Uncle Fergus ran his hand through his hair, disheveling it. “After Fredella and I got back from the village, I walked her to her lady’s chamber. We found the poor girl so upset, she could hardly speak. ThatgowkPercival’s told Eleanor that they’re not to speak to us again. Did thatgomeraltell you not to speak to her anymore, too?”
“No, he said nothing of that to me,” Riona answered.
“That disgusting bit o’ dung also told Eleanor that if she can’t get Sir Nicholas to marry her, he’ll pack her off to a convent in some desolate spot and leave her there—and he’d do it, too, the bloody great idiot. Can he not see the poor girl hasn’t got a chance and all his threats won’t make a wee bit of difference?”
Riona didn’t share her uncle’s opinion about Eleanor’s chances. Indeed, the only woman in Dunkeathe who had no chance to marry Sir Nicholas was standing right before him. And if marrying the Norman knight got Eleanor free of her cousin, things could be worse. “Uncle, I don’t think Sir Nicholas is going to choose me, but Eleanor may have a chance. If I left Dunkeathe—”
Uncle Fergus stared at her incredulously. “Poor Eleanor may be a sweet lass, but she’s no competition for you, Riona. Of course he’s going to pick you. He’s no fool—not like that oaf Percival.” Uncle Fergus shook his head. “No, no, we have tocome up with a way to make Percival think twice about sending her away when Sir Nicholas doesn’t pick her. Aye, and parting her from Fredella.”
Clearly Uncle Fergus was determined to cling to the notion that she could win Sir Nicholas’s hand in marriage. Rather than persist when he was so upset, she would set aside her own troubles until later.
“Perhaps you should go to Sir Nicholas and tell him about this,” she suggested. “As a knight, he’s sworn to protect women.”
“Aye, that he is, but if I go to Sir Nicholas and that snake gets wind of it, I’m sure he’ll take it out on Eleanor somehow once they leave Dunkeathe—and he’s got the right to do what he likes with her because he’s her guardian, the great daft git!”
“Then what do you think we ought to do?”
“ I know what I’d like to do—get him alone in a room, just me and myclaimh mhor,”Uncle Fergus declared, swinging an imaginary sword. “I’d fix his hair for him, and more than that, too. I was all for going to the brute at once, but that only made the women cry harder. They seem to think that bastard’s somebody I ought to fear.” Uncle Fergus snorted with disgust. “As if any Scot in his right mind would be afraid of that dandy!”
“He’s probably been well taught how to use a sword and dagger,” Riona cautioned. “And he’ll be a dirty fighter.”
That gave Uncle Fergus pause—a very short one. “Aye, he would be at that—but that’s no reason I shouldn’t call the bastard out.”
Riona rose and went to her uncle, putting her arm around his shoulder. “Uncle, think how Fredella and Eleanor and I would feel if anything happened to you. And Kenneth and everyone at home.”
He cocked his head and gave her a suspicious look. “I’m no coward, Riona. That stinkinggomeralmight be able to frighten women, but if he thinks he can frightenme—”
“Nobody doubts your bravery, Uncle, or your chivalry. I know you want to help Eleanor, but you can’t do that if you’re hurt. And if you should kill Percival, the Normans might not understand and there could be a trial and all sorts of trouble. We should think of some other way to protect Eleanor.”
Which meant she had to stay in Dunkeathe. She couldn’t leave Uncle Fergus here alone, lest a messenger come riding into Glencleith with the news that her uncle had attacked Sir Percival and now was either dead, or imprisoned.
Uncle Fergus sat back down on the bed and patted the place beside him. “So, my wise and clever lass, what do you think we should do?”
“While Eleanor is here, she’s safe,” Riona said, thinking aloud as she joined him.
“Aye.”
“And she’ll be safe until Sir Nicholas makes his choice.”
“Aye.”
“So the problem becomes what to do after Sir Nicholas makes his choice.”
As if she’d summoned him, the man himself suddenly strode into the chamber. Riona swiftly got to her feet while he studied her as if trying to read her mind.
“You weren’t in the hall for the evening meal. Why not?”
With any other man, she might have thought he was concerned about her, but he asked the question so forcefully, he must have taken her absence as a personal insult—more evidence of his vain pride.
So she felt no need to be particularly polite as she answered. “I was here waiting for my uncle.”
“You’re not…You’re well?” he asked less brusquely, his shoulders relaxing a very little.
“Obviously.”
Sir Nicholas turned his steadfast, dark-eyed gaze onto Uncle Fergus. “And you are well?”
Riona put her hand on Uncle Fergus’s arm, hoping he would let her answer. “We were otherwise engaged, my lord. A personal matter. Isn’t that so, Uncle?”
