‘Amusing,’ Rory repeated. ‘Since you both stayed away so well, I thought it was Hamish who ordered it.’
Both girls paled. Grizel managed to shake her head, but Gormlaith looked ready to faint.
The girls’ response only confirmed what he needed to do. ‘Amusing or not, I’ll make my way so we don’t get caught...’ He gave the girls a wink before he turned to leave, but the uneasiness prevailed.
There was much wrong in Clan McCrieff and Hamish, though bedridden, was still ruling or at least people were obeying because they feared him. It wasn’t unusual for chiefs to rule when sick, but Hamish was truly ill if not dying whileFrederick commanded the clan and sat at the high table.
But that simply revealed the difficulty he found himself in. Was he to believe Hamish, who couldn’t wake, or Frederick, whom he couldn’t find, when it came to King Edward’s decree being honoured? If Hamish still ruled, then why did he feel that Frederick wasn’t ruling according to the Chief’s wishes? There was much to support this. The girls’ paling, Frederick’s proposal and then his guarding the door of the small room.
Too many questions and too much at stake, and he’d married into this. Whatever this was. It could be a folly or he could bring great fortune to Lochmores.
To Lochmores. Could he say that any more? He’d married a McCrieff. The Tanist’s daughter. He shared a night in her bed. Folly or not. Marriage consummated or not. The curiosity and intrigue he felt with Ailsa only increased with desire and need. Something he either needed to end now or be completed. But first, he would talk to her father.
In the end, it wasn’t Rory who found Frederick, but rather the old warrior who found him. Hours had passed, Rory was hungry, worried forPaiden and restless with an understanding that he been too long without Ailsa. At first, he’d wandered, believing he’d find Frederick naturally, but as the sun continued to rise, he asked his whereabouts. From some, he was given different directions from others, a narrowed gaze or a tightened jaw. He suspected this, too, had something to do with the clan differences, but what he didn’t know.
More seething frustration until he turned another corner. ‘Ah, there you are!’ Boomed Frederick as he emerged from a nondescript hut. It was neither in ill repair nor in a fine state. It also did not look like a home or a building to hold wares.
It was, however, the perfect location if a Tanist needed privacy from a dying chief, or from a new son-in-law who was from an enemy clan.
Rory waited for Frederick to walk closer. ‘Yes, here I am,’ he said, as if Frederick was truly looking for him. A lie and they both knew it. He continued the ruse for other ears by saying, ‘I apologise for not being where we agreed. I don’t know my way around yet.’
Frederick’s brow rose, a tiny gleam of relief and wariness in his eyes as he nodded. ‘The mews are not as large, I’m sure, as Lochmore’s,but they are very fine indeed. I’ll show you the way and next time, you’ll not be so lost.’
The mews. He didn’t care for birds. They were useful for small game, but too unpredictable for him to find any fascination with. He lived with enough uncertainty in his life, he didn’t need to add any more to it. Birds frustrated him, as did Frederick’s discussion of them. Rory wanted to confront the spies that kept their eyes and ears on them, not talk of birds.
He was at a disadvantage with too many unpredictable perils surrounding him. Too many dangers and Paiden had been the one to pay. Even now his friend could be drawing his last breath and he was out here being followed by two children and a man who had answers, but didn’t share them.
‘We need to talk,’ he said.
‘Your man still lives?’
Rory nodded. ‘Or we wouldn’t be talking.’
Frederick’s lips thinned, but he gave a curt nod. ‘How fares my daughter?’
‘Why do you ask me of her?’
Frederick’s gaze pierced his. ‘It was her marriage night.’
Ah. Tanist. Father. ‘You have many roles here.’
‘Not as many as some.’
Rory suspected he had more. ‘You should ask her how it went if you truly want to know.’
A flush upon his wrinkled cheeks. ‘Probably not.’
They kept their pace slow, steady, allowing many to see them. Villagers, some he recognised from earlier, greeted them. Most went about their day, but many stopped and simply watched. Rory resented their gawking, but not as much as he resented being manipulated.
He might not have had a sword to the back of his neck since he arrived, but he felt it all the same. Still, it had been his decision to marry Ailsa. There was much to gain here, but only if he did it on his terms, not the McCrieffs’ and certainly not Frederick’s.
‘Is there a reason you avoid your daughter this morning?’
A frown. ‘I did not avoid her.’
‘Then it is I whom you didn’t want to see.’
An abrupt stop as Frederick pointed. ‘Here we are.’
