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"Sorry, I mean sneaky like some women," he muttered.
"Hmmm," she said with displeasure, and then sighed and added, "Ask around and see if you cannot find out where Miriam has got to and if anyone has seen her in the area." She paused briefly and then added unhappily, "Although not seeing her may not mean she is not behind this. After all, 'tis a man doing the attacking. It could be someone she hired. She would not need to be in the area at all if that is the case."
"I heard she went back to her kin," Marach said thoughtfully. "If she did send someone, it's most likely kin. We can ask if anyone has seen members of her family about, or if any of her kin fit the description of the man that chased ye in the clearing," he suggested.
"Aye. Good thinking," Annabel praised, and then stood. "I am going back up to check on my husband."
"But ye've no' broken yer fast," Gilly pointed out with a frown.
Annabel glanced down at the bits of bread littering her spot. She'd torn her bread to shreds but had not eaten a bite. Shrugging, she said, "I am not really hungry anyway."
"I'll ha'e a maid bring ye up some cider and food," Marach said quietly. "Ye must keep yer strength up. Ye may need it in the future."
"Thank you," Annabel murmured and turned for the stairs. But as she walked, it suddenly occurred to her to wonder what he'd meant. Did he mean she needed to keep her strength up in case of another attack, or in case Ross died? Her mind shrank from the second possibility. Annabel simply didn't want to think about that. She liked her husband. Perhaps even was coming to love him. He was caring and concerned in his treatment of her, and he made her blood burn and her body sing. She didn't want to think of never experiencing any of that again.
"LIKE I TOLD the laird, Ainsley, Eoghann and I were drinking the night we decided to put in a claim to the title."
Annabel nodded to encourage the man to continue, and then glanced over her shoulder to be sure Gilly and Marach were each paying attention. A snort from Eoghann brought her gaze back around.
"We weren't just drinking, we were sotted," Ross's uncle put in. "We were supposed to be playing cards, but instead the three of us were yammering on about Derek."
"Aye," Fingal agreed. "We all three were annoyed with the little idiot blathering on about his being four years older, and how it would make him the wiser and better chief than Ross." He scowled. "And some folk were falling for it."
"Can ye imagine?" Eoghann asked with dismay. "After all Ross had done to prove himself, stepping up repeatedly and takin' the reins when his father, God rest his soul, was away or unwell. The lad is a born leader."
"Aye, and what had Derek done?" Fingal asked, and then answered in unison with Eoghann, "Nothing."
They both nodded together, looking like the brothers they were, and then Fingal muttered, "The lad's ridiculous yammering made us fair froth."
"Froth," Eoghann agreed.
"So, we decided if he wanted to play the age card, we could beat him there and we'd all put ourselves forward as runners for the title," Fingal continued. "Give the little bastard a scare."
"Aye," Eoghann agreed, and then added quickly, "But none o' us really wanted it. I'm a farmer at heart. Always ha'e been. Can't be bothered with all that political nonsense. Give me some good, fertile soil and I can feed the village. Give me a sword and I'd most like poke meself by accident," he said with a grimace. "I'd rather slop me pigs than kowtow to the English and our neighbors . . . and our father kenned that. Set me up with a fine bit o' land to till when I was still a boy, and I've made fine work of it. I'm content."
"And I like being blacksmith," Fingal assured her. "Always had a temper, and I can beat that out hammering me metal. I'd forever be at war were I clan chieftain."
"Aye, he would," Eoghann said with a grin.
"And that's no' a good thing," Fingal assured her. "I can hammer a fine sword, the best in the highlands, but wielding it?" He grimaced and shook his head. "I'd get meself stuck through, the first battle."
"Aye," Eoghann agreed. "As would I."
The two men were silent for a moment and then Fingal said, "I ken yer trying to find out who is behind these attacks as Ross was doing ere he was hurt, but if yer looking to us, yer looking in the wrong direction. Ross is a good leader, and bad as I am with a sword, I'd take one up in his defense, but I'd ne'er turn one against him."
Eoghann nodded solemnly and then asked, "How is the lad? Has he stirred at all?"
"Nay," Annabel admitted quietly.
Eoghann sighed, looking suddenly old. He shook his head. "It's no' fair. The lad's had a tough row o' it the last five or six years."
"Aye," Fingal sighed. "And it was just starting to look like he was comin' out o' it. He handled Derek and things were settling here and then he fetched ye back. It seemed things had taken a turn."
Eoghann nodded. "We were expecting the squawl o' bairns soon and a contented laird. A happy laird makes for happy people."
"I am sure he will wake soon," Annabel said soothingly. "He is strong."
"Aye, but head wounds are a tricky business," Eoghann muttered unhappily.
Annabel grimaced at the words. They had been repeated often of late, even by her, and she was sick of them. Tricky or not, Ross had to recover from this head wound.
"Ha'e ye considered Miriam?" Eoghann asked suddenly, and then added, "She did no' take Derek's passing well, and blamed Ross despite her boy starting this whole business."
"Hell, she was probably the one prodding Derek to claim the title," Fingal said with disgust. "That way she would be mother o' the laird and live in the castle."
"That's more than possible," Eoghann decided, and then added with disapproval, "Miriam always aspired to grander things than village life. She wanted to be Lady MacKay as a lass, chased our brother, Ranson, Ross's father, and was furious when the boy's mother won him over instead."
"Really?" Annabel asked with interest.
"Aye. That's a fact," Eoghann assured her. "I wouldn't put it past the woman to try to make trouble for Ross for dashing her last hope o' being the grand lady o' the manor."
"Do you know if she--" Annabel paused and glanced toward the keep doors when they suddenly opened. She recognized the man who entered. He was a MacKay and often guarded the front gate, but she had never been told his name, so she was a little alarmed when he glanced around, spotted her at the trestle tables and headed straight for her.
"Begging yer pardon, me lady," the man murmured with a slight bow as he reached her. "But there's a lady at the gate asking to see ye."
"A lady?" Annabel asked with surprise, searching her mind for what woman in Scotland might want to see her. The only women she knew so far were the servants here and Giorsal, and Giorsal would never be kept waiting at the gate.
"An Englishwoman," the soldier clarified.
Annabel's eyes widened and she stood at once.
"Hold on there," Eoghann said, jumping to his feet and then he eyed the soldier. "Is it Miriam?"
"Miriam?" Annabel asked with surprise. "But she is Scottish . . . isn't she?" she added uncertainly.
Fingal and Eoghann shook their heads as one, but it was Eoghann who said, "Nay. Miriam is English. Our father hired her father on as cook here when she was twelve. Her mother was dead, so he brought her along and they had a little room off the kitchens."
"It's where she got her liking for castle life. Wanted to run the damned place and get out o' the hot kitchens," Fingal added.
"I see," Annabel murmured and then glanced to the soldier. "Is it Miriam?"
"I do no' ken," the man admitted apologetically. "I never met the woman."
"Bearnard is a MacDonald," Marach said quietly behind her. "He married a MacKay lass this past spring and only moved here then."
"Aye." Bearnard nodded. "I ken not what this Miriam looks like. Howbeit, she did no' say she was her."
"Well, I ken what she looks like," Eoghann announced and started around the table, with Fingal on his heels. "We'll accompany ye and be sure if 'tis her, she d
oes ye no harm."
"Oh, that is very kind," Annabel said with surprise. "But I am sure Gilly and Marach will recognize her if 'tis Miriam."
"Gilly and Marach are no' family," Eoghann said grimly as he took her arm, then glanced to the men and added, "No offense, lads. But with Ross down it falls to his family to see his lady's safe. Come on Fingal," he added, and the other man hurried to take her other arm. The two then proceeded to march her toward the keep doors.
Annabel glanced over her shoulder to be sure Gilly and Marach were following and then glanced from Eoghann to Fingal and said, "The two of you seem quite close."
"We're brothers," Eoghann said with a shrug.
"Half brothers," Fingal corrected. "And we were no' always so close. As lads I resented Eoghann, Ainsley and Ranson for having things I did no'. And for being acknowledged as the laird's sons where I was no'."
"What happened to change things?" she asked curiously as Fingal tugged the keep door open and the men ushered her out.
