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“And Máelodor?” Aidan asked, pacing the room in impatient circles.
“We found his abandoned coach on the Kinagh road outside of Ballyneen, but he wasn’t aboard and his coachman had been killed. No sign of the Rywlkoth Tapestry either.”
“But you finally believe me.”
The Amhas-draoi seemed reluctant to admit it, but she nodded. “I do, Lord Kilronan. But there will be many among the brotherhood who remain unconvinced of Douglas’s innocence and Máelodor’s survival. St. John had many years to sow his lies and half-truths. It may take as many years to root out them out.”
“Years we don’t have. Hell, we don’t have bloody months. Not if Máelodor’s obtained the tapestry and the diary. He needs only to discover the Sh’vad Tual to summon Arthur and launch his war.”
Cat’s voice broke into the argument between Aidan and Miss Roseingrave. “Brendan hid it, and Brendan’s not talking. Sabrina told you so.”
“But if Máelodor catches him again . . .” The sentence trailed away as each of them envisioned Brendan’s fate should he find himself once more subject to Máelodor’s mercy. Only Sabrina need not delve into her imagination. She’d lived through it. And still woke sobbing from fear.
“Are you sure Brendan didn’t tell you anything, Sabrina? Where he might go? Where he’d hidden the stone?” Aidan asked.
Unexpectedly the center of attention, she slumped farther into her seat. “No. Nothing.”
“And how did Douglas escape?” Miss Roseingrave prodded. “You say he was ill and wounded. How could a man so gravely injured disappear so completely without assistance of some kind?”
Sabrina lifted her gaze to stare upon the Amhas-draoi’s dangerous beauty. Forced herself from glancing toward Ard-siúr or Sister Brigh, who remained silent as the arguments raged. “I don’t know.”
Miss Roseingrave returned her gaze unflinching. “Though if you did, I wonder if you’d tell us.”
Sabrina’s lips curved in a cool, enigmatic smile.
Dropping the curtain back in place, Miss Roseingrave dismissed her with an annoyed toss of her head. “We’re getting nowhere. I leave for Skye. Scathach and the leadership must be informed of St. John’s treachery and death. We must look to who else among the Amhas-draoi Máelodor may have turned.”
Aidan frowned. “And Máelodor’s Domnuathi?”
“Daigh,” Cat quickly inserted.
Sabrina’s affection for her sister-in-law grew with every new encounter. Cat’s staunch defense of Sabrina had done much to blunt Aidan’s wrath in the days since their harried arrival at Glenlorgan. And her sympathetic presence had been a calm amid the storm of Sabrina’s blighted hopes. Only now and again had she noticed Cat’s eyes upon her, a fleeting glimpse of some deeper emotion upon her face. A worry breaking through her usual tranquil calm. But whatever her thoughts, she said nothing, and Sabrina was left to wonder if Cat suspected.
“Were it not for him, Máelodor would never have gotten his hands on the tapestry at all,” Miss Roseingrave muttered.
Sabrina stiffened, her jaw clenched in a belligerent jut, her body shaking with outrage. “He did it to save me. And he almost died trying to stop Máelodor from escaping with it. Where were you, Miss Roseingrave?”
The charge brought a flush of angry heat creeping up the woman’s throat to stain her cheeks, but she still dismissed Sabrina’s strident defense with an offhand shrug. “The man is no longer a threat. And therefore no longer my concern.”
Ard-siúr spoke up. “Mr. MacLir may stay at here at Glenlorgan until he is fully recovered. He has not been given an easy road, but he has shown he will travel it with much strength and courage.”
“Very well.” Miss Roseingrave’s mind was already moving beyond them to the challenges ahead. She threw a long traveling cloak about her shoulders as she strode for the door. “Lord Kilronan, I’ll send word to Belfoyle once I know more.”
Aidan answered with a sharp nod while Cat gave Sabrina a sidelong glance from beneath downswept lashes.
“We too leave shortly, Ard-siúr,” Aidan said when the Amhas-draoi had departed. “The sooner Sabrina is away from here, the sooner she can put this whole tragedy behind her.”
Ard-siúr’s answering stare had Aidan shifting uncomfortably, his expression losing a shade of its conviction. Sabrina knew that look all too well, and felt a pang of sympathy for her older brother.
Finally, Ard-siúr blinked, her hand reaching to stroke the cat curled dozing upon her papers. “Lord Kilronan, it is for you to steer the proper course, but sometimes it is best if we release our grip upon the rudder and let the currents guide us. We may find they bring us where we were meant to be from the very first.”
The stern bones of his face remained as implacable as marble, but then Cat drew up beside him. Her hand rested lightly upon his arm. Their shared gaze shutting Sabrina out like a slamming door.
He sighed. “Perhaps—”
But Sabrina interrupted, surprising even herself with the words that came. “Thank you for interceding, Ard-siúr, but I want to leave.” Her clenched hands whitened, her stomach rolling up into her throat. “It’s time for me to go home.”
Sabrina hung back after the others had left to see about traveling arrangements. Knocked upon the open door. “Ard-siúr?”
