old enough to make the trek from the castle on his own, he’d accompanied his grandmother, Auld Annie. This in itself was something Isa had planned to bring to his grandmother’s attention the next time she spoke to her. The lad still seemed awfully small to be sent out alone on such a long trip.
“Please come, Isa.” His voice quivered and he turned wide eyes to her before jerking his head away, keeping his face turned from her in a manner that broke her heart. “Master Roland says I’ll have a beating if I dinna bring you in front of the laird today.”
“Master Roland says that, does he?”
Isa felt her temper spike anew. Roland Lardiner, her grandfather’s right hand and a distant cousin to her own father, overstepped his bounds with a threat such as that. It wouldn’t surprise her one little bit to learn that weasel of man was behind the decision to start sending this wee child off on his own. She didn’t trust Roland and, worse, didn’t doubt for one moment he’d do exactly as he threatened if she didn’t return with Jamie.
“Very well,” she sighed, opening the door to allow the boy inside as thunder rumbled threateningly through the valley. “Sit yerself down by the fire while I prepare meself. Are you hungry?”
As if she needed to ask. The child was always starved. If she were ever blessed with such a son, he’d never go hungry. She’d see to that.
She pushed away the silly thought. A child of her own was naught but a dream, destined never to come to pass.
She poured a glass of milk fresh from this morning and set it in front of him, along with a large hunk of bread and piece of cheese. He smiled up at her, forgetting for a moment to shield his face from her.
The ugly burn scar marring the entire right side of Jamie’s rosy face all but closed off the vision in his eye.
How could anyone treat a child so ill, especially a child who had suffered as much as this one had in his short life?
As if she needed to ask that question. They were men of the MacGahan, after all. Men so unlike her own father had been it was hard to accept her birthright to the clan.
She turned from the boy, yanking the ties from her hair and pulling it from its neat braid. A crazed woman would never take such care with her appearance. Free of their binding, her curls sprang wild, covering her face and spreading about her shoulders like a bright cape.
The mess dried on her hands and arms itched and pulled at her skin, but it would be best to leave it rather than clean it off. It suited her purpose all too well.
Still not quite enough, though.
She marched over to the fireplace, lifting a double handful of cooled ashes from the metal bucket she kept there. After sprinkling them into her hair, she wiped her hands over her face and turned to Jamie.
“Well? How do I look?”
“As you always do when you go to them,” he responded around a mouthful. “Mayhap even worse than most times.”
“Good. Slow yerself down there, lad,” she cautioned as the boy stuffed another large bite into his already stuffed mouth. “We’ve no a need for you to rush through yer food. I’m no of a mind to leave until yer completely finished.”
“Is there time for me to visit the goats?”
His little face was so bright with expectation, how could she possibly deny him the boon he sought? “Aye. But only for a little while. And dinna forget to close the gate as you did the last time.” It had taken an hour to herd the animals back into their pen after his last visit.
“I’ll remember. Thanks be to you, Mistress Isa, for the food and for coming back with me.” Jamie nodded his pleasure, a smile curving the side of his mouth that could still move.
As if she’d send him back alone. No, she’d respond to her grandfather’s summons. It was rare indeed for him to request her presence at the castle, and she was, after all, as curious as the next person.
Besides, it was well past time she had a chat with Cousin Roland. A chat she intended him to remember for a good long while.
Chapter 6
Robert kept to the shadows, leaning against a pillar at the back of the smoky hall. The great fires on either side of the enormous room barely seemed to cut through the damp chill brought on by the constant spring rains he’d encountered in this area.
Though he’d ridden hard for the last two days in his rush to reach Castle MacGahan, Robert saw this delay as providence. It suited his needs to wait for an audience with the MacGahan laird. It gave him an opportunity to study the people around him. An opportunity to assess the MacGahan strengths and weaknesses. An opportunity to listen for any mention of Isabella.
It also provided time to learn about the troubles of the clan before he broached his business with the laird. And troubles aplenty there seemed to be, if the grumbling of the servants was any measure to judge by.
The bawdy noise coming from the table of armed men at the front of the hall didn’t bode well, either. The servants obviously felt the same way, darting in to refill the men’s mugs before dashing away a prudent distance.
Robert had seen their ilk often enough to recognize them for what they were. Hardened warriors, dirty from the trail, here with an obvious purpose. They milled around their leader like bees buzzing around their queen. Violence held at bay emanated from the men in waves he could feel even from this distance.
