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Mara looked over her rapt audience and smiled. “Someday, I may be gracious enough to explain that.” She stood, and her wide smile plumped her already full cheeks. “But I wouldn’t count on it.” She shooed at the men. “Now be gone on your business and leave us women to ours.”
Tara laughed along with Mercy as the men stood grumbling.
Reeve whispered to Tara, “Later.”
She smiled up at him and nodded.
As soon as the men had left, Mara turned to Mercy. “Tell me exactly what’s wrong.”
Mara’s direct nature could intimidate, but it was the concern in her voice that let you know how much she cared.
Mercy sighed. “I can’t truly say. I only know I don’t feel quite right. It’s as if something is wrong, but I don’t know what it is.”
Mara continued questioning. “Pains anywhere?”
“No, none at all,” Mercy said with a shrug. “I just don’t feel right. I know it doesn’t make sense, but that is the only way I know of explaining it.”
“Do as Duncan said and rest,” Mara said. “And if anything should bother you, let me know right away.”
Mercy nodded, and Mara hurried off after explaining that she had a lot to see to today.
Mercy laid her hand across her rounded stomach. “Even if there is something wrong, I doubt there is anything Mara can do about it.”
“I don’t know about that,” Tara said. “She’s a formidable woman.”
Mercy smiled. “She is at that, though kind and loving in her own way.”
“Let’s go to the sewing room,” Tara suggested. “You can rest, and we can talk while we stitch.”
Mercy nodded eagerly. “And you can tell me about you and Reeve.” She shook her hand at Tara when she tried to protest. “There’s no point in denying it. Something is going on between you two, and talking with a friend just may help you better understand it.”
A friend.
Tara was so happy that Mercy considered her a friend that she completely ignored the little niggling thought that kept trying to intrude. Could Mercy be ill and her babe at risk because the curse was once again haunting her? She didn’t want to know, didn’t want to think about it, and so she ignored it.
Reeve and his two brothers and father gathered in front of the fireplace, each pulling a chair close to the hearth. While a strong fire blazed, a chill still permeated the solar.
“Something is stirring with King Kenneth,” Reeve said after they were all settled.
“What goes on?” Carmag asked.
Reeve shook his head. “The person who shared the news had no idea. It seems that there is a well-kept, guarded secret surrounding him, few being trusted with the details.”
“Perhaps Neil could find out something,” Duncan suggested.
“His spying days are over,” Bryce reminded them, and smiled. “Besides, Etty would never let him place himself in danger.”
Reeve sat forward. “Etty our cook and Neil our spy together?”
Bryce grinned. “It’s a sight that warms the heart. And you don’t want to take a chance of annoying Etty.” He looked around the room at each of them. “I think we can all agree on that since the result would be mum cooking for us.”
They all cringed.
“I wouldn’t expect Neil to place himself in danger,” Reeve said, “but he may be able to point us in the right direction of who to talk with. It would help having another spy amongst the king’s trusted group.”
“But with the king suspicious of almost everyone, how would we get anyone to betray him?” Duncan asked.
“Coins and lots of them,” Bryce said. “There is always someone who will take a risk for a fat purse.”
