She closed her eyes, lifting her chin as she was wont to do, an irritating habit that reminded him of an animal sniffing the air for scent. When she opened her eyes, she shook her head, a confused furrow forming on her brow.
Interesting. She’d obviously seen nothing of this in her visions, so it was likely the Norns had woven no outcome yet. He was free to do as he pleased.
He hurried her along, knowing full well she had trouble keeping up with his longer stride. At another time he might have walked even faster, but he needed her fresh at dinner. He wanted to observe Danielle’s interactions with her husband’s sister. Often, in the beginning at least, he learned more by watching than by asking.
He chose to forgo his regular spot on the dais, seating Christiana at one of the smaller tables instead. He wanted a more intimate experience. He wanted to be able to hear all conversations. He wanted to watch Danielle’s eyes as she experienced the evening.
A word to his captain and the hall was cleared of all people and guards set at all the entrances. There would be no distractions. The scores of hangers-on who devoured his food at every meal would have to find someplace else to feed their faces this day.
All was in readiness with only moments to spare. Danielle, followed by her traveling companion, entered the hall, their arms loaded down with three small bags each.
The homage he’d demanded?
Even with her arms filled, she moved with the grace of a special being. He waited while they stacked the bags on the nearest table and then led them to their seats.
He made sure he sat directly across from Danielle with Christiana at his side. All the better to observe.
With an uplifted hand, he signaled for the courses to begin, waiting for everyone to be served before he made introductions.
“Have you any idea who our guests are, dear sister?” He watched Christiana closely for any reaction. “This is Danielle, Malcolm’s wife, and her traveling companion.”
He wasn’t disappointed.
Christiana’s hand paused midway to her mouth, her eyes darting up to the other woman and back to her food again. It occurred quickly, but he’d seen it because he’d been looking for it. Surprise like that was impossible to hide.
“Welcome to Tordenet Castle, ladies.”
“And you must be Christiana. Malcolm has spoken of you.”
Tensions ran thick at the table, inhibiting conversation. That could work to his advantage if he used it properly. He lifted his hand again and maids rushed to fill all the goblets with his favorite mead.
He timed his next round of questions to coincide with the beginning of the second course. After two cups of the mead, he expected tongues would begin to loosen.
“Tell me of yer family, Danielle. How did my brother come to wed you?”
“I arranged for Danielle and Malcolm to be together.”
The companion, an older woman whose name he’d instantly forgotten, smiled cheerily at him, lifting her cup for another refill. His look must have reflected as much.
“Surely you realize that I’m Isabella’s mother. No?” She took a sip, her smile even brighter than before. “Marrying my Isabella is what made Malcolm laird of the MacGahan. And with my Isa gone, I felt the lad needed a good wife to see that Castle MacGahan was well cared for. I found Danielle for him and the rest is, as they say, history.”
With all her blethering, the woman must have enjoyed his mead overmuch.
“When will you release my husband?”
Dani’s question seemed to spring from nowhere, catching him off guard. He waited to answer her until after the next course of food had been served.
“Begging yer pardon, my good woman, but it feels a wee bit presumptuous to be speaking of Malcolm’s release when we’ve yet to discuss the details of either his homage or his oath of fealty, does it no?”
“In that case, let’s go ahead and discuss the money. I’ll be more than happy to turn it over to you just as soon as I see Malcolm. To verify he’s unharmed, you understand.”
He had no intention of allowing her to see Malcolm. Not yet, at least. That move did not yet suit his needs.
“I fear that’s not possible.”
“Will you be serving anything other than fish at this meal?” The mother-in-law frowned at her plate and then at him. “Any fruit or vegetables of any sort?”
As if he had anything to do with what came from the kitchens!
