Which led to the next troubling thought. Who would attempt to murder her husband’s friend and the Chief? There was no connection between a Lochmore and a McCrieff who did not know each other.
Having nodded to the guards in the courtyard, Ailsa quietly closed the door. The first obstacle had been met because they assumed she had the right to be here. The second obstacle for today was privacy. An open door would make the roommore comfortable with light and fresh warm air, but she couldn’t risk it.
She needed to be left alone for there was more than herbal remedies and tinctures in this room. Here was the reason the chapel wanted possession of the documents: here were official clan announcements, including important births.
She shouldn’t look, didn’t have the right. If what she guessed was correct, what would it prove?
If such a thing had occurred, she couldn’t imagine it being written down. Though if Hamish had had a child, it would be claimed because Hamish never wanted her father to rule. If the child was born secretly, then the mother hadn’t claimed Hamish as the father. Thus, again, there would be no point in writing the birthing down, let alone that the child was given away.
Still, she needed to see. Too much depended upon Rory’s lineage not to.
Ailsa reached for the first flat satchel containing various parchments and unwound the package. Inside was a bound cartulary regarding the building and upkeep of McCrieff Castle. She carefully placed it back on the shelf.
She grabbed the one next to it—this book was on the parish. That, too, she returned. Hereyes roved the shelves. There were other satchels, some bulky, most likely containing scrolls versus books.
None of it was in order. Church lists, with flecks of brittle parchment in pieces too small to read. Still precious enough that she didn’t dare just toss it to the side. She could ask for help. There were others here who knew the documents, could probably guess by sight which she needed, but she felt this was something she needed to do herself.
Hours later and Ailsa stretched her arms and back. She’d stopped long ago placing the cartularies back on the shelves. At one point, she thought she’d organise it. Now the room was untidy. Some books hadn’t made it back to the satchels, nor some scrolls, and she stood back and surveyed the room. As the time crept on, she’d become impatient. To think to organise it was madness. For now she was tired and carnage laid at her feet.
She was also no closer to the truth. She’d hoped that she could discover something of import on her own. There was a part of her that purposefully felt she’d been kept in the dark. Her father overly protective, Hamish controlling,Rhona reluctantly sharing her remedies and hiding secrets until her deathbed.
The records of her birth she found, as for—
‘I thought you’d be in Hamish’s room,’ Rory said.
Ailsa started at the sound of his voice and the closing of the door. She turned to face him. ‘I left.’
Gazing roughly around the room, Rory stepped forward.
She raised her hand. ‘Wait. The documents are scattered.’
‘I can see that. Why?’
‘I was...organising records.’
He’d changed since she saw him last. His clothes different, his hair a bit damp, but it wasn’t simply his physical appearance.
He’d strode from their bedroom full of outrage. She’d expected Rory to return within moments with something from the kitchens and news of a confrontation with her father. Instead, hours later there was a predatory stillness about him.
Shadows played havoc here and she shouldn’t be able to see everything about him so clearly, yet she did. His dark brown hair was loose and framed his unshaven jaw. The bristles there darkening and casting him further in shadows. Hiseyes just a shade lighter held some burning emotion that shifted too quickly for her to discern. She wanted to say frustration, but it was held back, simmering too hotly for that emotion.
Nothing of this moment could she fully understand. All she knew with certainty was that he sought her out and found her here...alone.
‘Did you find my father?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t get you food.’
‘I didn’t expect you to.’ She swallowed. ‘Did he have much to say?’
‘What makes you believe I found him.’
That stopped her. ‘You said you’d find him. There’s been some time since then, so I thought perhaps you had.’
‘And you believe I’d do as I’d say?’
What was going on here? So much more under the surface with this man, but what, she didn’t know. She’d wed him though they approached their marriage differently. She, trying to protect her people; he, trying to secure the lands owed to his clan. Then she’d laid with him, bared her body and he had rejected her.
They were strangers with mistrust between them, but still she’d undressed before him, still allowed him in her bed. Accepted his kisses, his touch...and thewayhe touched. Yet now,she couldn’t understand what he meant then by ‘This is what was meant to be’?
