Page 51 of Highlander’s Haunted Past

“What do ye mean?” Kenna asked, noting out of the corner of her eye that Ellen had stopped admiring her dress to cast Kenna a suspicious glance.

“I only mean that the other night, before Rob left, I may have been walking past yer room and overheard some… things… and, well, I just hope that I’ll be an auntie in a few months.”

Kenna’s face grew hotter than the fire in Ellen’s hearth. “I—I—”

Florence rushed forward and sat on Kenna’s lap, throwing her arms around her neck.

“Oh, silly Kenna, no need to be embarrassed. ‘Tis only life and love and marriage that we are talking about here. ‘Tis all so perfectly normal; I do not understand why we have been told to get so red in the face when we talk about such things.”

“‘Tis a conspiracy against us,” Kenna said, hoping that the subject would be changed.

There would be no babe in a few months. The Queen had inadvertently seen to that by stopping them before the act could be completed. For the past few days, she had been trying to figure out what would happen if Rob never returned from Strathbogie. She tried to look deep into her emotions to figure out how she would feel if her time with him was over, even though she had just started to truly care for him. If she had accepted him sooner, put aside her pride and begged him sooner, she could have already been with child. His child. Then they would have been bound by a tie that was stronger than everything, even death.

“So, ye two are getting along well, in that regard?” Ellen asked in a voice so hushed that it was barely louder than a whisper.

“I suppose,” Kenna replied, feeling her flush rise once more to her cheeks.

“‘Tis only that I had heard, well, never mind.”

“No, Ellen, what did ye hear?” Florence pressed, leaning toward Ellen with her lips pressed into a pout. Florence was always the first to denounce gossip and the first to participate in it.

Ellen picked her needlework back up and began to furiously prod the needle into the fabric. “I just heard that Rob and Kenna, when they were on the road, weren’t, well, ye ken, behaving as man and wife.”

“I wasn’t aware that people were so keen on listening to what Rob and I were or were not doing.” Kenna stiffened, her embarrassment now becoming anger.

Who had been going so far as to listen to them? Rob had always taken care to set their tent far from the others just so that the sounds of their arguments, and then the silence that followed for the rest of the night, wouldn’t be heard. Of course, this plan was easily dashed by any who decided they wanted to go out of their way to try and hear something.

“Regardless of what ye heard, or what others, apparently, did not hear, Rob and I are fine.”

“Goodness, Ellen, ye’ve gotten her all worked up.”

“I am glad to hear that everything with ye and Rob is as it should be, Kenna, and I apologize if the comment was misplaced.”

Florence began to chastise Ellen for spreading rumors that would undermine the budding relationship while Kenna leaned back in the overstuffed chair and studied Ellen’s face. It was as impassive as always, a cool steel only touched by perfectly placed false emotions.

It had to be Hugh, Kenna thought. Who else would have both taken the time to press their ear to our tent and then report it back to Ellen?

“All I am saying, Ellen, is that it is unfair to push Kenna for such intimate details when no one else is offering any to the conversation,” Florence was saying, wagging her finger at Ellen. “Ye simply canna just put someone on the spot in such a way in high society.”

“Ye might feel free to offer something personal, then. Soothe dear Kenna with a few intimate details from yer own life,” Ellen replied through gritted teeth, blatantly displeased at what Florence was implying about her birth and manners.

“Oh! We could make a game of it!” Florence said giddily, her anger diffused by the sudden option of entertainment. “We can all ask each other those questions that no one else would dare ask us. Ellen, ye went first by asking Kenna about her and Rob’s relationship in the marital bed, so now ye must ask me something.”

“I do not have a question fer ye at the ready,” Ellen replied.

“Come on. Just ask me the first thing that comes to mind; I am an open book.”

“Exactly. What does one ask an open book that hasn’t already been told a thousand times,” Ellen commented with a sly grin.

It was said playfully, but Kenna detected a bit of Florence’s prior anger still lingering beneath the surface

“Fine, then ye answer one of Kenna’s questions, Ellen.”

“Surely, Kenna has nothing to ask me.”

“Actually,” Kenna said, “I am curious to hear the story of how ye and Hugh began yer relationship. I have heard that ‘tis quite an unusual tale, but I am yet to hear it in full.”

And then maybe ye’ll let something slip about why ye and Hugh are so interested in details that ought not to interest ye, Kenna added to herself.