With a dim expression, Mary pointed at her and Rinalda cocked her head to the side. “Me? Me parents died when I was two-and-twenty, but I was sent to the Balloch family at eighteen. I have three sisters, older triplets but they were all married off by the time I was ten. Me parents were getting old and knew they had nay way of providing for me so I had to make a choice, come here and live or stay with them and perish. The Laird, Young Lenichton’s faither, generously gave me parents help until the day they died.”
Her tale was concise but Mary could feel that there were parts in it that Rinalda had left out. Reaching out, Mary laid her hand on Rinalda’s hand and gave her a sympathizing look. Rinalda patted the back of her hand. “I ken, I ken but it was a long time ago. If ye have no family, I’m sure Young Lenichton will find a place for ye here. Dinnea ye worry, yer safe here.”
If this ruse works, I think I will.
* * *
Rarely did Leith use his father’s meeting room as all his life he held it as his father’s hallowed space. The wide room was sparsely furnished with a large wooden table that had serviced many past generations and a bookshelf.
The fireplace was massive and hanging vertically on the wall was a sword. His father’s sword, hanging from hooks under the cross-guard, had a beautiful jeweled hilt and the blade glinted a sharp, smooth sliver. It had not been used in decades but it was regularly sharpened and put back.
His mother sat in a chair and he took the other, while entering behind him was Nicolas Cooper, the right hand of his father, Aaron, for as many years as Aaron had been appointed. Having been at the forefront for so many years, he was Leith’s consultant and friend.
Though the man was nearly three-score and five and had a full head of silver hair anyone would be foolish to discount the man as the stalwart he was. His sharp blue eyes were always watching, seeing, dissecting. He was not one to welcome change until it was absolutely needed. He was a traditionalist at the best and worst.
Nicolas sat near his mother and pinned him with his gaze. Leith had never really found a way to be at ease when the man looked at him that way. “So, what’s this uproar I hear about a lass in the infirmary? Who is she?”
“I cannae tell,” Leith lied, “I found her unconscious on the ledge and over the river and kent she was dead at first. I dinnae want to leave her there even if she was dead, so I went to take her body to the town only to feel that she was alive. I rushed her here because I kent she would recover here faster.”
“And ye have nay ide where she came from?” Nicolas asked with lowered brows.
Shaking his head, he emphasized. “Nay. When she came, Rinalda asked but she shook her head. She had an injury there. Ye’ve been a warrior for years, ye of all persons should ken how head injuries go hand-in-hand with forgetfulness.”
Nicolas’ lips twisted then pressed flat. “There must be some way for us to ken where she came from.”
Making sure to hold Nicolas’ eyes with a calm gaze, Leith nodded, “I agree but if we dinnae find anywhere she can go, she can have a place here.”
“We’ll have to wait until she recovers then,” his mother Sarah said. “From what I saw she is a lassie who is hurting, inside and out. She was terrified of Rinalda, poor, gentle Rinalda. Her dress was ragged and she’s covered from head to toe with dirt. I ken she’s had a hard life.”
“Is that so…” Nicolas drawled, “the men that carried her into the infirmary told me that there is not a speck of calluses on her hands. Her palms are softer than balls of cotton. What lass would have a hard life with no calluses, hm?”
Forcing his eyes to not narrow, Leith leaned back in his seat and casually shrugged, “I cannea tell. Until we ken more about her, how about we give the lass some compassion instead of suspicion? I ken that’s how Faither would have dealt with the situation.”
“It’s May now,” Nicolas said calmly, but a heaviness coated his words. “Did ye forget that it was only four months ago Cromwell’s man died here. He was responsible for the restoration of their bloody King Charles the Second. Ye dinnea ken someone is seeking revenge?”
Now, Leith was getting irritated, “The man’s body swelled from the inside and his guts burst. He was nay assassinated. Naythig enough to worth revenge.”
“Even so, the English will use any means they can to undermine us,” Nicolas said, “Sending a lass as spy isnae beneath them.”
“And why would she end up in the Highlands instead of the capital?” Leith asked logically. His head canted to the side and his left brow ticked up a notch. Nicolas’ argument was weak and they both knew it. The man just had to find something to put his distrust for the English forward. Thank God, he had made Mary go mute. “Isnae that where spies are sent, hm?”
His argument was solid and even the seasoned soldier knew it. Nicolas’ eyes went frosty, but his tone was the same calm one, “It is, but we can never tell. It wouldnae do us well to drop our guard now.” He stood and tugged his jerkin. “If ye would excuse me, I have to go see the barracks. A set of soldiers have just come back from the Tremont’s. I need to get their report.”
“Yer free to go,” Leith said, pretending to tell himself that the man needed his permission.
As he left, Sarah reached
