Page 47 of Claimed Highland Brides

He went outside where the milkers were just returning from the shed, steaming buckets in hand for the kitchens. Traders were already gathered by the kitchen door with freshly baked bread and other wares for the laird’s household. Instinctively, he turned towards the stables and was in time to observe the groomsmen rubbing down all the magnificent horseflesh fresh from their morning exercise. One of the groomsmen was agitated, speaking with the head of the stables and using a lot of gesticulations.

Padraig drifted nearer trying to hear their conversation but they stopped talking as soon as they saw him, bowing deferentially. “Guid morning sir. What brings ye to the stables? D’ye require a ride?”

Padraig paused, watching the man with beady eyes, letting him sweat. Perhaps he would say something that would enlighten him on what the excitement was about. The man simply stood waiting, pursing his lips as if to stop himself from speaking.

“No, I dinnae require a ride the noo. Carry on.” He paused, watching to see what they would do, if they would continue their conversation, but they simply bowed to him and went their separate ways. Whatever was upsetting them, clearly it was an internal matter they wanted to keep hidden. Which meant that Padraig wanted to know about it. He walked towards the courtyard, gesturing for a footman to come to him. “Get me my man Dand Dubhglas. Tell him to find me here.”

He walked around, examining the various weapons on display, ready for the training which the warrior inevitably did daily. It was a relatively peaceful time but raiding parties would sometimes descend from the hills and try to make off with cattle or sheep. The men were always battle-ready.

“Aye sir, ye called frae me?”

He turned to see his head of guards standing at attention before him. “Something has occurred and I want ye tae find oot what it is.”

Dand raised an eyebrow in surprise but knew better than to ask questions. “Aye, I shall do so at once.”

He nodded to his laird and went off at once, towards the kitchens. His men didn’t really mingle with other households; after all, why make friends with people one might have to kill? But they were very good at blending in and hearing things that might not be for their ears. And Dand was the best of them.

Padraig drifted off to breakfast in the great hall. Perhaps he would see his bride-to-be there and take the time to further impress upon her his ownership of her. He had the feeling she did not yet understand that she was his.

* * *

Donnchadh looked around at the breakfast table, failing to see his firstborn niece. He was equal parts relieved and disappointed. Sooner or later she would learn that he had arrested Daividh Campbell. He both dreaded and was curious about what her reaction would be. He had a feeling it would tell him just how serious a problem he had on his hands. But she was not here even as he counted all five of her sisters at the table.

Leaning towards Ùna he affected a smile. “And where is Lady Fiona this morning?” he asked amiably.

Ùna shrugged. “Jamesina says she’s sick and doesnae want tae be disturbed. I think she must be having her menses. She usually gets quite miserable and fit to be tied.”

Donnchadh blanched, straightening up immediately. Those were certainly details he did not want to discuss. “Och weel...er, wish her the very best frae me. Someone should take her some soup perhaps?”

“Jamesina said she would. She always takes charge if Fiona’s sick.”

Donnchadh nodded quickly before turning away. He had just about enough of that conversation. Deep down, he could not help but feel relieved that whatever confrontation they might have over his actions, it was postponed to some other day.

He was surprised to look up and see Padraig headed towards their table, eyes running over the women as if looking for somebody. He stopped by the foot of the table and surveyed the suddenly quiet diners with a wolfish smile. “May I join ye this morning?”

There was a general murmur of assent though Donnchadh noted that nobody quite met Padraig’s eye. He himself lifted an eyebrow in surprise. Padraig normally began his day in the comfort of his chambers, having a small repast delivered to him there. For him to be here now was more than passing strange.

Donnchadh knew that whatever had brought Padraig to his table, the other laird would articulate it quite clearly sooner or later.

The man in question suddenly spoke up. “I dinnae see my bride. Where is she?”

“Oh uh, she’s nae feeling well.” Jamesina blushed crimson, looking flustered. Donnchadh imagined it was not easy for her to speak of Fiona’s condition with a virtual stranger.

Padraig lifted an eyebrow. “Is that so? How will she prepare for the wedding then?”

“I’m sure she’ll be feeling better quite soon,” Donnchadh cut in to spare Jamesina any more embarrassment. The girl shot him a grateful glance and he nodded in acknowledgment. He would never say so aloud but he’d always envied Murdo Douglass his girls. They all seemed so levelheaded and they loved each other so dearly. It was heartwarming to see.

He had always wondered what kind of a father he would have made. Would he have been as involved and invested in his children as Murdo had been? The man did everything for his family. When his wife had died, Donnchadh had feared for him, for a while. But it had been Murdo’s daughters that had pulled him out of the blue megrims and made him want to live again. Their love for each other had saved them. Donnchadh felt a thick coil of guilt burn through his gullet and poison his appetite. What he was doing was wrong, he knew it. But he could see no way out.

* * *

“I have nothing new to tell ye,” Aifric said without so much as looking up.

“Ye kenned I’d be back then?”

The fortune-teller shrugged. “Leddies like ye always want tae ken more’n ye should.”

“Please, mam...I beg ye. I dinnae ken wha’ tae do for the best. Ye have tae help me.”