Indeed, he sensed Father wanted to speak to him about the matter—rather than discuss it with him, for when had Father ever done that? Even his marriage to Annista had been thrust upon him. But as soon as the two men left, Mother came rushing into the hall, just as if she’d been awaiting the opportunity.
What she told them turned Alan’s stomach.
Father’s face, as he listened, paled to ashen.
“By God!” he exclaimed when Mother finished pouring out all the farmer, Duncan had related. “Where is this to end? No great harm was done?”
“There is the injury to Duncan’s son—”
“Aye, but thanks be to heaven the lad was no’ killed.” Father sounded like a man searching for grains amid the chaff. “And the hay byre—”
“Did no’ burn down.”
For once, Alan thought, the unstinting rain proved a benefit.
“And no one saw where Evan went?” Father asked in disbelief.
Mother shook her head miserably. “I told Duncan we would pay for the physician—”
“To be sure. And compensate him for any other losses. He is a fine tenant.” Father’s face wrinkled in distress. “I regret this has happened to him.”
Aye, they all regretted it. What good did that do?
Alan grunted and Father looked at him. “What to do now? Evan could be anywhere. Granted, we ha’ searched, but there are hundreds of places he can hide, and he might well circle back to where we ha’ already searched.”
“True.” Father’s gaze flicked over Alan. “And ye need rest, being injured and all. I will mysel’ go back out wi’ a number o’ the servants. Alan, ye stay here to keep watch o’er the household while I am gone.”
Mother immediately began to fret. “But, husband, ’tis raining and growing dark. Wha’ do ye expect to find?”
“Wife, I canna reconcile my conscience if I fail to search and our son commits some further act o’ harm.”
“Aye, so,” she conceded. “But ye maun sup first. Ye ha’ taken almost naught today.”
“I will tak’ a mug and a bite before I ride out. Ha’ the lass prepare somewhat. And son—” he turned his gaze on Alan, “I am relying on ye.”
He did not mean just in staying back to guard the manor. The sickness in Alan’s gut stirred.
He left the hall while Mother still fussed over Father, wondering where his wife might be. Yet lingering in the solar? He climbed the stairs, catching sight of two figures standing very close together, farther down the gallery outside Annista’s chamber.
A man and a woman they were, and his heart thumped hard. The man had his head bent toward the woman attentively, almost tenderly. Abruptly, Alan recognized them. Seumas, it was—and Annista’s little maid, Bonnie.
Well!
Before he could assimilate that, the door to the solar inched open and Annista hissed at him.
“Sss—here!”
A curious enough way for her to behave, and it became more so, for when he approached the door she reached out, seized the front of his doublet, and hauled him in.
Her eyes fixed immediately on his, glowing.
“Wha’ is going on? Tell me.”
Alan might have stepped away and freed himself from her grasp, but he found he did not wish to. He liked the feel of her hands on him.
“Father is going out again searching for Evan, with some of the servants. Our neighbor, Duncan—”
“I heard that part. I was here wi’ your mother when the man arrived.”
