Page 251 of Wicked Highland Heroes

Talbot rolled his sleeve back down. “You knew my mother.”

A sad light entered her eyes. “She was my daughter.”

* * *

From her seat at the window in her private solar, Rhoslyn watched the village, and the riders St. Claire spoke with.

“I dinna’ want to look at the accounts,” Lady Saraid complained.

“Ye will someday be glad you learned these things,” Rhoslyn said without taking her eyes off St. Claire. “Your father will no’ be pleased if ye neglect your duty while here at Castle Glenbarr.”

“My father is unfair,” the girl complained.

If life was fair, her grandfather wouldn’t be still lying unconscious in her bed. They fed him broth and wine. Muira refused to allow Rhoslyn to clean him. The housekeeper herself took care of him. Rhoslyn would never be able to repay her kindness.

“Can we not do something else for a while?” Saraid asked.

Rhoslyn squinted in an effort to make out the face of the lady talking with St. Claire. “Your father wants to make sure ye are ready to run your own household.”

And he had woefully neglected his duty. He’d let the girl run wild, and now she didn’t want to be broken. He’d gotten down on his knees and begged Rhoslyn to take her for six months. She’d not committed at first, but the baron kept sending gift after gift with a plea to help him. Rhoslyn hadn’t seen her since she was eight, and was shocked to find she was more boy than girl. Getting her into a proper dress had been a feat.

The knight to the woman’s left got off his horse and assisted her from the saddle. Ross returned and he, the woman, and St. Claire began walking. Who was the woman? Frustration swept through Rhoslyn.

“I canna’ do this,” Saraid whined.

Rhoslyn glanced at the paper. “‘Tis simple addition. Take your time.”

Ross, the woman and St. Claire disappeared from view between cottages and didn’t reappear in any of lanes Rhoslyn could see. What were they doing?

The door to her chambers opened and Mistress Muira entered.

“Has something happened?” Rhoslyn demanded.

“Nay, my lady. I am only getting fresh water to change the bandage. Your grandfather is breathing well. Nothing has changed.”

Rhoslyn nodded and released a sigh. Seven days. He wasn’t dead. But neither had he woken. St. Claire had mentioned nothing concerning his search for his attackers. She had avoided him these last few days, feigning sleep when he came to bed, sleeping on the large bed as far from him as possible. Still, he would have surely sought her out if he’d found out anything? He’d promised her the attacker’s head.

Dayton had to be behind the attack. Couldn’t St. Claire see that? She wondered if he had any clues at all to his brother’s whereabouts. Fear pricked. What if St. Claire couldn’t find him? What if he someday claimed her child as his? What if he was the child’s father?

St. Claire had claimed the child. He wouldn’t change his mind would he? Her gaze caught on Ross, who stepped out onto the lane and headed toward the cottage he and St. Claire had been working on before the woman’s arrival. Who was the woman? Alec would never had entertained guests without her. What was St. Claire up to? He’d said nothing about meeting with a woman. But St. Claire had made it clear he didn’t feel he needed to inform her of his business. What business could he possibly have with a woman?

* * *

“Forgive me, my lady,” Talbot said. “My mother is dead.”

She seemed to slump in her chair. “Yes. Twenty years past. She died of a fever.”

He shook his head. “Nay, she died giving birth to my sister.”

Her eyes focused on him. “Is that what your father told you?”

“It is the truth,” he said.

She reached into a small pouch strapped to her belt and removed a scallop shell. She set it on the table, then produced a small velvet bag from the bag and met his gaze directly. “I am Lady Taresa Baliman, wife of Cailin Kenzie, the Earl of Baliman. I met him in Galicia when he made a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.”

She pushed the scallop shell toward him. “He gave me this badge to always remind me that God blessed him on his pilgrimage. He married me and brought me here to Buchan. We had a daughter, Lady Peigi Baliman.”

Lady Taresa pulled the string on the velvet bag and, almost reverently, withdrew the contents. Talbot understood her care. She held a miniature painting on wood. She set the picture before him.