"Supper is ready, m'lady." The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy.
"I appreciate your fast work. Please have a seat." Elspeth urged Cyrus and Fraser to the table. "Since there's only one table, your guards may eat here, too, if you wish."
Cyrus was surprised, for not many ladies would welcome guards at their own table. "You wouldn't mind?"
"Of course not. They're tired and hungry. Besides, they've helped me a great deal."
Bowing, the MacKenzie guards thanked her heartily. After everyone took their seats, Morrison said grace, then the food was served. Cyrus hadn't realized how famished he was until he tasted the beef stew and warm bread.
"'Tis a delicious meal, Lady Grey. My compliments." He drank a swallow of ale.
She offered a wan smile. "I'm glad you're enjoying it."
Elspeth did not gulp down her food the way the men did, even though she had to be just as hungry. She was refined to a fault with every action, which shouldn't surprise him. Even though he'd assumed, when he'd first heard she was from a lower class, that she would have a few unsophisticated ways, 'twas not the case at all. He didn't ken why he should care. He had plenty of coarse habits himself, having grown up as a warrior in the wilds of Scotland.
He glanced at her again, seeing the wee worried crease between her bonny arched brows. Cyrus had never been one to reassure people if he did not know the outcome. Of a certainty, he would love to tell her Stillman would recover, but he didn't honestly know that. 'Haps he could use this time to find out more about her, which might help him uncover the culprit.
While Fraser and the guards talked amongst themselves, Cyrus leaned closer to Elspeth to have a more private conversation. "I understand you're a widow."
She sent him a brief glance of uncertainty. "Aye."
"When did your husband pass?"
"Just over six years ago."
He drew back in disbelief, wondering why she hadn't remarried within the long span of time. But he wouldn't ask her such a prying question. After all, he grew tired of everyone probing about when he would marry. She must have been a child bride, for she certainly didn't look old enough to have been widowed six years.
He took a sip of the gusty dark and bitter ale, then swallowed. "Do you have other male relatives who could help you?"
"Nay. My younger brother recently joined the navy. He's away at sea. And my son is only ten summers."
"Oh, you have a son?" Another surprise. Or shock might be a better word. Cyrus wondered why no one had mentioned this.
She nodded.
"Ten summers. Saints," he hissed. "You must have only been a child yourself when you had him."
She gave him a mock smile which proclaimed she knew he was prying about her age. "I was seventeen summers when he was born. I married Baron Grey on my sixteenth birthday."
"I see." Cyrus slid his gaze over her flawless skin. She certainly didn't look seven and twenty. "What's your son's name, and where is he?"
Elspeth's face brightened and her smile warmed. "His name is Adam. He's away at school in St. Andrews. Such a clever lad, and very mature for his age."
Cyrus hated to admit he envied her that. What would it be like to have a son of ten summers? He wished he already had an heir. That way, the future of the MacKenzies would be secure. He realized at times he might be jeopardizing the future of the clan by delaying siring an heir until his thirties. But he did have four younger brothers, any one of whom could step in should he meet his demise in battle or elsewhere. He made sure each of them knew how to lead the clan if necessary.
"Do you have any other children?" he asked.
Elspeth shook her head and sent him a curious glance. "Do you?"
"Nay." Cyrus could say this with near certainty. He was always most careful with his dalliances, for he wanted no bastards running about the countryside. 'Twas important to him that his first son be his legitimate heir.
Moments later, when the meal was finished, they arose from the table.
Elspeth turned to him. "Rooms are being prepared for you, Fraser, and your guards. I'll have the kitchen staff to serve an early breakfast in the morn. I'm certain you want to get back to Castle Rebbinglen as soon as possible so that you and Lady Lily can continue your courtship."
'Twas what he should want, aye, but he hated to admit Lily was the furthest topic from his mind.
"'Twill not be possible, unless we resolve all your problems this night." Leaning in, Cyrus lowered his voice. "I need to speak with you in private, away from your staff. I'm not certain I trust all of them."
