Page 44 of Highland Guard

“He cares, but does he love? And if he loves, does he plan to stay? The mon has his own keep to run, the people there depending upon him. I have to stay here to care for Benet’s inheritance. ’Tis nay a simple matter of sharing a love. It ne’er was.”

“Ah, nay.” Joan frowned for a moment and then shrugged. “Then take what ye can, savor it, and revel in what ye can have now. Ye have certainly earned it.”

“’Tis what I told myself. But, the people . . .”

“Willnae care. I have told ye that but ’tis clear ye didnae heed me. Wisdom wasted. Ye are a widow, lass, and ye ken weel that foolish men believe we cannae abide being without one of them sharing our bed. ’Tis a witless belief we widows have long used to our advantage. All the world expects is for one to be discreet. Dinnae flaunt it and no one will care.”

Annys was not sure she believed that, but would consider it. She doubted she could step away from Harcourt now anyway. Not only would he not allow it, she had now had a memory replaced by fact and her body already craved more. She also knew enough widows to know that Joan spoke the truth. There was the hint of freedom in widowhood as long as a woman was discreet. The fact that everyone knew who fathered Benet actually aided her. Harcourt was an experienced lover, one she had known before through her own husband’s prodding. And she would not be surprised to discover that, since David had approved of the man, they did, too.

“I had thought I had decided but then I began to be not so decisive again but, I promise, I will try to clear away all this confusion in my head,” she told Joan.

“Fair enough,” Joan said as she joined Annys in walking down to the hall.

The evening meal was almost finished when Harcourt and the others came in. She could tell by the looks on their faces that it had been a gruesome task. A shiver went through her when she all too clearly recalled the hangings her father had made her attend.

When Harcourt sat down next to her, she briefly tensed, afraid of what people in the hall might think. A quick look around showed her that they were barely paying any attention to the fact that their lady was sitting with the man who looked so much like her son. Something inside of her breathed a huge sigh of relief. Joan was right. They did not care. It would be a long, long time before she ever admitted that to Joan though.

“It was bad?” she asked quietly.

“Aye.” Harcourt took a long drink of ale as a young boy put some platters of food near him. “Probably nay a thing to speak of during a meal.”

“Nay, although I do have a verra strong stomach. Recall what I told ye about my father and his rules.”

He frowned, angered yet again by what her father had made her do as a child. “There is one thing I wanted to ask about all that,” he said as he began to eat. “What happened to the family of the mon ye saw that day.”

“They survived,” she muttered, and turned her attention to the stewed apples she had put on her plate.

Harcourt studied her face and began to grin. “Nay with pig scraps though, aye?”

“Nay, no more pig scraps.” Then she saw by his grin that he knew exactly why that poor man’s family had survived and she sighed. “I stole the food. May have been silly but I was almost certain that my father wouldnae hang me if I was caught.”

“And are they in the village here?”

She rolled her eyes, not very pleased that he could guess what she would have done so easily. “Aye. She and all six of her children. She is Master Kenneth’s wife.”

“How did ye manage that?”

“I took a chance and sent Nigel, my newly betrothed husband, a letter. I told him about the family and why I was helping them and asked if I could bring them. E’en asked if he had any good ideas about how I could explain why they were coming with me. He wrote a letter to my father and informed him that I should come with my own maid and that he would prefer it to be a grown woman, preferably a widow. Weel, my father had no idea who was in the village unless they did something he felt he needed to hang them for so I kindly offered a suggestion, got Ilsa all cleaned up and dressed well but nay too well, and presented her to my father. He grunted and waved us out of his way so we took that as an aye and off we went. Master Kenneth took one look at Ilsa when she went to the village to see the cottage Nigel had readied for her and that was that.”

“E’en with six bairns at her skirts?”

“Ye would have to see the way Master Kenneth looks at her. He would have taken her if she had had ten bairns at her skirts.”

“And probably if she also had one in her belly,” said Joan from the other side of Annys. “I recall thinking there would be some jealousy for Master Kenneth was a fine catch as a husband but Ella, who had fancied him, told me she took one look at the way the mon looked at Ilsa and gave it all up. Said the fool would ne’er see anyone else anyway.”

“And so Ilsa and her bairns live weel in the village now. A fine ending.”

“Aye,” agreed Callum who sat across the table from Harcourt. “A verra fine ending.”

“Got better when she brought Ilsa the fruit to grow.”

“Joan,” Annys hissed but her maid ignored her.

“Annys is gifted with plants and Ilsa had skill enough to learn to tend them. She also makes some verra fine things with the fruits, too. But it helped make her enough coin that she could stay in her cottage and for Annys to cease taking the risk of stealing food.” She saw Annys scowling at her. “Ilsa told me that years ago. I was wondering why she brought those plants all the way here when she was supposed to be watching you.”

“I didnae plan that far.”

“I think ye did a lot of planning for a child,” said Harcourt. “And I thank ye ladies for the tale. It was nice to hear the good of life after seeing what we did.” He looked around and saw that most of the others were gone now.