Those in the tavern who had been so eager to cheer on their favorites fell silent and quickly found their seats and their cups. Their raucous cheers died down to low chatter now that the excitement was over.
The barkeep and the blonde barmaid rushed to the upturned table. While the maid collected the broken pieces, the barkeep set the table on its legs. Then he scuttled off, leaving the barmaid to clean the rest of the mess.
Reade flipped two more coins to her for her troubles before slapping Roy on his back.
“Come, lads. ‘Twill no’ do us any good searching for Sawny here.”
After making plans for another round of searching with Roy later in the week, Reade and Maddock parted ways with the Keppoch MacDonald and made their way home in the damp gloaming. When they entered the keep, Fiona, who had been reading near the hearth, removed her glasses and set them by her Shakespeare folio.
From the slow, measured way she placed them aside, Maddock braced himself for what his wife was to say next.
Fiona did not speak, at first. She rose from her chair and approached them, surveying them from head to toe. Her only reaction was a slight moue of disappointment when she noted the bruise on Maddock’s cheek and Reade’s abraded knuckles.
“What had gotten into ye?” she asked in a breathless tone.
Maddock had the wisdom to look abashed.
“I dinna –” he started, but his words were cut off when she lifted her hand. Her fierce blue eyes burned with irritation.
“I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hacked,” she intoned. Yet another Shakespeare reference, but Maddock could not place the line. Her discontented moue increased. “From MacBeth. When he is near his end and would rather suffer the pain and indignity of a fight he canna win rather than submit. Surely ye realized that ye are doing naught but drawing out Adaira’s pain with your actions?”
Now both Reade and Maddock appeared abashed. Fiona’s indignant look and chastising words pained them both as they dropped their chins to their chests. Their focus had been on finding the wayward betrothed and making him pay for aggrieving their sister so, and they had not considered what effect their actions might have on the very sister they were trying to avenge.
“How is she?” Maddock finally asked.
It was a question they should have asked sooner.
“Blair and your mother are with her now. She actually came downstairs again, but ‘twas no’ for as long as we hoped.”
Reade stiffened. “Why? What happened?”
Fiona flipped her blonde hair, unbound for the night, from her eyes. “She can tell that everyone walks on tiptoes around her, afraid to say the wrong thing. She knows that she is the center of gossip in the Highlands.”
“Is it truly that bad? Are our actions making her worse?”
Fiona pursed her lips and shrugged. “Ye are no’ making her better. Instead, ye should focus on helping her forget the object of her sorrow rather than keep the idea of Sawny at the center of your lives. We have so much going on, do ye no’ think ‘tis time to leave Sawny to wherever he might be and help your sister recover from her heartache?”
Reade and Maddock shared a shamed look. Aye, perchance it was time to forget the search for the lad and focus on helping their sister.
Maddock rubbed his hand against his bruised cheek and gave his wife a thin smile. For all his humorous quips and easy manner, his body felt tight at the realization that their efforts might have been misplaced. Instead of searching for the man, they should have been home with Adaira, supporting her in her moment of grief and keeping the sniffing dogs who wanted to woo her away. He slapped the back of his hand against Reade’s wide chest.
“Come, let us attend to Adaira. Mayhap we won’t get our arses handed to us a second time by your wife or Mother.”
Reade rolled his eyes. “Doubtful.” Then he bowed politely to his brother’s wife. “Thank ye, Fiona, for helping us to remember what is truly important in this situation.”
He turned and headed for the stairs. Maddock fixed his gaze upon his sage wife.
“Ye have spoken with wisdom once again, my love.” He held his arm out to her, and she threaded her slender arm through his. “Is it too soon to find another romantic interest for her? My father will want to form another alliance quickly, given the present state of the Highlands.”
Fiona moved toward the stairs, bringing Maddock with her. “A wee bit too soon. But unfortunately for her, she is the daughter of a chieftain and granddaughter of a laird, and that choice may well be out of her hands. But mark my words, as Lysander once said,the course of true love never did run smooth, and I pity the man who might be tied to her after Sawny. Her heart will take a long time to recover, and she may no’ love another man in the same manner that she loved him.”
Maddock sighed as they reached the stairs. “Well, let us hope that we can help her to overcome that dismal prophecy and find her smile again.”
Chapter Sixteen
Maddockwasinthestables, brushing down Luath in wide sweeps with a hoar-hair brush. The bored horse flipped his tail to and fro, flicking away any flying bug that tried to get too close.
The early summer sun had finally pushed past the morning gray, and a light film of sweat coated him as he worked.
