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“
Aye, I ken it is true. She was justified in it, but Lady Elspeth definitely killed that Laird. Ruthven.”
“I heard that he was a verra wicked man. Likely got exactly whit he deserved.”
“Was he also no’ Lady Florence’s true father?”
“Aye, I have heard that as well. Imagine, killing the da o’ yer own child.”
“He killed her father first. Ye cannae blame her for seeking revenge.”
“Then why lie wi’ the man in the first place…?”
Florence pushed away from the wall she had been leaning against and started walking back down the hallway and away from the kitchen doorway. She had heard enough. She had not meant to eavesdrop, but as she had approached the kitchen to ask the cook about that evening’s dinner, she had heard a group of the kitchen maids speaking and had paused when she had heard her mother’s name. Such rumors were not new to her. Since she had been a girl, she had heard various versions of such gossip, and while it had infuriated her as a child, it did not spark such outrage anymore.
Just curiosity.
Making her way back upstairs to the main floor, she tried to push the maids’ words from her head, but they lingered in her mind, tempting her to distraction.
Reaching the first floor of the manor, she decided to gather her drawing materials and go out to the garden to work and clear her head. She started down a hallway to get to the stairs to go up to her room, but a door suddenly opened just ahead of her and she stopped.
Her da stepped out into the hallway and glanced around, his gaze falling on her. A smile immediately curled his lips.
“Ah, there is my sweet lass,” he said, shutting the door and walking toward her. “Where are ye off tae, sweetheart?” His silver beard was trimmed and neat, and his hazel eyes sparkled as he drew near. His skin was tanned from so many hours spent working and training in the sun, which was a stark contrast to Florence’s pale appearance. Her brothers look so much like their da, but she was the spitting image of her ma…save for her raven-black hair.
That, she suspected, came from the man who had fathered her…though no one had ever confirmed that to be true.
Florence grinned back at Laird McIntewar and replied, “I was just going tae draw in the garden, Da.”
“Oh, that sounds like a verra good way tae spend the afternoon,” he nodded. “Much more preferable than whit I have tae attend today.”
“The alliance?” she asked.
“Aye,” he sighed. “Yer ma and I are meeting wi’ the McClarens tae sign the agreement.”
“Are the boys attending as well?”
“Ian is,” her da explained. “Patrick and Scot will stay behind tae…guard the castle, tae be honest.”
Florence felt a strange twist in her gut. She knew this alliance with the McClarens was not something her mother was particularly in favor of, and her father appeared hesitant about it but felt they had no other choice. The McClarens were a clan of brutes and bullies who were much more eager to settle matters with their fists and blades than with reason and compromise.
Still, without this alliance, it was likely that the McClarens would eventually turn their sights onto the McIntewar clan, and her people had little chance of beating the strength of the opposing clan.
“Do ye trust the McClarens to uphold the alliance?” Florence asked.
Her da scratched at his chin and replied, “It would be foolish o’ me tae trust them completely. Still, we have little choice. We need tae strengthen ourselves in order tae protect our people and land. This is our best option at present.”
Florence knew he was doing what he thought best for the clan, but it seemed such an impossible choice. That was what it meant to be a Laird, however. She had watched her father make many difficult decisions throughout her life, all for the sake of the clan. This alliance was no different.
Did ma make such decisions when she was a Laird?
The question rose up suddenly and almost slipped past her lips but she managed to hold it in. That was something else her family did not discuss. The fact that her mother had been Laird of the Duncan clan in her own right was no secret, but the details of all that had happened to her during that time were never talked about. Florence knew she was at least part of the reason her mother gave up her position as Laird, but she had always gotten the sense that there was far more to the story than the scandal of a pregnancy out of wedlock.
It was yet one more mystery that haunted her thoughts when she was not vigilant and let them slip to the forefront of her mind. She briefly considered asking her father what he might know about that time in her mother’s life, but she stopped herself. She did not want to risk angering her mother by going behind her back, or upsetting her father by bringing up his wife’s scandalous past.
Instead, she forced a sympathetic smile and said, “I pray all goes well today. I ken it is no’ easy, but I also ken ye and ma are doing whit ye must for the clan.”
His smile was grateful as he reached up and lovingly patted her cheek.
